"I will come back in the morning. If there is word of any trouble, I will return, and I will not be happy." Thomas took one last look at his past lover, but she refused to meet it. He growled inwardly to himself and strode away on his heel with Penny at his side. The rosy ghoul kept her eyes down.

"Well, this is one day for the books," Campbell laughed awkwardly, shaking his head at the tense atmosphere and retiring to his room.

Lydia gave a frightened glance to the sentry standing at the end of the hallway.

"It is fine," Charon rasped. "Do not leave your room for any reason, unless it is one of us. Understand?" The ferryman crossed his arms down at her, and she simply nodded, disappearing behind her door.

Evelyn had turned and was inside their room, leaving the doorway wide open as she began to strip. Charon closed them off from the world, observing her disappear into the bathroom. The shower turned on, and steam began to curl out.

"I have noticed the water in this city is irradiated," he called out to her. "Try to limit your time in there."

He anxiously paced around, muttering nonsense and eventually taking post against the closed doorframe, tapping his bicep with his index finger until she finally exited. There was a creak as she lay in bed on one side, her back to him as she stared at the wall.

"Did I make the right choice?" she whispered, and her voice floated to his ears with such sadness he instinctively came to her side. Tears were running down her face. "I don't know what to do anymore, big guy."

He took a knee before her to fold her into his chest, and he wanted nothing more than to take her back to that day when they had shared a bed, and he had been deep inside her. "If you wish to leave, we shall leave."

"But-"

"Quiet," he growled. "There is nothing here worth your life."

Her head tilted forward slightly, the wet hair hanging like ropes. "She lied to me."

"Evelyn." He brought his hands up to her face and pressed his forehead flush against hers. "I will always keep you safe."

"Is that what you told Adam?" she said softly.

With a choke, he quickly turned away from her as he felt his chest grow tight. Damn him, if this was going to happen a second time in his life- his soul couldn't handle it. He sat on the edge of the bed, his back to her with his hands in his lap. He quietly confessed, "...it was."

The mattress rustled as she crawled over to him, embracing him from behind; her breasts fell firm through her damp shirt against his back. "I'm sorry."

The weight of her chin anchored on his shoulder, and he turned his head to look at her. "Evelyn, what did you come here for?"

She slowly rolled away from him, but he nabbed at her hand.

"Don't," he growled. "I deserve the reason."

She gave a false laugh; he did not like the sound. "Oh no, Charon's angry- he's using contractions."

He let her go as she yanked herself away from him, going to stand just as she did. He badgered, "Why are we here?"

"Charon, I-" She cracked her hands into fists, and then her voice became quiet. Her eyes dropped to the floor. "...I don't know."

"You don't know?" the ghoul asked with a sardonic edge. There was a shake of his head. "That is not good enough. Tell me."

"I didn't ask you to fucking come with me!" she suddenly snapped, storming right underneath his glower. "I didn't ask you to leave Lake Capers!"

The ferryman gave a very loud, annoyed sigh as he rummaged around his gear. With a crinkle, the letter she had imparted to him in Lake Capers was thrust at her. "Yes, you did."

The fires of her wrath were then blown away by the cold winds of a winter's gale, and she burst into tears and wildly ran her hands through her hair. "She fucking lied to me, okay?! I- I didn't know! I just had to be sure-!"

Charon took her wrists, as gentle as his nature allowed him to be, and he held her close as he breathed over her, "Evelyn, tell me."

"My-my brother-" she sobbed.

"Brother?" The ghoul blinked, rasping, "You have a sibling?"

"I don't know," she continued to weep, "My mother wrote that I had someone waiting for me, here, in Braxton. She had said if I found Cross that he would bring me here, but-"

He patiently waited for her to calm down before he tucked her closer to him, his thumbs stroking her skin. "…he is not here."

"Thomas told me 'it's unlikely he even exists'."

"Why would she lie?"

"I don't know!" she said. "None of this makes any sense! Darcy died here, in Braxton, but I found her journal back in Lewis, in our old house! She wanted me to find and have Cross bring me here, but for what?!"

Charon lowly asked, "What did Cross tell you?"

"He…" Her eyes sank into the very depths, smoothed into glass. "He wouldn't tell me anything."

"You love him, do you not?"

"…yes."

"Then shall we return to him tomorrow?"

A fresh downpour of tears, her nose snotty and face ruddy as her voice cracked. "He doesn't feel the same."

Charon snorted, "That is not true."

