Note: I'm pretty sure I'm going to end it here, mostly because I've had some trouble with personal goals related to the story. There may yet be another Emily story, but I'd like to focus on finishing other stories and maybe a few other characters before I put any more ng in angst with Emily. It did end how I anticipated, but with a little difference. (Usually on an even number, but not today.)

minor edit. whoops

Emily lowered her hands to her side and took a deep breath. Simms watched her, arms crossed over his chest, then glanced at Irving.

"Well," he said, with a final tone in his voice. "I'm not entirely sure what happened here, today. Can't say as I liked it, either, but what's done is done."

Irving nodded, and Emily glanced over at him. Why... why he'd done that―to Charon―she'd finally gotten him back, and he was gone just as soon as he came―

Simms turned to Emily. "Jericho's house is empty now," he said. "You could move in, if you'd like."

She turned away, hiding her face. Irving cleared his throat and asked why.

Simms chuckled, dryly. "I've been trying to find a way to get that knuckle-dragger out of town for years," he told the man. "If I knew it was as easy as siccing you on him..." He smiled. "I ain't going to miss the old asshole. The town will miss him, though. Need someone to fill his spot, defending us."

Irving nodded, and Emily breathed out, slowly. "Let Irving do it," she said, her voice dying in her throat.

"You sure about that?" Simms looked her up and down. "You weren't all that hot on staying at my place―"

"I'm not gonna be here," she said, dully. "Irving can help Megaton more than I ever did." She turned to face the sheriff. "Let him have Jericho's house. He's got years of combat experience―and if I'm not around, nothing bad will happen."

Simms stared her down. "You ain't thinking of leaving, now," he started.

"I don't live here anymore," she replied, without emotion. "I have to leave."

He sighed, then nodded. "Can't stop you," he said. Emily nodded. Sheriff Simms was a good guy, but Emily―Emily was just Emily, and she couldn't give him what he wanted, be his deputy and try to help Megaton. She couldn't help anyone. Not now.

Irving was watching her. She ignored him, taking another deep breath. He was being awful to her, calling her names. Just like every other person she'd ever tried to open up to, just like every man she'd ever―ever―wanted to like, or wanted something to do with. Even Jericho, though she hadn't wanted a relationship with him but wanted to get along with him, wanted him to stop being such a bastard toward her. She'd tried to change Charon, she'd tried to change Irving, she'd tried to change Jericho.

It was... it was her.

It was all on her, causing trouble.

She breathed out, shakily, her lungs screaming for air. It was always her, trying to make other people do what she wanted, and never letting them be who they were. Charon tried to make it okay for her―he knew how to be the servant, he'd lived all of his life in that kind of slavery, but she'd made him worse. Broke him free of the contract and made him question who he was, pushed him into staying with her because she couldn't bear to be alone in the wastes. She'd tried to force him to be what she wanted, when he was out of the contract. Tried to...

And Irving―she saw his eyes. He was in pain, because of her. He would always be in pain because of her, and she'd started him on that path―even if he'd been the one to invite her out the ruins and help her out of the hole she'd been in when she thought Charon was dead. He'd only wanted her to be happy, but he'd wanted to settle down and raise a family, her to be his wife. Maybe she might have tried for him, once, but she'd never been able to curb her own stupidity long enough to make any man truly happy. She would have ruined him one way or another.

Shouldn't have been near him, shouldn't have led him on and tempted him with kisses and half-assed teasing. Never could get it right for Irving. Not until she told him off at Rivet City―

And Jericho...

Emily wiped her nose. Before she found Charon, Jericho had been the only person in Megaton who tried to be friends with her. She'd stayed the hell away from Moriarty after finding out where her dad had gone, and whatever niceness she might have had for Gob was lost. Jericho followed her around town, sometimes, egging her into conversation―and she'd known what he wanted, but she was so worried about her dad and what had happened at the Vault, she hadn't bothered with him.

It wasn't until Charon came along that she decided to do anything about Jericho. After her dad died―and she needed the comfort, someone to make the pain go away―

Emily took another deep breath. The pain only got worse, trying to run from it. Jericho got the brunt end of a big stick because she didn't want to order Charon around, make him stop. After the contract was relaxed, it had gotten so much worse. Charon was possessive of her, used her own tactics against her. He was a lot stronger than her and much better at dealing with her stupidity.

But he came back to her because he didn't know how to live without the contract, and she'd selfishly used him for her own devices. He was still a slave, no matter what she did. He would always be a slave, and she couldn't ever make it okay for him.

Jericho... he was a free man, even if he was a bad man, not bound to anyone or anything. Like her, able to do what he wanted. And he'd been the perfect match for her, because he was right about her not playing games and he was right about her stupid slut attitude. She should have listened to him. The lesson he'd taught her about reaping what you'd sown was one she'd needed to learn for a long time.

A lesson she felt she'd learned a little too late for her benefit, and definitely too late for his. She didn't want to feel bad about him dying. But she did.

