The lightning illuminated everything for a moment, and some time ago, down in the depths of the Vault records, she remembered reading that one could tell the distance of the storm by how many seconds they could count between the blinding flash and the beating drums.

One-

The deathclaw roared, and in her mind she knew the storm was far from over, despite the later call booming across the sky.

A voice then cried out, and she didn't recognize it, but she was at once familiar with the urgency riding on the tailcoat of terror. "Hurry! This way!"

Charon gave her a more than encouraging shove from behind with a heavy "Go."

Girl, ghoul, and dog sprinted for the open door and beckoning old man with Hell just nipping at their heels and shrieking in their ears. The deathclaw's footsteps were big, and she fought the sob clawing its way up her throat as it sounded incredibly close, before the wind and rain and monster were left behind the close of a door.

Charon heaved all of his weight into the frame as it nearly bounced off its hinges, and the old man snapped at her as she just stood there as a stiff, lifeless doll while the huddled children cried in the corner.

"Help me with this, girl!"

Evelyn jolted, bounding into action as she came beside him to drag a rather heavy bookcase in front of the frame, with Charon finishing the job as they drew close.

The banging continued on the other side, seemingly shaking the entire house, followed by another roar that split the hairs on her head.

Evelyn breathed, "Holy fu-"

The door lurched once more, and then a sudden crack of splintering wood sprinkled over the three of them as the claws of the Devil himself shot through to grab the giant ghoul by the arm, sending him flying off his feet to slam into the bookcase as it tried to rip him straight through.

"Charon!"

Charon snarled, struggling with all his powerful might in an attempt to free himself, but then a faint, pained gasp left his mouth as there was a snap of a bone in his right arm. His shotgun was knocked from its holster just as his lighter tinkled out of its pocket, and he scrabbled for the knife at his waist and wasted no time in carving a few slabs of scaly hide to his feet whilst Evelyn whipped her head around for something of use.

Dogmeat launched himself at the elbow of the creature, sinking his sharp teeth in deep and being shaken like a stuffed animal as he held on with a slobbery growl.

Another crack of lightning, as bright as the bulb above her head.

The ghoul didn't notice her scoop up the flip lighter, too preoccupied playing tug-o-war for his limb as she took off through the back door. The rain was blinding, and the wind was biting, and the beat of her heart choked the breath in her chest.

Her soggy boots slapped the pavement as she sprinted back for the original house, and with a fierce raise of her head and a squaring of her shoulders, she shouted across the way with a challenge, "HEY! YOU UGLY PIECE OF SHIT LIZARD, OVER HERE!"

All at once, the beast stiffened and turned, meeting her challenge with a pure straightening of its ridged spine to its full height, the steam from its nostrils spraying water everywhere as it blew.

She waved a hand, taunting it to stroll on over and disembowel her. "COME ON!"

It then did something entirely unexpected- going down on all fours and loping towards her, covering the distance between them in merely three strides.

With a squeal of surprise, she bolted inside the house and to the kitchen, her asshole puckering at the rush of air and the stench of rot just over her shoulder. The catch of something extremely sharp pinched her thigh, and she would later come to realize she had very narrowly avoided being cleaved in half. She slipped, gliding like a monkey in skates across the tiles for a brief moment before she lost balance and smacked her skull into the corner of the counter, distorting her entire world with bright shooting stars.

Shit, shit! No! Get up! Go!

With a strangled gasp, she scrabbled away from the blur struggling to get through the narrow doorway and blinked at the first thing to come into focus- Jack, his eyes plucked from his skull and a trail of his intestines crammed down his throat past a dislocated jaw. There was no time to survey the others with as much morbid scrutiny as the deathclaw sounded off after dipping sideways to enter, the bones beneath her warm, thick flesh vibrating from its loud call. She crawled for the open door to the basement, tumbling about halfway down the steps to roll through the darkness and carcasses just as the deathclaw forced its way through and snapped at the air where her boot had just been.

Everything suddenly became quiet.

Evelyn felt every breath to be as loud as the crack of a gunshot, and as she slowly peered from behind a table and between a dangling of limbs on a hook, she saw the most captivating, and yet frightening thing of her entire life.

Two yellow, hot pools of glowing fire, suspended in that pitch of black, well above any normal height for a man and seemingly staring straight at her despite the lack of pupils they held.

They disappeared.

