Hello! I know I have several stories in the process. Whoops B] . But I got this sudden urge to write a few stories about a lone wanderer who is as dumb as a bag of hammers with a twist. I didn't want to go the dumb 'ha, ha' as much as the dumb 'poor thing' route with him. I kinda like where this is going. I tried something new in my writing. And I kind of turned it into a slash story between Butch and a M!lone wanderer. So I would kindly ask for reviews for practically everything: Spelling errors, missing details, things you as readers would like to see put into later chapters if not the next chapter, things I should fix/change etc. Also I want to apologize for a bit of out of character-ness. Not much, just a little but it explains itself. So without further ado here's chapter one!

Chapter 1

A Look and A Prayer

Large green eyes, wavy brown hair, bright smile, a kiss on the mouth. This was how he was greeted every day for three years. Then came the look... One that said I really like you but was actually void of intelligence. Stupid. It was the same look he saw every day they were together. He was a year older so his memory was longer. And he remembered that same face. It changed from time to time. The expression. Not the look. Before, he never thought about it but at the age of five, his four year old friend still gave that same look. He was more aware of it now than a year ago. More aware of a lot of things. How the younger kid spoke in broken sentences, always made a mess when he ate or drank, he ran into things and tripped over everything. A few months ago was when he noticed it. His friend, was... off.

And it was that same look today to.

"I want to thank you Ellen. I'd never get any work done in the clinic if not for you watching my son." The man has a soft voice with a accent. One he never heard from any of the other residence in the vault.

The single mother gave a flamboyant laugh having already began her morning with a short tumbler of vodka. "Nonsense, I'm happy to get to watch over such a special young man."

Special

That was the word but he took it as something else. Grognak was special. He was strong and fought things. His friend was not special. They would play and the kid hung on every word he said. Always that same look. Never arguing. Always agreeing. But was always smiling at him. Even when he got his special friend into trouble for something he didn't do.

"Mom?" He couldn't take it anymore. He is going to ask.

The two adults look at him with expectant smiles.

"What's wrong with Fred?" He looks frustrated. The boy named Fred clung to his arm.

They look at him oddly. His mother releases a giggle "Butchie, there's nothing wrong with that. He just likes you."

Butch shook his head and crosses his little arms "No, I mean what is wrong with him." He gestures to the entirety of Fred.

Ellen frowns "Butchie, that's not very nice." She looks at Fred's father with an ashamed, sorry look.

He chuckles slightly "No, no. I imagined Butch is just curious." He waves Butch over and places a hand on the boys shoulder "You see Butch, Frederick was born a little different. As a result he doesn't think like you or the other children. And I want to thank you for being kind to him," he watches Butch look away at the compliment "I'm sure you're asking this because it's confusing and a little hard to deal with?" Butch nods "So you can see why he needs your help?" Butch nods reluctantly. At that the doctor pats Butch on the shoulder and smiles "Thank you, unfortunately I have to go now" he stands causing Fred to cry, like every time before. "I'll be back soon champ, be good" he gives him a pat on the head and walks out.

Fred cries and runs for his father. Eyes shut tight, arms out, door frame stops him dead in his tracks.

He forgot about his dad and cries on the floor. Butch rolls his eyes and kneels by him, Fred doesn't notice, only cries.

"Hey, lets go play." He gives a tired look.

"Play?" Fred wipes his eyes and looks at Butch. Sad face. Same look.

Butch pulls his hand "Yeah, play."

Three years later

Kids can be cruel. To cruel.

Bullies

Kids can be cowards.

Timid

They group themselves, who's who. Who is like who. Who accepts who.

"I said leave me alone nosebleed." He pushes, shoving a boy away.

Laughter

His special friend hits the floor. To stupid to cry. Only a whimper. Three years and it's still that look.

A girl bounds to him crying loudly for Fred, calls the three boys "Mean"

Everyone calls them mean. They call themselves misunderstood.

He laughs in his head 'yeah, misunderstood' behind his angry glare he hopes Fred can see how sorry he is.

He doesn't hate Fred. He wants to impress. Wants acceptance. Wonders how many days before Fred stays away from him so he won't have to be mean. He doesn't feel right when he is.

Three weeks and two days. Fred finally stopped coming near him. Unfortunately his new friends have other plans. They get him to bully Fred anyway. Sometimes they do it alone and drag him along. He joins anyway to save his standing. He still apologizes behind the backs of his group.

