It was a rat dropped into a tank full of snakes, except this rat had sharp teeth, scars of experience, and watchful eyes. Charon strode past the helmet-clad soldiers, heard their muttered insults wafted under their breath. No one said anything outright concerning his presence, however. The brawl with the behemoth saw to that.
Everything was a mess. The stretchers were rushed by, those unlucky enough to survive writhing on their cots until a round of Med-X was slapped on like a band-aid, the medics talking over one another as the medbay quickly became overrun. He grabbed his employer by the arm as she had stood in the corner and began to watch a man's leg being amputated, the anesthesia administered but not yet quite set in; there wasn't much else that needed to be seen. He tightened his grip around her, and she finally looked up at him.
"My Dad isn't here," she said dully. He wasn't sure how she deduced that upon just entering, but he wasn't going to question it.
"Hey, outsider," a voice called to her, turning both of their attention to a soldier stripped down to his base orange uniform. He gave her an easy smile (and him a not-so-subtle nervous glance). It was obvious he was mildly afraid of him.
Good.
The soldier approached anyway, awkwardly rubbing a hand through his dark hair. "So. You made it." He wasn't even acknowledging Charon's presence anymore- it was as though she was the only thing in the room.
His employer gave him a strange look. "Um. I'm sorry, do I-?"
"Oh, right- I was in power armor at the time. Back at the Mall, you had asked about GNR…Underworld?"
Her face lit up. "You were the one who saved me from those dogs."
Charon's eyes drew down to slits as he made a threat assessment of this man…he didn't look like much. The ghoul settled for folding his arms and leaned against the wall.
"Glad to see you didn't forget, and that you're still in one piece." A hand was held out. "Earl, Senior Knight of the Brotherhood. I know you had told me your name, but I'm only good with faces…"
She gave hers in return, her mood considerably lighter. Charon's eyes zeroed in on the contact as they shook.
"Evelyn." She smiled.
(Earl might be a problem)
"Are you hungry at all? Injured? I heard you were out on the front." Earl warily looked over (Charon's mouth curled in a silent snarl), continuing with, "It was one hell of a show."
His employer turned around just as he regained a neutral expression. "…how about you?" She pointed to the burn on his arm. "Will you please get that looked at?"
Charon nodded, stiffly. It seemed to appease her enough…and yet she walked at this soldier's side through the organized pandemonium.
(He might have to kill him)
"Head's down that way, chowhall is just right here-" Earl slapped the side of the door he had escorted them to. "-I have to run a few reports, let me know if you need anything."
"Actually." She dropped her voice. "I'm looking for-" Her stomach growled, and she blushed a violent red.
Earl chuckled. "I'll come back in an hour, how's that sound?"
She sent him off with a shy little wave before (finally) addressing Charon's looming presence again. "See? Impartial."
He rolled his eyes, muttering to himself with disdain as he began to ransack everything from one of the few fridges, the wire shelving rattling and becoming displaced by his brute tendencies. He dumped the entire armful on the small table she had chosen to take a seat at.
She caught a rolling can before it could take a nosedive off the side. "Maybe we should just get you a whole brahmin when we get home."
He ignored the tease and began to strip his weaponry, piece by piece, alongside their dinner. She watched the piling with a blank face, blinking as it easily outgrew the portion of food. Charon sat down, the chair groaning under his bulk, and grabbed the first item closest to him. The box of BlamCo Mac & Cheese was ravenously emptied, a puff of stale cheese powder blowing around his face after he ripped it open with his teeth. He set it to the side, loudly belched into his shoulder, then dug into another. Evelyn only sat in her seat with her hands underneath her thighs, her expression disgusted by his tableside manners. With an index finger, he scooted a can of Cram to her.
"You are hungry," he rasped matter-of-factly.
Her eyes flit over, but she shrugged and wiped at her nose. "I guess."
"You should eat." He tossed the second empty box over his shoulder.
"You can have it."
He tapped on the lid. "Eat."
"Oh, now you're fine with sharing?"
His combat knife was unsheathed, slammed down to the hilt through the top, and a perfect cutout of a circle was made. He frisbeed the metal disc across the room.