Evelyn stretched her fingers across the cold concrete of the basement floor, her entire body trembling and teeth chattering as a cold sweat broke out, soaking her hair and moistening the skin of her face and neck. She slowly crawled, hands and knees, around the other side where that demonic presence had just been, praying to God I'm not ready I'm not ready I'm not ready-

The faint light from upstairs shined, a lighthouse beckoning her to calmer waters and the safety of shore as she navigated the perilous dark seas back for the kitchen.

A loud scraaaaaaape of what sounded like nails scratching a chalkboard tickled electricity down her spine as she went a little faster, and then she felt a plume of hot air waft down her neck just as she began to climb the steps.

A shadow from the topside overtook them both, and a blast of fur flew over her head.

"Evelyn!" Charon barked for her at the landing, and she stampeded up the stairs back into the safety of his presence as a howl and a snarl and a sudden yelp called from behind.

She took his outstretched hand and turned to that wall of black, screaming, "Dogmeat!"

The dog appeared from seemingly nowhere, tossed upwards to crash into the overturned table and plates and leftover spread. Charon fired off two shots down below before slamming the door shut and turning around to find her switching all the knobs to the stove on, the smell of gas at once permeating.

She held up his lighter, and he understood.

Charon snatched the lighter back for himself as his other hand snagged at the bottle of brandy in the cupboard. He crammed a tea towel down the neck just as they reached the front door, and they heard the deathclaw burst through the basement door just as he had lit the Molotov cocktail and tossed it.

The ghoul snagged both girl and dog under an arm each, sprinting much faster than they were capable of as the explosion hit their backs with a waft of heat. A blood-curdling howl echoed from within the flaming nest of smoke and sizzling steam, the deathclaw's cries terrifying…and yet, disturbingly sad.

Charon didn't bother looking back as they came around to the other house again. He stood in the kitchen, all three streaming water all over the floor, with both packages still held tightly under his arms.

He then dropped them simultaneously, each hitting the floor with a thud.

"Did you manage to kill it?" the old man from before peered away from the tattered curtains at his window, overlooking the rising fire from within the Smith's residence. The children were cowered at his side, each clinging to the other with the frightful eyes of mice.

The ghoul said nothing but picked Evelyn up by the elbow before she could stand, hoisting her to her feet with one strong tug. She prepared herself for his curt reprimand, her chin already stubbornly jutting out with a sharp bite on the tip of her tongue, but he only stole the air from her lungs as he embraced her in a tight hug- if only for but a moment.

She was thrust away before she could register just what it was he was doing, and his eyes darted to and fro over every inch of her for any sign of injury. His eyes landed on the red, broken skin of her forehead where she had tumbled.

"Are you hurt?" he rasped.

A shake of her head. "I'm alright. Nothing hurts." Her hands came up to rest on his forearms, the beads of rain on her lips licked away. "Are you?"

He bluntly grunted, "My arm is broken."

Almost immediately, her brows shot up and her words were prepared to be less than patient, but he smothered them with another surprising gesture in which he held the sides of her face to shush her with a kiss.

They broke away with a faintly audible smack, and he procured a Stimpak from a satchel and began to examine his arm off to the side without another look at her.

A rare heat blossomed from her chest, warming her cold skin with a dazzling display of fireworks in the pit of her belly, and she glanced over to the onlookers off to the side, now feeling rather shy from the light exchange.

The old man was having none of it as he once again asked in a no-nonsense sort of tone, "So? Is it dead?"

Charon flexed his hand and curled his bicep after the initial injection, replying just as plainly, "I do not know."

The little girl began to cry, and the boy roughly rubbed an arm across his face as he struggled to contain his sobs while Jenny keened, "It's going to eat us!"

Evelyn crouched beside the dog, inspecting him as she lifted his paws and ran her hands through his blood-clotted fur. With a pat on his slobbery snout, she turned to them and said, "No, it won't eat you. I promise."

"Why do you care?!" the boy shouted, the tears and snot dripping off his chin. "You killed our parents!"

"Junior that's enough of that!" the old man snapped. The children shrank away, and he finally sighed with a nod of his head. "You kids go on and get to bed- you'll be in my room tonight. Go on, get going, and close the door."

Junior eyed the woman and ghoul with strong distrust. "But Grandpa-"

"I said to get going, and I won't hear another word about it."

