Fallout Kink Meme Part IV: Closed to prompts, open for fills.

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Re: Heavy In Your Arms - Part 6a/?

[(Anonymous)]

Her hair, Charon realized as they headed towards the bar, had been left messy to hide part of her face. He could still see the ragged line that ran across her mouth, but she seemed to feel better with her eye and collarbone covered, so he let it be.

At the front door, Elle stopped and Charon almost ran into her.

“Is everything okay?” he asked hesitantly.

She didn’t respond at first and seemed to be bracing herself. When she spoke, her voice was shaky.

“Yeah, I just… needed a minute.”

Then she pushed through the door. The bar was packed with its typical late-night crowd. Elle didn’t seem to have expected this, and she froze in the doorway.

Charon placed a hand on her shoulder and leaned in to whisper in her ear.

“We don’t have to stay.”

Elle shook her head and walked forward, heading for an empty barstool in the corner. Charon followed and took his usual place at her side, leaning against the wall. He eyed the crowd for anyone checking her out, but thankfully, no one seemed to have noticed their arrival. Gob was the only one to spot her, and Charon realized at once that he had to warn him in some way before he made a mistake.

Gob was wiping the counter down as he sidled over, so Charon couldn’t get his attention until it was too late.

“Hey Elle, what can I get-”

Gob’s voice hitched as he looked up and took in her appearance. His forehead creased in concern and Charon knew that he was about to make a comment, so he stopped him with a quick shake of his head.

“-you?” Gob finished lamely. He made a valiant effort, but Elle had noticed.

“Just a beer, please,” she muttered, her shoulders hunching up towards her ears.

Charon shut his eyes and let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Great. It had taken Elle days to work up the confidence to even leave the house, and the first person she encountered tore it right back down.

Gob set a bottle on the counter in front of her and scooped up the small pile of caps before hurrying away. Charon watched as he approached Nova’s side and whispered into her ear, stealing a glance back in their direction. Charon couldn’t read their lips but he could imagine their conversation all too well.

“Don’t look now, but Elle’s got a nasty scar across her face. Haven’t seen her in a few days. Hope she’s okay,” he imagined Gob saying. Nova, of course, couldn’t help herself and looked over her shoulder towards the bar. Her eyes widened at seeing the scar in question, but Elle was staring glumly into her beer bottle and didn’t notice.

“Don’t say anything,” Gob warned her, but Nova shot him a look.

“Well no shit,” Nova hissed, folding her arms across her chest. When she glanced at Elle again, however, her face had softened with pity, “Poor girl.”

Charon clenched his fists angrily. Poor girl, they didn’t know the half of it. The attack didn’t just leave a physical scar, it had nearly killed her and he was sure she’d show some signs of emotional trauma when they eventually headed back into the wasteland. A near-death experience would traumatize anyone, let alone someone with a bodyguard who thought they were safe.

Guilt began to rise in his stomach, but before he could start feeling sick from it, Charon realized that people had started noticing Elle in the corner. They first spotted Nova and Gob whispering to each other, then their eyes followed the sight line to Elle.

The raucous peals of laughter faded away gradually and were replaced with muttered conversations as more and more people stared at them. Whether or not Elle had noticed, Charon didn’t know but he wanted to get her out of the bar as soon as possible.

“Hey, let’s get out of here…” he muttered, urging her gently from the barstool. Elle complied without a word. So she had noticed.

They were almost to the door, feeling eyes on their backs, when a loud voice stopped them.