Darkness had fallen on the barge, stalled out in the water due to engine trouble. The lights in the cabin shone out from the windows and glinted on the water. The rocking that had made Celia so sick had stopped, and the moon was reflecting off the black water of the lake. Lionel sat with his back to the railing, looking out over the water, with Celia leaning on his shoulder. She was asleep.
At least it was his bad arm. He felt ashamed that even the slightest contact with her stirred up uncomfortable feelings. Lilian had gone down to the far end of the barge and hadn't spoken to him since that afternoon. The talk with Amos had been civil enough, though Lilian had made it clear that she wasn't going to be around if his behavior didn't improve. He hoped she wouldn't come and try to accuse him again.
Celia, leaning on his shoulder, put pressure on his healing wound. It was painful, but it kept him solid, feeling the sharp stings when she moved in her sleep. He tensed up and tried not to watch her too often.
Amos and Jesse were playing cards, some game similar to poker. He'd declined the offer to join, since he would have needed two hands to hold the cards without showing. Amos was winning.
"You're sure about this?" Amos asked him again.
Lionel sighed, and it sounded like a pebble in a blender. "Yeah," he said. "I'm sure."
Once Amos had understood that Celia was not in immediate danger from the ghouls, he'd relaxed considerably. Celia herself told him the story about her facial wound, and her panic attack. "It's just―well, you're losing your missus," he said. "I don't see why you'd want to give up... your daughter?" he guessed, awkwardly.
"Friend," Lionel said, rubbing his hand on the deck and scratching loose a piece of skin. "Nothing more."
You liar, he told himself.
"Still, you see my point," Amos concluded.
"I hear you," Lionel said.
"She's gonna freak out," Jesse said.
"How would you know, kid?" he asked him, edgily.
Jesse hiked a thumb over his shoulder. "She told me the only family she had was you and Lilian."
Lionel sighed. "She has a brother, a sister-in-law, and a niece."
"She didn't say anything about 'em."
"She'll make new family." He grunted. "Just like with me and Lilian." He grimaced. "Come move her, my leg is going numb and I can't tell if I've been sitting too long or it's nerve damage."
Jesse grinned, and pried her off Lionel's shoulder. She stirred but didn't wake, and Jesse propped himself under her like Lionel had. He felt a sting, but there was nowhere else for her to sleep but the hard deck. He went for a walk, because his leg was numb.
It was quiet other than the banging of tools in the cabin. He went to the other side of the deck, and stood at the railing. Lilian joined him, after a moment.
"What are you planning?" she asked him.
"Don't know what you mean," he said.
"I know that look. You're up to something." She put her hand on top of his, on the railing.
Lionel stared at her hand, blankly. Like his, she'd lost most of her skin and the muscle underneath was without barrier to the ravage of the wastes. How many times had he imagined that he were no longer a ghoul, when he first changed? Many. How many times had he tried to remember Lilian as she was, not the aberration he saw here? None. He'd learned that lesson. It was pointless anymore, to think he could be or feel normal. Maybe when he was younger, he still felt hope, but never with Lilian. He'd given up on bothering; she stopped whining about it after the first two or three years.
"Whatever," he said, without emotion. "I'm not 'up to' anything."
"I'll forgive you," she said. "But you have to forgive me, and we can move on."
"I don't have to forgive, or forget, or remember, or let go," he told her. "We're not anything, anymore."
She removed her hand from his. "So that's it, then? You're done with me."
Lionel leaned on his hand, on the railing, and sat down. "I'm done," he said, agreeing.
The look on her face, he had to turn away. "Are you not going back?" she asked, angrily. "All the work you put into the shack, your home?"
"Don't know," he shrugged.
"Because of me?" she asked, her voice raising. "Or because of that little girl? She should be back in her Vault, not here in the wasteland."
Lionel sighed. "I'm not fighting about it."
She screwed up her face. "Well," she said, "I am!"
Lilian shoved him, hard. He lifted his hand up off the railing to fend her off, but she'd knocked him off-balance and he'd forgotten that he was on the railing. With another shove, he fell off the barge, sinking into the night-darkened waters.
Celia woke up to a clamor. Everyone was gone, and she'd been laid out on the deck of the barge. A loud splash sounded on the other end of the barge. She rose to her feet, and went to that side, slowly. A group of people were gathered around the railing, chattering. She wondered what had happened.