The children pattered to the room, their hands held tightly together as the boy gave one last look to Evelyn before closing them out.

The old man sat on a well-worn cushion of a chair in the corner, all of his years suddenly meeting him at the finish line as he tiredly waved a bony and wrinkled hand.

"You're welcome to wait out the storm…and I'll answer any questions you may have."

Charon barricaded both doors while Evelyn took a seat on the couch, watching this strange old man in his tired chair and how the lightning played eerie shadows across his lined face.

A crack of thunder- the storm was rolling on.

"What is this place?" she asked, and was at once received with the history of Andale and its cannibalistic community and the generations of incest shared between the families.

"I'm not proud of what we did," Old Man Harris said quietly, his voice full of shame and his eyes heavy with regret. "But it was normal to us, you see…but once I had left it, now, looking back…I wish I had ended it sooner when I had the chance."

Charon remained at the window, staring past the curtains to the house completely engulfed in flames, the steady downpour of rain their only assurance it wouldn't spread.

Evelyn saw a small bundle in her lap, and she said hoarsely, "The children didn't know, did they?"

"No. No, they weren't old enough yet, but they would have, when the time came. We're not going to live that life anymore, and when they get older to understand things a little better, I'm sure they'll be grateful for it."

"…will you be okay out here, by yourselves? Megaton is-"

"I appreciate it, but Andale is still our home, and we'll be just fine." Old Man Harris winced as he shifted his weight, a hand going for his lower back. "I'll have to teach Junior how to track molerats and flush them from their dens, but we'll manage."

She stared at the floor, each in their own thoughts as she then said, "I can have traders from Canterbury Commons pass through, if that would help, now that it's safe."

He gave her a look like she'd gone mental. "You'd do that? For us? Why, we've only tried to have you for dinner."

"It's nothing, really. I'm sure you could use the extra supplies."

He considered it for a minute before finally nodding his head and leaning back further in his seat. "That'd be mighty fine of you, girl. It would make this old man rest a little easier knowing we had some visitors now and then in case I kick the bucket too soon."

The night waned on.

The old man fell asleep in his chair, snoring loud enough to stir the Devil as Evelyn tossed and turned on the couch, unable to close her eyes for more than a few seconds before she saw those tiny hands and feet.

Charon watched her restlessness from his post at the window, his eyes never straying too long and too far in the event the scaly phoenix rose from the ashes. He said nothing until she turned to him, blinking at his large figure under the dim lighting.

"Did you see them?" she whispered, and she didn't have to elaborate as to what it was haunting her mind's eye.

He nodded, once. "I did."

She said thickly, "How could someone do something like that?"

The ghoul then looked at her, his eyes the same burning yellow as the deathclaw's had been. "It is the wasteland."

She rolled her back to him, and dreamed of swaying from meat hooks in a fire while the deathclaw devoured her, from her tiny feet to her missing eyes.

The storm purged the flames long before the rising of the sun, and Charon carefully inspected the pulpy ash and charred boards with his hound of a gun, the muzzle sniffing out the remains of the deathclaw that had been trapped under the rubble. Its bloated tongue lolled out from the side of its maw, the mandible having been blown off in the explosion.

He holstered his weapon and nodded to Evelyn, who was standing well away as per his request. "It is dead."

She turned and spoke with the elderly smoothskin, and he requested of them to dispose of the small shed behind the other house.

"It'll be good to be rid of it, and thank you for what you've done…you've made Andale a better place."

Charon kicked down the shed door and stepped inside with a can of gasoline, dousing the empty stares of the decapitated heads all piled in a plastic bin before he trailed it outside. He flipped his lighter and lit a scrap of paper before dropping it at his feet, and they watched the meat shack soon become engulfed in flames before they finally made their way to leave.

There was a colorful bruise on her face, but she spoke nothing of it, and so he left it. She said it didn't hurt.

Charon studied the route on her Pip-Boy back for Megaton as he took the lead, avoiding the outskirts of Fairfax ruins as he spied piked heads and heard the faint fanfare of gunfire coming from within. Evelyn seemed to pay no mind to his steps, and she remained as silent as a ghost as she followed him with the mutt loyally at her side.

The rising blight of Megaton was, for once, easy on the eyes. Charon was unsurprised, but positively annoyed, that Evelyn's first manner of business was to speak with the caravan traders just outside the gates, and he stood there with a cross of his arms and a grumble on his lips as he carefully watched the trader watching her.