"He told me he doesn't…and, that singer, back at the bar…"

The ferryman grabbed the underside of her chin and tilted her head back so she would be forced to look at him. Those milky blue eyes glowed down at her. "He will come for you."

She stared at him, and he leaned down and firmly kissed her as his fingers unbuckled his gear. They intertwined for a second time, his pace just as quick and his climax just as rough, and she had laid there with her head on his chest while he had stroked his fingers down her spine.

She looked up at him, and he blinked at her in return.

"Do you love me, Charon?"

The steady wave of her breathing gently tickled the exposed veins of his neck. The tips of his fingers traced a physical map of her face; there was a winding road down the arch of her nose. He curved her lower lip, and his thumb paused in its mindless journey as their eyes met.

"…I do."

The air between them was finally clear. Charon was sure he would feel some sort of relief at his confession, but he just felt...scared.

Charon, does anything ever scare you? Of course not, what am I thinking?! You're a dang superghoul!

A turn of his patchy head. The Lone Wanderer was sitting cross-legged at the foot of the bed with a wide, cheer-cracking smile on his lips. The blue and yellow faded outline of his vault suit was just barely visible with his adjusted vision in the dark; he had not seen that outfit in a very long time. A blink, and the hallucination was gone.

He turned his glowing eyes back down to Evelyn's. There was no way on earth he could lose her, too- it would kill him. One ghost was bothersome enough...but two? His left hand was traveling across the skin of her waist and down across her thighs, and she shivered, momentarily fixated on the stern line of his mouth.

He had only just climbed over her with his stiff cock in the palm of his hand and her legs parted wide when there was a knock on the door. Charon gave a low growl, but the intruder didn't stop. There was a muffled murmur of discontent that escaped her lips as he left the side of their bed, rubbing at his eyes and muttering to himself as he began to shrug into his pants.

Clink. Their door opened without his invitation. The ghoul who had just taken shift at the end of the hall was crumpled on the floor, and Charon's eyes narrowed as a large, shadowed figure filled their doorway. The ferryman's vision was excellent in the dark…he had not seen that face since-

Charon automatically reached for his shotgun, but Evelyn held a hand up to him- a nonverbal order to wait.

"If you wish to see your brother, you will come with me," the ghoul rasped at her. A pair of glowing orbs disappeared for a moment as he blinked at his contracted counterpart. "Alone."

Charon growled warningly in his throat, indicating his thoughts on the offer.

Evelyn bit her lower lip, and then fumbled for her clothes. "Wait for me outside…I'll come."

The door closed, and she glanced at Charon with despondent eyes; he did not like the look.

"I'll be back," she whispered as she shrugged into her shirt, and he grabbed at her forearm.

"You are not leaving," he snarled, not bothering to mince his words. "There's no fucking way."

She held his hand, bringing his knuckles up to her lips and kissing them gently. "My ferryman waits for me upon the shore."

His eyes widened.

"I call to him, 'A coin, I have', and nothing more." She rubbed his palm against her cheek. "His eyes glow like coals as he takes my hand." He bent himself down to her as she lifted herself forward on the tips of her toes, and she kissed him softly. "He says, 'Come with me, to this strange new land'."

"Evelyn..."

Another kiss, and it was desperate. He dropped his shotgun and cupped the side of her face, carefully handling her as though she were made of glass. His other wrapped around the base of her lower back, and he pulled her close to himself as they exchanged unspoken words with the love on their lips.

"Please, Charon. Let me go," she murmured softly, her fingers traveling down along the road of his arms.

Charon, it's okay...you can let me go.

His breathing grew heavy. There was a shake of his head- he would follow her to the ends of the earth before he let her go.

"Evelyn-" His fingers tightened; he was afraid she would simply vanish if he did not physically make sure she was tangible.

Maybe- if he just-

"Kiss me," he rasped deeply.

There was a final exchange of their lips, but it was not with the same urgency. It was smooth, and with all the comfort he had ever wanted in this life. He was fucked- he had lost the war. He was now going to follow her till the end of time, no matter the choices she made or the obstacles she faced. Charon would be at the oar of their boat down the river she paid the toll to travel along; love amongst the swells of death whose claws harried at the hull.

They parted, but their faces were close enough together that his lips brushed against hers as he spoke. "Do you love me?" he huskily asked.

There was a pause as her blue eyes, wide in the dark, looked for something in his own. "I've always loved you...thank you for coming with me, to the end."

This looks like the end of the road, huh? I...thank you for traveling with me, Charon. I love you, man. I know you'll be okay...

The Lone Wanderer was standing behind her, his arms limp at his sides and his expression...sad.