"Eat," he repeated.
She sniffed and searched for a utensil with her eyes. "Unlike yourself, I prefer not to-"
Charon half-turned, reaching over to the countertop, and looted a dented spoon to shove it into the slimy surprise. It made an unappetizing squelch as it sunk down. She gave him a look but relented, only eating half until she eventually passed out with her head in her arms on the table. He finished it (along with the other items) before the soldier returned for them.
The smoothskin couldn't meet his eyes as he spoke to him. "There's a few extra cots in the lower barracks…does she need assistance or-?"
The ghoul leveled a flat look with him before reaching over and placing a hand on her shoulder, shaking her none-too-gently. "Wake up."
Her teeth chattered in her skull as she was jostled, her eyelids fluttering as the whites of her eyes showed. She batted him away before wiping the stringy glob of drool from the corner of her lips. She slurred, "Okay-okay!"
The compound was much calmer than before, those fit enough to resume their duties going about the building like a collected hivemind. Everyone turned their head to stare as they passed. A freshly-shaven crewcut baited Charon with, "We missed one."
His employer pivoted on her heel a lot faster than he would have anticipated. Charon grabbed her by the shoulder to keep her forward, but she shrugged him off.
"Apologize," she spat sharply off her tongue.
Charon reattempted to peel her away. He found the insult harmless, but the situation, not so much. "Let us go," he rasped lowly for her to only hear.
"I want him to apologize, first," she scathed, and his fingers loosened their hold a little. He blinked. She was suddenly so angry over something that he was more than accustomed to. She shoved the soldier in the chest, surprisingly making him back up a step. "Did that make you feel big, little man? Too much of a coward to say it to his face but not behind his back?"
The man went to retaliate with a nasty sneer, but Earl intervened before Charon could.
"You heard her, Initiate Lowes. You owe him an apology, and frankly, you owe your brothers and sisters here one, too, for dishonoring their names with such gross misconduct. He saved their lives, and now you owe him yours." He looked around at the quiet crowd that had gathered at the end of the halls. "You all do."
"With respect, Sir," the initiate said through clenched teeth, "I don't recognize zombies as people any more than I do with muties." He met Charon's toasty glare. "Just food for the worms."
A fist nailed him in the teeth, earning a choke from his throat before another was thrown at his lower gut. Evelyn jumped him as he tilted over for a split-second, tackling him to the ground with a raining Hail Mary of lead-filled punches. Charon's face contorted into alarm as he nabbed at the hissing, spitting, yowling cat of an employer. She somehow managed to keep Lowes' arms pinned with her legs, leaving her sense of wasteland justice free to conduct its sentence. Charon was surprised and completely caught off guard- she was much stronger than he would have thought- and he was forced to wrap an arm around her waist to hoist her up.
Earl lassoed the insubordinate just as Charon reined her behind him.
"Stop it!" Charon growled at her, holding her face with one hand to force her eyes away from her target. "Don't."
Earl barked, "Back up, Lowes!"
"What the hell is going on here?" A voice cut through the commotion and the soldiers snapped to attention. A Brotherhood member still dressed to the nines in power armor strode down the hall, his hands laced behind his back as he slowly sauntered over. "Initiate Lowes, are you inciting a misdemeanor while your brothers and sisters are laying out as food for the worms just outside these walls?"
The initiate shook his head, not breaking his thousand-yard stare from the wall. "No, no Sir!"
"Well, now you're lying to me." He turned to stare at the two sore thumbs standing off to the side, his brow quirked at Evelyn's darkened scowl. "Senior Knight Earl will see to it a counseling report is written up regarding your behavior and punishment, Initiate Lowes. I hereby authorize the recommendation, Senior, so there will be no need to route it." He turned back to the others. "If there are any more incidents regarding our guests, you will be expected to take a walk straight to Paladin Gunny and have someone worth wearing the armor come take your place. Everyone is dismissed."
Evelyn glowered at the initiate as he stalked on past, his hands wiping at his bloodied nose to smear it along the bruising on his face. A few of the others crowded around him, speaking in hushed tones before disappearing.