Fred is always happy to see him. Always. And always greeted Butch the same. Bright eyes, bright smile, a kiss. And that look. He always forgave Butch. Always. When Butch explains, Fred listens.

Three years later

He couldn't believe he was here. Even his friends where here. Now at this time. The diner was dark. Everyone waited. The vaults most special resident turns ten. His special friend turns ten. He waited patiently, pretending to be irritated. Six years of acting. His friends never knew. Fred didn't know. Of course, Fred didn't know anything. Everyone heard the door open. Then the lights came on. Blinding. It was expected but nonetheless. Blinding.

Fred clearly had no clue, he squealed delighted at the sight.

In his head he was laughing. Outside he couldn't care less.

"Happy Birthday!" The room said collectively. Minus he and Wally

They were busy mocking everything, he still listens though.

'Happy Birthday' he says in his head.

The overseer enters the room, jerk, he watches him. Watches him interrupt Fred's dad to give him his pip-boy. Big jerk. He held in a laugh watching Fred. He was starting at the ceiling, at something invisible, turns around to follow it's non-existent movements. Then turning to stop and look at the overseer with glee. He looked happy, happy but it was still that look. Watched Fred talk to Paul. Still happy, still that look. He and Wally gave Paul a hard time for talking to him. He watched Fred speak to everyone. Receive gifts. Fred even spoke to Andy as if the robot was a person. Then Andy promptly destroyed the cake, as if he were programmed to. Everyone in the room literally held their breath. It could go one way or the other with Fred, either a screaming, oxygen deprived fit, or a charming addictive laugh. They exhaled and smiled together when Fred laughed and wipes cake from his face.

He let a laugh slip causing a raised look from his friends which he had to fix. 'Think Butch... think." he bit his lower lip. In controlled panic he stands up. Gets in Fred's face. Fred loses his smile slightly.

"I'm hungry and that stupid robot destroyed the cake." He glares "Gimme' that sweet roll." He demands.

Fred looks at the pastry. He doesn't want to give it away but it's Butch who wants it. "Okay." He hands it over reluctantly "I'm not hungry."

He turns to Wally and Paul. Bites the sweet roll triumphantly with a smirk. In his head he was dying, he would have to make up for this later.

The party was over as quick as it began when Fred left.

After hours, before curfew he knocks on the door to the doctors. The doctor wasn't home. Still working, was always working, left Fred alone too often. Fred opens the door. Gives him that look. Face smiling, still the same look, as though he forgot what happened. Which, he probably did.

"Hi Butch. Wasn't that the best party!?" Fred was still happy. Still excited.

Butch found it hard to look at him. Regret. Ashamed, yeah he felt like an ass. "Yeah, it was... really cool." He wasn't going to say it this time. He wasn't going to say sorry "Here," he handed Fred a comic book. His own Grognak the barbarian comic. "Sorry, you know... about the sweet roll thing" He says it anyway, his conscience digging, eating at him.

Fred beamed in delight "Oh, wow!" Butch couldn't get away fast enough. Fred was hugging him. Kissing him. It kinda hurt, made his chest squeeze tight and his heart felt like it was being stabbed with a dull knife. "Thank you much!" He let go and plopped to the floor to look at it. Even though he had seen it many times before. Fred looks at Butch, waiting for him to sit with him.

Reluctantly, he does. He stays quiet listening to Fred. He is simple.

He stays there watching and listening. He lets himself smile. Fred nudges him a few times making him look at what he finds funny. He has to go. But doesn't.

Two years later

It's stupid he still lets Fred kiss him in greeting. He doesn't care. As long as it's private, Fred knows this. He made it clear to Fred. Told him they were too old, which caused tears to fall. Simple. Fred is still happy with simple things. Still cries about simple things. He was glad Fred understood about privacy. He hated to hit Fred. But did when he got to close and they were almost caught by Wally and Paul.

One year later

He didn't even say goodbye. No more. He wasn't doing this anymore. It was killing his conscience. Hurt his heart to keep hurting his... No not friend. Not anymore. He stopped meeting Fred in private. Stopped indulging his simple way of thinking. Ignored Fred completely. When Fred tried, even without witnesses he would knock him away. This time it took a week and three days for Fred to understand.