"What's going on?" she asked the nearest person.
"Someone fell overboard," he said, frowning. "That black-haired kid jumped in after."
She frowned, and looked around. Amos was standing with Lilian, who had a stricken look on her face. "What's―" she started.
Amos tensed up and Lilian cried, "Lionel fell in!"
"What?!" Celia spun and gripped the railing. "What happened?" Her heart hit the bottom of her chest as she stared down at the black water.
Amos pulled her away, holding her arm firmly. "Jesse went in after him," he told her. "Even as dark as that water is, no one is better at swimming than Jesse."
Lilian bit her mouth and said, "Lionel was a sailor. He can swim."
"But―" Celia looked back at the water, her chest heavy. "But he only has one arm―" Because of me, she thought. She swallowed, pushing the sick feeling down.
"Trust me, honey, he'll be sweet as candy," Amos said.
Two whole minutes passed. The barge operators turned the lights on the outside of the barge down toward the water. Celia fought the urge to hyperventilate, breathing carefully. The skin on the back of her head tingled.
Then, with a huge swell, Jesse broke the water and hauled Lionel up onto the barge. Amos and a crewman pulled him over the rails and laid him onto the deck. Her hands clenched. He wasn't moving. She stopped herself from going to him; she'd only be in the way. Amos checked his wrist and neck for a pulse.
Jesse, in a powerful motion, pulled himself out of the water and landed on his feet with a thump. Sopping wet, he moved to her side and took his shirt off, squeezing out the water.
"Heh," he chuckled. "Guess he can't kill me now that I saved his life."
Celia whimpered a little. He still wasn't moving. Lionel, she thought, please be alive.
Jesse laid his shirt on the rail and held out his arms to her. "C'mere," he said, and wrapped his damp arms around her. "He'll be alright," he said, patting her on the back.
The awkward hug distracted her long enough to break her concentration. "What are you doing?" she asked, annoyed.
"Using you as a towel," he grinned.
"Stop," she said, grumpily, and pushed him away. "It's not funny."
"Oh?" The tanned face split even wider, and he put his hands on his hips. "Look over there." She looked, and Lionel was sitting up, barking out coughs. "He totally owed me that one."
Celia darted to Lionel's side, breathing fast. She laid a hand on his arm, but he shook her off, leaning forward.
"What happened?" Amos asked, extending a hand to help him up.
Slowly, Lionel stood, on his own, without help. He looked at the people around him on the barge, gathered to watch the disturbance. Focusing, he strode forward, and grabbed up Lilian by the front of her shirt, and pushed her back to the railing. He pushed her halfway over the edge, holding her over the rail just far enough to cause her to panic.
"I didn't mean it!" she shrieked. "It was an accident! I swear!" She struggled against him, her hands tightening on the rails. "LIONEL! NO!"
Everyone was too shocked to step forward. Celia moved to Lionel's side with a surge of adrenaline and fear, and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Lionel," she said, softly. "Please don't." Her heart broke when he looked at her, his white-starred eyes holding so much pain and anger. "Please," she repeated. "Don't do this." Tears welled up in her eyes.
"Is he going feral?" someone in the crowd whispered.
The spell was broken, then. Lionel backed up and dropped Lilian onto the deck, staring down at her with such a hard expression it would have cracked stone. Celia went to Lilian's side and helped her up, leading her away from the mess.
"It was an accident!" she sobbed, tearlessly.
"It's alright now," Celia soothed, firmly gripping the woman's arm. She pulled out a bit of ripped cloth and offered it to Lilian, who stiffened.
"How can you be so damn―nice! After all that's happened?!" she asked, rudely.
"We're all having a hard time," Celia said. "I don't know what's going on with you and Lionel, but I don't want to lose a friend because of it." She released Lilian on the other end of the barge.
Lilian sputtered. "You're so―infuriating!" She clenched her fists, and shook. "Acting so damn innocent! I didn't mind that when you were family, but he started acting―smitten!"
Celia didn't understand. "Lilian," she said, nervously, "what―"
"No! You listen to me! Lionel was mine!" The ghoul woman shook harder, looking like she was about to seize.
"I really don't understand this!" Celia said, exasperated. "What are you talking about?!"
"I ought to have thrown you off the barge," Lilian said, cruelly.
"What the hell, Lilian!"