The soldier in power armor turned back around. "Knight Sargeant Wilks. I'm in charge of this outpost. I apologize for the actions of my subordinate." He glanced over to Charon. "With that said, I don't take too kindly to those who have overstayed their welcome. Sentinel Lyons has granted special permission for you two after your help with the behemoth, but I'm the overall figure of authority around here...so you best keep that in mind, ghoul."
Charon replied with a, "very well," before his still-bristling employer could speak her mind plainly. When they were motioned to follow the Senior Knight once more, he leaned down to her level to mutter, "Do not hesitate once you throw. It is not as effective."
She turned her head to stare at him, and then all at once grew shy under his eyes. "...I won't."
They continued on in silence to their quarters for the evening- a small, backdoor room that was nothing more than a glorified broom closet, spartanly equipped with a bunk bed and an empty footlocker.
"Sorry about the cramped spacing, but I figured you wouldn't want to be bothered after all of that," Earl explained.
"It's perfect, thank you." She smiled. For him. (Again)
Charon's brow twitched.
Earl dumbly nodded, seemingly stalling to leave. "Oh, yeah, you said you were looking for-?"
"My father," she finished, subconsciously inching ever so closely to the smoothskin. "James? I was told he came through here...it would have been at least a month ago."
The Senior Knight briefly looked over her head to Charon smoldering down at him. "I was just recently transferred here, so I'm afraid I don't know, but if you go around back through the lobby to the recording studio, I'm sure you can ask Three Dog. He tends to hear a lot about what goes on in the wasteland-" His eyes suddenly snapped down to her Pip-Boy. "Wait, hold on- are you, 'The Lone Wanderer', he's always broadcasting about?"
"The Lone Wanderer?" she repeated.
"Well, there's this kid that came out of a vault- Vault 101- that he talks of. She's done some crazy stunts. Disarmed a nuke, saved an entire town-"
Evelyn blew out a sigh. "...that's me. It's not as cool as it sounds."
Earl chuckled and raised a hand to pat her on the shoulder, but the head-tilting sleep-paralysis demon at her back made him awkwardly lower it instead. "Don't downplay yourself. That's impressive enough for just one person. I can't imagine coming out of a completely sheltered life to facing the entire wasteland alone." He jutted his chin at her companion. "But I guess you're not really alone, huh?"
She turned, and Charon's dark scowl immediately lightened to his disinterested facade. "I wouldn't have made it here without him," she stated.
Charon gave a succinct nod and crossed his arms. When she gave an involuntary yawn, Earl stepped out the door.
"It's nice to meet you again, Evelyn." His eyes roved to Charon, finding himself caught under another nasty glare that sent shivers down his spine. Earl coughed, "May steel be with you."
The door closed, leaving them alone with only a battery-powered lantern to keep the dark at bay. She plopped on the bottom bunk; the frame creaked. Charon took a seat on the opposite side of the room on the floor, making her frown.
"Do you want the other mattress to sit on?" she asked.
"No," was all he replied with, and then he began to unpack his things and undo his straps and satchels for routine maintenance. He quietly assessed the laser burn from earlier, pressing a few fingers to the blackened, crisped edges of his flesh.
"I have stims."
"No," he repeated. It seemed to be more superficial in nature, for he left it alone and continued with his weaponry instead.
Her fingers fiddled with her boots. "Did...did you know, about me?" she shyly inquired, not meeting his stare after he raised it. "On the radio?"
He looked back down at his work, popping a tin can of grease open to smear a finger inside. "Yes."
"Why didn't you say anything?"
The shotgun made a loud snap after he removed the drum magazine. "It was not necessary."
She thought back to the men in the courtyard and leaned forward on her knees. "Did you know people are after me?"
"I do." He gave her a cool stare. "You should have taken that bounty more seriously."
"Bounty-?" The puzzle piece made a final fit in her smooth brain. "That's from them?!"
"It is."
"And you knew this?!"
"I do."
"You didn't think to casually mention, oh, I don't know, that-"
He bluntly interrupted with, "I will keep you safe. It is of no concern."