Three years later

He and his friends, The Tunnel Snakes. Tunnel Snakes rule. Every day since that day three years ago, he acted like he didn't even know Fred. Alienated him. When they officially became The Tunnel Snakes they harassed everyone within limits. Fred always became the butt of their jokes. There wasn't a soul that didn't feel bad for him. Except maybe the overseer. And his father didn't seem to notice. People wondered if he even cared about his son, if he even noticed the bruises. It just seemed to make it easier for Butch and his gang.

Today was different. Today Fred didn't look the same when he got to them from the clinic. Because Fred was absent, they turned their attention to Amata. She was worried. Scared. Fred spoke to Butch first. His tone no one expected. It was vicious. "Leave her alone or you'll have to deal with me."

Everyone even Amata was startled. Little Fredrick was standing up to Butch. Butch lifts from the wall. Brushes it off like he was hearing a slightly funny joke "Is that right?" He smirks and nods to Wally and Paul.

One strike. Paul was out cold. Paul was a pushover, it wouldn't usually surprise anyone, except for one fact. Fred was the size of a ten year old. A small ten year old, the boy only reached a height of four foot ten. His size never seemed to bother the gang. Or his disabilities. Fred took a strikes few to the face before another strike of his own. Wally crumpled to the floor, not out but holding his head as if he had been smashed with a wall. It was up to Butch. As soon as Fred hit him in the gut. Then struck him in the face. It was over. Butch had the wind knocked out of him. Both had faces that began to swell and turn purple. But Butch still stood. Fred took Amata by the hand, pulling her to the classroom. Away from danger.

It was like turning off a light. Fred was his normal, amused by everything self. Smiling while looking at everything. The look seemed to die slowly over the past four years. It was less stupid. As if he was beginning to understand what he was looking at. With a little thought. But it was still lacking.

He stared at him throughout the GOAT. Wondering what happened. Trying to figure it out. Fred never did that before. Not a glance. Not even a sign that he was going to ever do that. When confronted he would act as always and then get beat up.

Compared to the Fred from before. Even the Fred now. Fred from fifteen minutes ago. Was... Scary.

Never in a million years would he use that word to describe Fred. He wanted to figure this out. He had to know what happened.

"Well who woulda thunk it, hair dresser." That bastard Brotch. He never wanted to pull someone's eyes out before more than now. Apparently he was enjoying reading everyone's results out loud.

But since he is. He waited around for Fred to finish staring at his test. This was going to be rich. He already figured a trash burner or a janitor. Then the vision of Fred catching himself on fire or mixing the wrong chemicals together and suffocating to death passed the forefront of his mind and he shivered.

Fred held up his test, tilted the paper one way, his head another and smiled. This was it. He stiffens against the wall when Fred hands his test over.

Mr Brotch examines it. He smiles.

He had no idea why his heart was beating a mile a minute. The anticipation was killing him. Or at least was going to put him in cardiac arrest.

"I always thought you'd have a career in professional sports. You're the new vault Little League coach! Congratulations."

Fred claps his hands and practically giggles. Butch chokes on the dryness in his throat. Brotch and Fred look at him slightly in concern.

Not only were they going to let Fred around baseball bats. They were going to let him teach children to play baseball? Fred couldn't pour water from a boot with the instructions on the bottom of it. Now he is concerned. Fred is practically a child, everyone knows that. But to be a coach one has to be... tuff.

While in shock he missed Fred leave. Fuck. He has a feeling he's in the clinic. He was. Fred can be heard from the surface of the sun. His squeals of delight as he told his dad. He slowly reaches the door waiting. The excitement died. He spies Fred walking to the exit. He doesn't even try to hide. Fred walks out. And right past him. He's not surprised, after three years ago he pretends Butch isn't there. It usually causes him to get beat up.

He follows him. Still doesn't try to hide. They both live in this direction, that's a good excuse.

Fred becomes aware of him. Walks faster. Butch walks faster, he was going to lose his chance if Fred made it home. Fred looks back, mistake. Fred walks past the turn, into the extension of wall that made a corner. He knew it was going to happen, he begins to run.

Catches Fred by the collar of his jumpsuit.

Fred struggles "Butch! Wait!"

Pulls Fred home.

"I'm sorry!"