Charon's eyes went wide, and he shook slightly, licking his lips as he stood a little upright. "This is not the end...Evelyn-" His fingers were exploring the skin of her lower back as one hand gripped the outside of her thigh. "-let me come with you, do not leave me alone."

The Lone Wanderer was so clear; Charon could make out the freckles splashed across his face.

"Please come back to me," his voice prayed to her, soft and raspy. His eyes closed for a moment as he turned his head to kiss the inside of her wrist.

"Charon." With a shuddering breath, he opened his eyes. "I order you to wait until morning...if I have not returned by then-" Her voice hitched in her throat. "-I want you to tell, um-" A small exhale as she forced herself to remain steadfast. "-tell Cross that...I'm sorry." She kissed his cheek. "Goodbye, my Ferryman."

She finished getting dressed, and Adam walked her to the door, turning back around and giving a small wave. Charon was no longer in their room; he was no longer in Braxton.

The door to the purifier closed.

Goodbye, my friend.

One Year Ago

2277

"Oh, that's just mean ol' Charon." Moira Brown gave a bizarrely cheerful wave of her hand to the sulking ghoul in the corner. "He doesn't talk much...actually-" A fingertip was placed on her chin, and a light tap was given. "I don't know if I've ever heard him talk at all. Charon!" The ghoul's head immediately snapped upright. "Can you speak?" Her words were spoken loudly, and deliberately slow. "Are-You-Capable-Of-Speech?"

Charon gave his employer a rather murderous glare before shifting his weight to the other foot and grumbling incoherent nonsense.

A chuckle was her only response, and she leaned her elbow on the counter and gave a shrug to the other woman. "I guess I just found myself a new experiment to tinker on!"

Evelyn exchanged a glance with the ghoul, and they simply held each other's gaze for a few moments before she snorted, redirecting her attention back to the woman behind Craterside Supply's counter.

"Is he a mercenary, or something? I haven't seen many ghouls in this town...besides the one in the bar." Evelyn picked up a piece of electrical equipment on the edge of the table, and she felt the ghoul's eyes stalking her every move.

Moira dusted her hands together, smudging the previous grime only further. "Nah- Charon...uh-" She gave a pause, and then leaned over the counter, cupping one hand around her mouth and whispering ironically loudly, "-he used to be in service to Adam...you know, the Lone Wanderer? Hero of the Wastes? Our dang Messiah?!"

Evelyn just shook her head dumbly, being quite new to the Capital Wasteland.

"Oh, well- Adam's...gone, like, gone gone...and he kind of ended up here. Adam had a house here, which, if you're actually looking for some property at the moment-"

"Can I hire Charon?" Evelyn said rather loudly, flitting her eyes to the ghoul in his corner. His expression was stoic, but nonetheless, his gaze looked to that of his employer's.

Moira gave a surprised cough and raised an eyebrow. "Oh, um...hmmmmmm." She scratched at her scalp. "I was looking forward to studying the day and night cycle of a ghoul's REM pattern- Charon doesn't sleep, like...at all...but-" She turned around, rummaging through a small safe and holding up a folded piece of paper. "-I think it would be good for him to get away." The paper was laid flat on the countertop and slid forward. "Here's his contract, read it carefully...and take care of the big guy, will you?"

Gob slammed his hand down before the ex-raider. "Don't," he warned, "unless you don't want to keep your nuts attached, you'll leave her be. I know Charon, and the kid ain't with him, anymore. He won't hold back."

"Fuck you, shuffler." The smarmy drunk let loose a gasp, spittle dribbling down one side of his lips. A burp, and he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, rising from his seat. "You already made this bar turn to shit without Nova, you ain't going to keep me from getting some sweet pussy...not like you know what that's like."

Charon locked eyes with him as he made his approach, and the ghoul leaned forward and gave a growl in warning. Jericho suddenly dug up all the buried accounts of when he had verbally degraded the ghoul; he didn't understand why zombies were allowed in Megaton in the first place, all due and thanks to that damn kid. But he was dead and gone, and yet, the crimson ghoul had made his way back into the shithole of a town...wasn't so much of an eyesore when he was locked away in Miss Nutjob's store, but now he was running free and back in the limelight, and thankfully, with some attractive company.

"Hey doll." Jericho took the liberty of granting himself a seat at their table, and he displayed his horrid set of teeth as Evelyn raised an eyebrow at his assertiveness. "Whatcha drinking? It's on me."