"Anyone else, and I would have called them a fool," Crow told her. "I'll be sure and spread the word and mark it on my future trails. You never fail to surprise me, Lone Wanderer."

Evelyn rolled her eyes at the title and gave him a wave of her hand as she met Charon back at the top of the hill. "I'm not alone!"

"No…" Crow looked over to Charon, and their eyes held. "You most certainly aren't."

The Mister Handy was greeted by a stomping of their muddy boots, disheveled fur, and overall sour smell. The robot nearly collapsed at the sight of the three of them coming through the front door and stripping their gear and emptying their pockets and making a general mess of things, and then the big ghoul simply watched her climb the steps to her room and shut the door behind her.

Dogmeat whined and scratched after having been left out.

Charon went to the fridge, his begging stomach reminding him of their lack of dinner, breakfast, and lunch. It was empty.

He knocked on her door, looking down at the dog looking up at him with its thoughtless eyes. "I shall return…are you alright?"

There was a creak as he heard her shift around in her bed, her voice tired and muffled behind the frame. "I think I just need some sleep."

He left for the saloon, not bothering to bathe or wipe the blood from his uniform, his thoughts less than pleasant and his odor worser still. It would appear Andale had troubled her in some way, and he would have to think on it and what to do to make it better. The door to Gob's opened, and the packed-to-the-brim barhouse fell deathly silent as he strode inside. He ignored them all, and the chatter crescendoed again after he merely took a seat on a stool at the end.

The bartending ghoul came close, his face crinkled in what would appear to be disgust.

"Finally back, huh?" he rasped. "What happened to you? You look like you've been through Hell…kind of smell like it, too."

Charon kept his voice low, and Gob came closer still at how his rasp was hesitant. "…I require a favor."

Gob not-so-subtly looked around the room.

"O-oh, like, as in…?" Gob drew a thumb across his neck, and Charon would have outright laughed at his face for such a bizarre assumption. Gob, take care of his enemies?

He doubted the bartender could handle the sopping end of a mop without a fight.

"No," he said flatly instead, and then he leaned a little forward, and Gob met him there, their foreheads nearly touching as he almost whispered, "I need…to look pretty."

Gob jerked back, and then bellowed.

The entire bar placed their private lives on pause to swivel their heads around and record theirs. Charon snapped his neck a million ways at the curious eyes taking in the scene of this normally timid ghoul barking enough air to whip up a sandstorm.

Charon growled and shot a hand up to snatch the ghoul by the collar, making him yelp as he smacked him back down to the counter.

"Enough!" Charon snarled.

The ex-prostitute called over, "Hey, you boys better play nice."

Gob waved a hand and wheezed, "We're good, Nova, everything's fin-urgck!"

Charon had twisted just a little harder, his rasp deathly serious. "Make. Me. Pretty."

Gob swiveled an eye to him, gargling, "I-I don't know what you mea- eck! Stop choking me!"

Charon released him, and the ghoul nearly fell on his ass as he saw every star in the night sky under his lids. The bigger ghoul waited for him to regain his breath, growling at anyone who ventured close in hopes of a refill for their empty glass. They would all wait, for nothing was more important than this.

Gob smacked an arm on the counter to hoist himself partway up, his eyes blinking stupidly at the face that would never, in a million fucking years, ever be considered worthy of being…pretty.

Charon flexed his fingers, curling them into fists as he took a deep inhale through his nostrils and then said, "She does not like it. I need it fixed. I need you to help me."

Gob still just stared, and Charon irritably sighed as he motioned to his face.

"Evelyn does not like this," he spat. "Fix it."

"Wha-what?" Gob dumbly said. "She told you she doesn't like you as a ghoul?" Gob couldn't understand the logic- he was utterly flabbergasted.

Charon deflated, and he simmered in a pout to the side. Gob had never seen the man so fucking sad…if ever. He didn't even think the bouncer was capable of anything beyond anger.

"No," Charon bitterly admitted. "But I know this. We have not been having sex."

"Have you asked her why?"

"Yes…and she would not discuss it." He raised his eyes once more. "…I did not know who else to turn to."

Gob awkwardly rubbed at his head, looking over this giant ghoul and considering the impossible. "I'm not sure I'm the one to turn to, either…but I think I know someone you could."