Pulls him inside. Hands grasping at his. Clumsy.

"Please, I'm sorry Butch!"

Closes the door.

Fred is crying. It's like a flood.

Drags Fred to his room, closes that door to.

He lets him go to sob on the floor, and waits.

"What did I do?" Still crying.

Butch raises a brow. Really? He doesn't know? Bullshit. He steps closer, Fred flinches. He kneels, Fred practically stops breathing.

"Fred..." He begins. He didn't expect to be latched onto. Didn't expect to be cried on. He waits for silence, it wasn't happening anytime soon. "Fred..." He repeats. More alpha to his tone.

The crying slowly dies. Stops.

He pries Fred loose. Looks at his swollen red eyes. Trying to see it. Trying to find the scary Fred. Can't see it. "Why..."

A few tears still fall. This is the sorry Fred. Scared. Cornered Fred.

"What happened to you?" He asks. Tone low. Comforting. Stern. Dealing with Fred. It was second nature.

Fred stares. Confused Fred is harder to deal with.

"Before the GOAT." He clarifies.

Fred sucks air through his nose. Sucking air through swollen nostrils. "What happened?"

Butch rolls his eyes. "You gave me this." Points to his bruised cheek bone.

Then it was back. That look. Fred looks at the bruising skin. Not sure. "Are you sure?"

Butch angers. "Bullshit Fred! You knock out Paul, give Wally a concussion, and black my eye?" He breaths in a deep huff of air. The slight pain that lingered reminded him "Oh and..." He tears off the black leather jacket. Unzips his jumpsuit. And removes his t shirt, his ribs where bruised to. "You almost break my ribs."

Fred stared on. Confused Fred turns to concerned Fred. "No." Stubborn Fred steps in.

Butch furrows his brows waiting for the rest of the sentence "No?"

Stubborn Fred crosses his arms "No, I didn't." He huffs "I don't do that." Looks away, like he was four again. Pouting, baby Fred.

His jaw hit the floor, he can't believe what he heard "That's Bullshit. You know it." He presses the issue "Fred, I'd think I would know how I got bruises like this."

Concerned Fred looks back. Looks at Butch. His face, bruised. Then his rib, also bruised. "I not remember." Sad Fred surfaces. Reaches out. Touches purple skin. Leans forward and kisses the purple cheek.

His face turns warm. Fred hasn't kissed him in years. His own fault. Forced him away those few years ago. He didn't notice Fred move until those lips were on his rib. On the bruise.

A kiss on each defined knuckle printed in purple. Four. He had to mentally catch up. When the first kiss was delivered his brain stopped working. Butch has to push him away. This was bad. But it didn't feel natural, his heart squeezing. Not right, makes him light headed. He realizes he hasn't moved. Still. Has. To. Stop.

"Fred..." He pushes him away by his shoulders. Swallows hard.

Fred doesn't know what he was doing. Shocked Fred. "Not better?" He asks.

He understands why Fred did it. 'Kiss it, to make it better' He feels like a creep for getting over excited. "It's fine." He puts a hand on his forehead. "It's better." He pokes Fred. Pokes the bruise on his face.

"Ouch!" Fred covers it. Tears Slowly fall. "Butch, kiss it, make it better?"

His chest squeezes again. He had kissed injuries for Fred before. Why did this feel... different?

He stands. Walks away. He can hear Fred cry. Tries to ignore it.

One year later

He didn't want to go back to two lives. Too much hassle. Upside. The Tunnel Snakes, left Fred alone after his sudden split personality incident. They still tussled. Occasionally. Scary Fred appeared more often during these times. And disappeared as soon as the fight was over. Paul and Wally wanted Fred to join their gang. He didn't like it, seeing Fred as anything but himself. But... but, he wouldn't have to be so distant from him anymore.

Fred beamed when they present him with his very own black leather jacket. Green and yellow snake dawning the back. No one else believed what they saw. Fred, special Fred, is now a Tunnel Snake. Tunnel Snakes Rule!

The motto had never been spoken by someone so proud. By someone so dumb. By someone so... Special.

He was happy for Fred. At the same time it annoyed him. Maybe it was the way Fred looked. Not that look. He got used to it a long time ago. They way he looked when with the others. They accepted him to easily. Wally more than Paul. Paul seemed genuine. Wally. He knows there is a hidden agenda. Knows Wally. He's never this nice. Not even to him. Definitely not to Fred.