The bluster she had worked up slowly fizzled itself out as she watched him empty the chamber of his sidearm. "...you shouldn't have to."
"It is my duty," he said stonily.
She softly replied, "I wish it wasn't."
His fingers paused for just a split-second, his eyes looking into empty space, and then he resumed with his nightly tasking. "I advise you to get some sleep."
Don't call her that.
Call her what, nosebleed? I'm just saying it how it really is. He laughs. They all do. They crowd at his back, many at the hands of one.
Amata cries.
She sees red. It takes two to pull her away. One being her dad. A true father-daughter moment. They'll snap a picture, put it in a frame, he'll wrap an arm around her shoulders and say see? Look at you! Only eight years old and already putting the others in their place. Daddy's so proud!
She's never seen him so disappointed.
Charon wasn't in the room when she woke up. It was two am.
She rolled out from the bottom bunk, tore the scratchy blanket down to her feet, reached for her boots that were snugged beside her bag, laced them tight. A wander down the halls- the soldier on watch pointed to a door that led outside. Charon was leaning against the railing, drifting on the smoke of a cigarette. The moon was high in the sky, a bowl full of milk, the stars speckled drops from a cat who had lapped at it.
He turned his head, just enough to catch her in view, his eyes glowing strangely under that pale-white light. His voice was flat, uninterested. "Is there something wrong?"
She hugged herself from the chill in the air, wishing she had her leather jacket in company. It wouldn't be left behind again, no matter how sweltering the heat was during the day. She stepped up to stand beside him.
"No. Thought you said you didn't smoke." She studied the outline of the colossal, the still-glowing embers deep within its burning flesh trailing lines of bright red. "…so, you did that?"
He blew a smoke-filled haze from his nostrils. "Yes."
"Wow." Her palms came to rest on the cold metal railing, her fingers drumming along the edges. "Were you…scared?"
He stubbed out the butt end of his dying cigarette on the bar. Shook his head.
"How do you not get scared?" she whispered.
His eyes landed on her face, her lips, before glancing over at the giant mutant as he reached for another habit to burn down.
"I do not know," he answered stoically. "I do not…remember." He tensed, clearly uncomfortable. Those eternal blue flames once again singed her mouth; she could almost taste him on the tip of her tongue, a drink of dark wine and a lick of salted meat. He suddenly scowled, leaning away from her after he had unintentionally gravitated forward. "Not here."
The bulge in his leather pants said otherwise. It was by some small miracle it didn't rip straight through; he perhaps wore the hardest-working zipper in the entire wasteland.
"There's a lock on the door," she said quietly.
"No," he growled, "it is not safe."
"We can go back inside-"
He glowered down at her. "You know what it is that I imply." He turned, somewhat sullen. "You are much too loud."
Without skipping a beat, she said bashfully, "It's hard to be loud with your mouth full."
His eyes raised up from tapping the cigarette carton in his palm.
She leaned over the railing to squint through the moonlight for any hidden figures. "Is there-?"
"They patrol every thirty minutes," he rasped, the statement said so factually that she almost rolled her eyes at his ingrained paranoid behavior. His fingers came down to unleash his already drooling cock. "There is time."
She got down to her knees, the cold concrete uncomfortable through the skin of her suit. He bent slightly as she tilted her head forward, her lips miles apart as he eagerly helped himself inside. The slick dew coated her tongue and the roof of her mouth, and she gagged at the horrible, briny taste. He thrust forward, running a race she hadn't even shot off to start.
"Hold on!" she hissed after pulling away, a trail of spit spiderwebbing from her lips to his tip. She wiped it off with the back of her hand. "You'll choke me. Let me do it."
There was an irritated exhale high above, but he relented with a nod and instead worked for a cigarette again. She flipped her hair over her shoulder, experimentally darting her tongue out to lap at the underside of his shaft, feeling the grooves of veins and thick muscle on her ride to the top. She sucked on the tip just as he had sparked a flame, and she looked up while he puffed the end of his cigarette to life, the lighter making a sharp snap after he closed it to pocket it away inside his jacket.