Her hands shook. She didn't know what to do. There was nothing left, for her. She would always cause trouble, no matter where she went, like Simms said. Trouble for her dad, for Charon, for Irving, for Jericho, for Megaton and Sheriff Simms―

For everyone.

Emily couldn't cry. There were no more tears left. Only pain.

Jenny sat her down at the counter of the Brass Lantern and tried to get her into a conversation while Simms and a settler removed Jericho's body from the town. Emily didn't talk, just stared at the counter top and tried not to think about what had happened.

"Emily," Irving said, sliding into a seat beside her. "Hey." She mumbled something. Didn't look up at him. "I'm sorry I was so rude," he told her, slowly. "I... I couldn't help it. Too much was going on, and I lost my temper."

"It's fine," she said, dismissively. "You don't have to apologize."

"I do," he said, gently. "You're upset, and I feel like shit. I'm sorry I called you names or made you feel bad."

"Whatever," she muttered. "Sorry doesn't make it okay. Won't get it right. I can't say all is well―" She put her chin in her hand and stared at the counter. "Jericho is dead and Charon is gone and you're―" she sighed, closing her eyes. "You're the only one left. Guess you won the game. Survived 'til the end."

Irving snorted. "I told you a long time ago... survival isn't something I worry about. Shit happens in the wastes, but you can't let it get to that point."

"It did, though," she said, painfully. "Shit happened and everyone is worse off, for it."

"I let it happen." Irving moved a hand to her face. "I let these problems of yours get to me because I wanted you... to be you. Thought you were someone else, at first." He pushed her hair over her ear. "Still, every new Emily I saw was more and more what I wanted."

"Not what I want," she said, opening her eyes and staring at him.

"I know." Irving sighed, lowering his hand. "Don't know what to tell you about that. No one knows how to make you happy except for you, Emily."

"I don't know how," she whispered. Tears sprang into her eyes. "I don't know anything about me that's happy―" She wiped her nose.

"I tried, you know," he said. "To make you happy. I just made it worse."

"You helped me," she said, sullenly. "That did... make me happy. But it didn't matter, in the end. I made it bad again."

Irving didn't say anything for a long time. He lifted a hand and dropped it again. "What are you going to do?" he asked, staring at her.

She knew he still―shit, he still loved her. She should have done better for him. Should have listened―to her dad, in the Vault, and stopped playing with the boys like she had. Should have listened to Charon telling her to discourage Jericho. Should have listened to Irving when he told her to let Charon go away on his own―should have stayed in the Citadel with him.

That would never happen, now. There was no happy family in the wasteland. Just bad people and monsters. ...Including her.

"I don't know," she said, sadly. Emily put her hand on the counter. "Don't think there's anything for me to do, except wander off and die."

Irving frowned. "Emily..." he said. He rubbed her shoulder through the thin fabric. "I know you. I know you're a good person, Emily." He tried to get her to look him in the eyes, but she kept her gaze lowered. "But you make other people go crazy, for some reason. Maybe... it'd be better to make the right people go crazy."

"What?" She looked up at him and frowned. "The hell are you talking about."

"Maybe it would be better to make the bad sorts out there, suffer." Irving put both hands on her shoulders and looked at her. "The slavers you hate so much."

"There aren't any more in the Capital," she said, shaking her head and rubbing her eye. "I can't kill them if they don't exist."

He smiled. "I know where a big problem is," he said, slowly. "A stronghold up in the northwest, far from here. Had dealings with Annapolis. I didn't want to tell you before... you would have jumped up and run off, and I would've never seen you again―"

"Probably," she muttered. "Almost didn't make it out of Annapolis."

"When you had your ghoul with you, I thought you were okay. Didn't want you to go into Annapolis, but... things changed. Now―it's all changed again." He squeezed her shoulders gently. "If you want to go, I'll take you. But you have to stay with me, and listen."

"We can't―" she stopped herself. "I can't be with you, Irving," she said, closing her eyes. "I'd just hurt you like I hurt everyone else―"

"Then don't be with me. You never wanted to, anyway." His voice grew more serious. "Come with me as a friend, Emily. Help me take down a slaver stronghold and maybe redeem myself in the eyes of the Brotherhood―and when you come back, you can stay here in Megaton, like you obviously want to. All these people―they want you here, even if you think you're going to make trouble."

"I keep telling her that," Jenny put in. "She doesn't like to listen."

Emily shot an aggravated look at Jenny, and turned back to Irving. "Probably better than sticking around here, for now," she conceded.

"Will you come with me, then?" he asked, staring at her intensely.

"I guess," she said. "Where is this stronghold, anyway?"

Irving dropped his hands and crossed them over his chest, smiling with one half of his mouth. "They call it the Pitt," he said.

It had to be better than staying in Megaton. She... she could cause trouble for slavers and not for innocent people, and Irving was immune from her attentions―not someone she would use for sex, and he wasn't having any of her silly attempts to manipulate him if he was willing to be so rude to her. He'd had just enough of her shit to know better. That was good, she thought.

"O-kay," she said, softly. "Let's go to The Pitt, Irving."