A scrunch of her forehead as she regarded him with some damn fetching eyes. She was pretty, and his mind was beginning to delude itself into graphic imagery of them fucking.

"No," she said simply, and she turned her eyes back down to the letter she was reading.

He grunted; he had been rejected before, plenty of times, actually (not that he would ever honestly admit that to himself), but she was so dismissive. It battered the nose of his internal blood-lusting fiend.

"...how about a beer, and some friendly conversation?" he attempted again. He could not get the fantasy of her underneath him out of his head. "No one interestin' comes through this town too often; humor me."

"Humor yourself," she snapped, not bothering to look up. "I'm going to assume you know Charon here, so leave, or he'll be more than happy to assist you."

The ferryman provided brevity to her words. He rose from his chair, towering over the ex-raider with palpable menace.

Jericho gave a grotesque smile, holding up his hands in a small fashion of surrender as the sound of his own seat skidded across the floor. "Easy now, I was only being friendly...I know when I'm not wanted."

His internal fiend was now raging at her inside of a bruised and aged body; if he had been just twenty years younger, he would have creamed that rotting prick along the floor and just bent her over the table and had his way with her. At least, that's what he comforted himself with. The door to the saloon opened, and the ex-raider shot the barkeep a nasty glare as Gob simply shook his head at his failed endeavor.

After the man had exited, Charon gave a throaty sigh and plunked back down on the bench; a massive forearm came to rest on the table, his fingers tapping rhythmically along the wood.

She was chewing the end of her braid as she devoured his contract, and he glanced around the room. The Lone Wanderer's ghost was seated at the bar counter, a failed conversation being had with the former prostitute Nova- he was clumsily awkward, and she merely laughed at his bashful nature. A turn of his head. The kid was now accusing Moriarty of wasteland crimes, talking loudly in detail with the sheriff at his back. The previous bar owner was relieved of his citizenship in Megaton...no one knew where the scumbag had gone off to after he disappeared on the horizon, although, he did leave a parting gift of some Talon mercenaries to greet them down the line. There he was now, belligerently drunk after a drinking contest with Billy Creel, slurring words to a song on the radio as he line-danced solo to the beat of clapping hands, a goofy, handsome grin plastered on his face. Charon had been forced to carry him under one arm just to get him back to his room, that night.

"What is it that you do, exactly?" The question snapped him back to reality, and he inhaled sharply after realizing he had been holding his breath.

He looked down at her face and noticed his hand had clenched into a tight fist, his fingers digging into the soft leather of his gloves firmly enough to form indents. Immediately, he released his tension, drawing his arm back and anchoring his palms inside his lap.

"I am sorry," he mumbled under his breath.

"Are, are you alright? You look...sad." There was a tone of concern coloring her voice, and he snorted.

"I am fine," was all he said, and then he remembered her former question. "I take it you have finished reading my contract." His tone was completely void of emotion, but his eyes burned into hers as he met with her stare. Her eyes were so blue.

He made a mental note to himself to be more careful in his proceedings with her, if the ex-raider had anything to foreshadow. The wasteland was dangerous for women, especially ones with attractive features.

"I have." She folded it carefully, tucking it away inside an inner pocket of her jacket.

"Then you know you are entitled to my combat services," his rasping voice rumbled. Another glance around the room, no new threats were detected. Gob kept throwing the pair strange ganders, and the ferryman met his curious stare with a dangerous one.

"Well, o-kay, sure." Evelyn was twiddling her thumbs together, and she appeared to want to say something more, but she bit her bottom lip before the words could make themselves heard. "Hold on."

She rose from her spot, and he dutifully waited for her as she made her way to the bar counter. An exchange was given, as two Nuka-Cola's were slid forward in a trade for some caps. She plopped back into her seat, setting the two beverages before her.

"So, Charon, huh? Like the Ferryman..." She glanced up expectantly, but all he gave her in return was a blank stare. "Do you even know your own name? 'There Charon stands, who rules the dreary coast-' No? Well, I guess I'll just have to enlighten you on our journey..."

Her small hand was extended out.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm being rude. I'm Evelyn."

With a grumble, he gave it a light shake, and his indifference cracked into bewilderment as she nearly crushed his hand. His fingers flexed after she had released him, her smile now a cheeky grin.

"Although, I must say, you live quite well to your description- 'His eyes, like hollow furnaces on fire' – let us journey, my Ferryman, through our river of Styx! Sorry, I don't have a coin for you..." She held up an ice-cold bottle and waved it, then slid it to his elbow. "Will this Nuka-Cola do instead?"