He will talk to Fred, make him understand. Force him to understand if he has to.

It's after curfew. Lights in the hall, dimmed. Lights at the Doc's apartment, on. As expected, Fred was still afraid of the dark.

After they went back to how they were before, he stopped knocking. There wasn't any point, the only people that Fred expected were his father and Butch. And as expected Fred was still awake hiding in a blanket on the couch. Waiting for him, or his father to show up. Because of Fred's disability he never did grow properly like the other kids. His friend had a body to match his mind. Little. Childlike. Frail to an extent. From what he learned from Doc Stroder, Fred had a vitamin and mineral problem while in his mothers womb. It led to Fred being the way he is. It still amazed him how he could fight the way could. As though he were someone else completely.

He sits beside his friend, surprised by the lack of movement. By now he was being smiled at, hugged, kissed. But tonight, nothing. He peels away the blanket slowly, Fred doesn't budge. Not even a bat of his eyes.

"Fred?" He asks words laced with concern. His brows knitted in worry. His thoughts swarmed was he to late? Had Wally already done something? probably already humiliated Fred somehow. But the past few weeks that Fred became one of them Fred never left his sight let alone Wally. "Fred?" He asks again, this time gaining a reaction.

Fred inhales sharply and tears roll down his cheek. "Butch, no." He seemed worried and scared of something "Go home Butch." He moves away clinging to himself "You don't be here." His voice cracks with each word "he..." He closes his mouth and stops talking.

Butch finds it strange but doesn't move. He who? He moves closer reaching for Fred "He who?"

Fred flinches tries to get away but can't get past the arm of the couch. "You know, he..." He swallows hard, scared.

Butch presses the issue "Who is he Fred?" His voice is calm.

"He want you here." He sobs. Those words disturbed Butch.

"Why? Why does he want me here? Who is he Fred? Where is he?" He asks in slight panic. This time he swallows hard.

"He has a different name, looks like me. Scares me." He cries more "He tells me things. Tells me do things." He hides his face in his knees.

"Is he with you now, Fred? Is he telling you do things now?" He asks, he slowly begins to understand. Butch is not as stupid as he lets on, he knows somethings wrong with Fred.

Fred only nods and clings tighter to himself.

"What is he telling you to do Fred?" He prays this is only a game Fred had created.

Fred frantically shakes his head.

"Use your words Fred, what is he telling you to do?"

He tried to bury his face deeper "Tells me do things to you. Wrong things. Bad things." Fred was withdrawing into himself.

His face lit with shock. Is Fred threatening me? He pauses to think why would he do that? "What kind of bad things?" He was going to have to ask more questions.

Fred lifts his head and looks at Butch as if Butch should have understood. "He wants you... He wants you mad at me..." He drops his head and grips it in his hands, brown curls snake through his fingers and he pulls. Shakes his head with clenched eyes and teeth "Go away, Fred." He growls out. "Not tell me what to do Bingo."

Butch moves away slightly. He doesn't know how to help Fred this time. This time he becomes scared of him. He shakes his head and frowns, he isn't scared of anything nonetheless anyone, especially not Fred. He reaches for Fred once again. "Fred, are you..."

His words caught in his throat. Fred moved like lightning in an instant he had Butch pinned to the couch. This was a Fred he had never seen.

This Fred had different eyes, the look this Fred gave was, is, dangerous. It was the scary Fred mixed with something else, this Fred has strength. A disturbing amount, no wonder that first fight with him was rather quick.

"So, little Butch wants to help." Fred was laughing at him, no not Fred, Bingo. He struggles, tries to get away, doesn't want to hurt Fred. He received the back of Bingo's hand across his face, causing his vision to spot, followed by fingers sharply holding him in place. "Where the fuck do you think you're going?" His laugh rises from deep in his gut. Malicious.

"Let me the fuck go Fred!" He warns angrily. He can feel a slight trickle of blood tickle his face. Not Fred, this was not Fred.

Bingo glares"Why? So you can run away again? And don't call me Fred." He growled.

Don't call me? His eyes widen in shock at the realization. The words resonated in his mind repeating over and over.

"The wheels are finally turning." A low chuckle "I've been here all along. Watching you." He whispers into his captives ear, then slowly pulls away still keeping him pinned.