One of his hands came down to tip his dick in a perfect lineup for the back of her throat as she began to swallow him, but the back of her tongue raised up to stop it. He didn't even fit halfway. She slurped the head, sucking on it with a little hum in her throat after he reached down to grope her chest. She obliged him with a nice view after she unzipped her suit to her navel, his fingers fishing her tits out to cup them in his palms. Charon lipped his smoke to the corner of his mouth, tilted his head back, and blew a tobacco-filled cloud to the sky. His hands came to the sides of her head; she occasionally felt a twitch of his fingers, a faint tightening of his palms around her skull.
Globs of saliva dangled from her chin as she swayed back and forth, back and forth. She had no idea what she was doing…but he appeared to enjoy it, even if he didn't make a single sound besides his terse breathing. She licked, swallowed, gagged, and brought a hand up to awkwardly jerk (what couldn't fit) off. The rhythm was stilted, but he didn't seem to mind. A sudden tensing of his cock was followed by a twitch and a blast of- yuck!
She slurped off, coughing up the thick, hot, chalky cum as it continued to lace her neck and chest. It was flung from her fingertips with an ew!
Charon closed up shop downstairs after flicking his cigarette away. "What is wrong?"
She blinked her pretty eyes up at him, slightly annoyed. "What?"
He gave a jut of his chin downward.
"I don't understand," she said dumbly.
He only grunted.
"…did you not like it?" she finally asked, and the insecurity in her voice was so undeniable that it made him, for the first time, in a long time, panic.
His words came out as an absolute, for he had to make sure it would clear out any doubt in her mind. "I like it."
"Oh," she replied simply, and then she chewed her bottom lip. It bobbed his knob. "I-I'm not really experienced with this, um-"
"Why did you not take it?" he asked with all the finesse of a blunt hammer.
Her jaw dropped for an entirely different reason. "Like, the whole thing?" He nodded, and she said flippantly, "One: do you see how big this thing is?!"
He tilted his head for a moment, studying the range and depth of her mouth with a critical eye (like a fucking landscape surveyor), and then nonchalantly shrugged. "I do not see the issue."
"Two: it's gross! You try it!"
The door opened. An unwanted guest strode out in an orange uniform with their own cigarette perched at their lips. He froze in the doorway upon the sight before him; the smoke fell to his feet, his expression unchanging.
Charon lunged, wrapping an arm around the soldier's neck in a chokehold faster than she could stuff her sticky boobs back in her suit.
"Charon!" she gasped.
The soldier went limp.
"Oh my God-!" she began to panic.
"He is not dead." Charon carefully laid him out flat. "I advise we leave."
"Now?!"
He curtly jutted his chin at her to move along, closing the door on the unconscious smoothskin outside before propping a garbage can under the handle.
"We're leaving him out there?!" she hissed.
He nudged her all the way to the empty barracks where their gear had been stowed, wasting no time in equipping himself.
"Wait, I have to meet this Three Dog," she begged after he scooped her bag up by the strap. "My Dad-"
"You have said he is not here," Charon replied evenly, spinning her back around for the door.
"I mean, I don't think he is." She tilted her head back to look up at him. "But I wanted to ask around." When his grimaced deepened, she implored, "Please."
He gave another I'm losing more hair than I actually have sigh and disapprovingly eyed the mess he had left behind. "It would be wise to tend to that, first."
He stood guard outside the bathroom door, making certain no one would walk by to sneak a peek through the busted frosted window at his employer undressing as she washed in the sink. He turned his head- just a quick glance, ensuring she was moving with a purpose. He observed as she scrubbed her suit in the frigid spray, catching her mumbled snippets of never doing this again. Her hands cupped her breasts, her nipples perky and tight from the cold, water dripping from her bare skin to the floor as she ran a wet hand up her neck-
The door flung open; the shitty latch had busted from his added weight after he had leaned into the frame. She squeaked at the intrusion and attempted some modesty as he stumbled a few steps before catching himself. He snapped to attention, pivoted on his heel, and walked straight back out. The door was slammed shut...and slowly swung back in.
Charon grumbled to himself, harshly rubbing at his eyes as he kept his back to the open frame and listened to the sounds of the taps being spun closed.