He looks up into those different eyes with alarm. "What? When? Why?"

He tilts his head "Why not?" He closes his eyes slightly and his grip lessens. Butch thought to move to get away but he freezes when he sees Bingo smirk and get up.

The door to the apartment opens with a hiss and Fred seems to act normal skipping to his father and hugs him "Daddy!" He says like normal but when Butch looks up and over, those eyes are there locked on him like he's a fly in a web.

He takes the opportunity to stand and walk out swiftly, he stops on the other side of the door and looks back. That look. It's still not Fred but Bingo. His guts wrench in knowing its one he will be looking for. A look to avoid.

One month later

It became a daily occurrence to see those eyes, Bingo's eyes. His Fred was still there, he spoke to him all the time. But as soon as they were alone, he was always met by those eyes. His gentle Fred couldn't keep the dangerous Bingo away.

They would fight. Scream obscenities at each other. And it always ended with Butch pinned down. Bingo wanted a different relationship with Butch and being nipped at and sucked on was usually how they ended their fights. His neck began to look like it was adorned with a collar made of hickeys. When one began to fade, it was soon replaced with a fresh one. The strange way Bingo was showing affection, confused Butch to no end and at some point he almost gave up trying to figure out why. The way Bingo behaved, he soon figured out what Fred meant when he said Bingo wanted him. The thing he couldn't understand was why Bingo wanted him to hate Fred.

He couldn't simply hate one without hating the other. Could he? They shared the same face the same body. Only difference was the look. Where Fred displayed childish whim, Bingo portrayed devilish intent. Two sides of the same shiny coin. It killed him to know that even when Bingo took over, Fred was still aware. It caused him grief to comfort Fred each time he was given back control and would cry and beg and apologize. Would always beg to be forgiven, which he always was.

He was snapped back from his thoughts when Bingo's hand delved lower. After a month of strictly making out, this was a bold move for Bingo. "Stop." He breathed out.

Bingo looked up licking and biting his lips. "Why?"

Butch rolled his eyes and pushed Bingo away "I don't like it." He sat up the best he could with Bingo sitting on him.

He was given a chuckle and a squeeze to his groin "That's not what it looks like to me."

He withheld a groan behind clenched teeth "Fred doesn't like it." He answered in a deep tone.

"Fuck Fred!" Bingo stormed shoving Butch. He lowered his brows then it was like a light came on and Bingo's grin became disturbing "Or," he laughed "Is that what you want?"

Butch smacked him across the face enough to make his point, without causing real damage "Quit your shit, it's not like that." He glares and stands shoving Bingo aside.

Bingo is on him in a second, pushing himself against Butch, wrapping his arms around his waist. "Oh, so you mean you don't love Fred?" His smile is full of vinegar.

Butch looks down and frowns when Bingo taps the side of his head. He rolls his eyes. "That's not what I mean and you know it!." He shimmies free from Bingo. "Stop putting words in my mouth." He turns his back to Bingo

Bingo only takes the challenge he crosses his arms "That's not all I'd like to put in your mouth."

He freezes at the remark. But storms out with a huff, only hearing laughter. Laughter that fades the further away he gets.

One month later

It wasn't so much that he didn't know what to do, as he just didn't know what to do anymore. He couldn't get away from Bingo. And what made things worse ever since Bingo made the point of it, he couldn't get away from Fred either. Fred demanded more of his time, he wanted Butch to love him more. Wanted more attention than he was giving to Bingo. He was beginning to lose his mind. The difference between the two began to blur together, the looks, the attitude, even how they spoke. Fred still didn't swear, and Bingo still came on way too strong but the way they both seemed to hang onto him, it was becoming too much to handle.

He did however get Bingo to agree to equal time with Fred's body with Fred. Weather he was around them or not he wanted to make it fair for Fred. He knew Fred was already in a prison of his own but to be denied the ability to move and speak freely was just cruel. Told Bingo he wouldn't put up with it, that he would ignore him if he didn't agree.

It made Fred happy, and that was all he cared about. His friend was more important to him than Bingo and his instant tries to get into his pants. He did figure out that behind the walls, inside their head that Bingo was telling Fred things. Putting ideas into Fred thoughts. Still telling Fred to do things. He didn't want to listen to his body during these times. Fred required a gentle touch, Bingo was full steam ahead. And he was just glad he is able to keep the beast at bay. They may only be a year younger but their size was testing all his limits. Fred didn't fully understand what he was wanting from Butch only that Bingo was telling him that it was okay to keep trying anyway.

He did love Fred, but he didn't want Bingo twisting it, he figured the twist would ride the lines of pity. That Bingo would tell Fred that Butch loved him out of pity because Fred was stupid. That no one would love him for real. He knew he had to tread carefully with both of them.

One month later

It's late, his day left him exhausted. Today was Fred's day to have control. Bingo only intervened when Fred couldn't control the little league children he was trying to teach. He made it a point to keep an eye on Fred on the days he was coaching. Helped him out the best he could, he needed to let go or he was going to die from a heart attack before he was twenty. Fred was a walking hazard to himself.

He didn't even care where he put his things, all he knew was he wanted to lay down and pass out. That was until he felt his bed move around him. He groaned internally knowing who it was. "Fred, go home..." He yawns and creeps an eye open. Fred's fear of the dark, he forgot about.

He was met with the eyes of Bingo and a gesture to be quiet. "You wouldn't want to wake him would you?" He purred out the question in a whisper.

He swallowed hard. Is he serious? No, this is Bingo, of course he's serious. "Then, Bingo, go home. I'm tired." He whispers back. Show no weakness Butch, he will go away soon enough. He tries to ignore him. Sometimes it worked.

He felt a hand on his stomach and could hear Bingo sigh "Are you still a baby? Come on, he's asleep. He won't even know." He was pleading.

Can they even do that? He was able to keep Fred from knowing about the fights so he had to admit that they probably could. He still tried to ignore Bingo though. He stays silent. He can feel hands pushing under his shirt. "What, are you scared?" Bingo restored to taunting.

His eyes opened and he glared. "You should know better, Bingo." He rolls his eyes leaning up onto his forearms.

"So, what's your problem? Not as fast as you let on?" Still trying to get a rise out of him.

He just chuckled "What and you are?" This time his own taunt. He waited for the gauntlet, waited for the typical back hand. But Bingo just froze. "Bingo?" He'd never seen Bingo just sit silently. That was until he began to cry. Bingo never... Fred? What the hell was going on? "Fred?" He asked looking into his friends face trying to see the eyes better. It was clearly Fred now, had it been this whole time?

"I'm sorry." Fred bolts but is caught.

He holds Fred close. The tears keep flowing even when he's being rocked and comforted. He waits until Fred is finished. "Fred, I'm not mad." He says softly. He didn't want Fred breaking down again.

Fred sniffles and wipes his eyes looking up to Butch "No?" He asks innocently.

He shakes his head brushing the brown curls from Fred's face. "No, I'm not mad. Just confused."

Fred looks away like he's been caught with his hand in a cookie jar.

"Did Bingo put you up to this?" He asks in a firm tone.

Fred nods without looking at him.

He sighed "What did he tell you this time?" He asks rubbing his eyes.

Fred clams up, shakes his head hiding his face in his hands as though he's embarrassed.

It was a extremely slow process dealing with Fred. It took patience he only had for Fred. Everyone and everything else could deal. "I told you I wasn't mad. So tell me."

His friend takes a breath, shakes his head, then takes a deeper breath. "He keeps saying things I no understand." He becomes angry "He said I was a lot dumb for you, that's why you no love me like you do..." He scrunched his face and pulls on his hair. He was trying to remember something but huffs "What her name is." He looks back up at Butch.

He rolls his eyes "You can't remember her name? You've known her since we were little." He chuckles slightly earning a light punch to the shoulder.

"So? She not important to me." Fred thinks again pulling on his hair but stops and looks saddened again "Is he right?"

He stops and takes a breath "Only half." The look he receives is blank, he takes a breath to explain. "I don't love her, but the things I do with her," he pauses finding it hard to have this conversation "I can't do the things with you that I do with her." He states hoping Fred will understand.

Fred frowns and fiddles his fingers he looks away pouting "But you do things with Bingo you no do with me." He looks up there's answers he's looking for.

"That is true to." He sees Fred look heart broken. "The things I do with Bingo,"

"Stop," he was cut off by Bingo clasping his hands over his mouth. "I swear your fucking stupid." Bingo stood and stretched before turning to look at him.

"What the fuck.." He glares.

"Relax he can't hear us I blocked him." He rolls his eyes, flipping his curls from his face.

Butch breaths "Oh thank God." He rubs his face and head with both hands.

"Did you just, I don't know, forget who you were talking to?" He slams the heel of his palm into Butch's forehead.

He doesn't retaliate, he's too tired but at the same time knows he deserved it. "I didn't know what the hell I was saying." He shakes his head rubbing his eyes again.

"No shit. You were saying some genius shit there."

"Don't give me that. I already know how dumb it was. Damn you're so noisy."

Bingo smirks and crawls back into his lap "I'm cold." He instinctively wraps his arms around Bingo "I was right wasn't I? He is to stupid for you. You can't even tell him properly. You know you can always do me first." Bingo was becoming a broken record.

He groans "Why is that all you ever say?"

He receives a shrug as an answer, then. "Lets just say a lot of bad things would happen if I didn't."

"What do you mean by that?" He's grown so used to the shit Bingo says nothing surprises him anymore.

Bingo stands up and makes his way to the door "I'm going to go home but keep this in mind," he opens the door and looks out it into the darkness of the Deloria apartment "If you don't do something soon, I will find someone who will. I might be small but Fred is the one with problems" Bingo's eyes cut through the darkness as he looks back at Butch. "I wonder who might be up for the task?" He chimes as he walks out. That gutorial laugh echoes through the hall sending a chill up his spine. That night it was pure exhaustion that put him to sleep.

Nine months later

He never gave into Bingo's threat. Knew Bingo wouldn't do something rash and hurt Fred, because he would have heard about. The vault isn't big enough to get away from gossip. Especially not gossip involving Fred. The rest of the year became one giant failed attempt after failed attempt on Bingo's half and a lot of consoling Fred on his.

He was able to keep Fred blissfully ignorant to anything involving adult situations. Bingo on the other hand payed to much attention to it. The two did however begin to start mischief. First in the dinner, they would flick spoonfuls of insta-mash at the girls. Pretend to trip and dump a glass of whatever happened to be drinking on whatever adult they thought needed a bath. They pulled pages out of books and make monstrosities out of the paper and tape. Leaving them on Mr. Brotch's desk. Late at night they would break into the classroom and arrange the desks into a mosaic from the history book. Bingo would provide the muscle, Fred brought the tears for an easy get out free card. It was confusing everyone else but he knew that were lashing out. No matter how smart Bingo claimed to be he was still as much of a child as Fred. It didn't help when they were praised by Wally and Paul and reluctantly himself.

The most dangerous thing they have done was sneaking into the overseers office and then his apartment. Fills the mans hand with some kind of slime they made in class, and causes him to slap himself in the face with it. He had to hold in the laugh when Amata brought Fred to him and explained. The Doc wasn't at home, and she didn't want to leave him to sneak out and do something and get hurt.

When she leaves he releases the laughter. "Are you, kidding me?" He asked while wiping a tear away. "The two of you are fucking brilliant." He sits down pushing his mothers pile of liquor bottles in the floor.

"His face was funny" Fred giggled as he skips over and sat with a thud.

"So which one of you thought of that?" He asks, leaning back.

Fred looks away and fiddles his fingers together "I did." He was acting as if he were trouble.

He snickers that was a first "So, Bingo went and did it?"

Fred nods quickly with a sheepish grin. "It was fun!" He throws his arms up in excitement.

"Where's your jacket?" He asks in a scolding tone.

Fred lowers his head and hands "I not want it to get dirty." He mumbles looking up guilty.

Butch only laughs and pats Fred on the head "Smart thinking nosebleed." He praises.

Fred laughs but it fades when there's a knock to the door. They both know its Fred's father. Fred gives one last smile and goes home with his dad. For the first time in his life, Fred is in deep trouble.

One year later

Everything happened so fast he didn't know what happened until the shit hit the fan. People were dying, people died, and before he could even protest. Fred was gone. Gone into the wastelands above ground. No matter how much he fought how much he pleaded. He was unable to follow. How could she!? How could she send him out there on his own. Why didn't Fred tell him? At least he could have took him with him. It didn't seem to matter. No one seemed to care. His only hope lies within Fred himself. His only prayer was that Bingo could protect him.