"October 23rd, 2077 was the greatest day of my life… I was with my wife and children at home, I was cooking breakfast while they watched cartoons on TV… We all knew it was going to happen. Not the kids, but my wife and I, our neighbors, we all knew that this was coming. It was like a dull headache, always gently pounding in the back of your mind. My youngest kid was only three years old, what I wouldn't have done to protect all of them. How do you explain to a kid why we need to keep five suitcases at the door? Why do we need to take them in the car everywhere we go? Every house had a bomb shelter or an emergency ration kit. Every day people would be going out onto the range. Everybody had a gas mask, a storeroom full of food, and none of it mattered.

"I was cooking when I could hear screaming coming from down the street, then another scream, and another. There was so much yelling, people were bolting out of their homes and going for their cars. I got in the car with the kids and my wife, Elizabeth, and we started to drive. We lived in Springvale, it should have been a twenty-minute drive, but the traffic was all snarled up. People were dragging other people out of their cars, a lot of people died on the highway. Looting, fighting, the desperation was barbaric. The radio was squawking about the end of the world, New York was gone, D.C was next, there was no way it wouldn't be annihilated. And I sat there… thinking… how could I just sit content, living in the capital of a country on the brink of nuclear war? Why didn't I just take them into the country? Why didn't I-

"We ended up just ditching the car… the car and our things. I ran with my three-year-old… Elizabeth had the other boys. We made it to the Vault, and they were just taking in whoever they could. We had our places, our papers in my hands. I shoved my way through the crowd… people were biting… clawing… I heard more guns go off. I shoved my wife and kids in front of me, I just wrangled them to the front of the line. We got in and I heard this tremendous roar, like a car getting crushed. I turned around as we got into an elevator and I saw this thick, heavy door sliding into place. People kept clawing… I saw people with their- The Overseer greeted us, hell he looked about as rough as the rest of us, but he had a cool head. I remember he put his hand on my shoulder and told me that I did good, that all my family was with me. My son was in my arms still, he had a cut on his head and he was crying, but he was alright. Even a hundred feet below I could feel the explosions. I knew the world was ending, it was finally being ripped apart for its sins. All the war, all the greed, the famine, the… the filth!... It felt like I was born again. The Overseer told us that we were chosen, we had made it to the very end. We would be the ones who would survive this horrible day… and we would make it better. He was going to make it better. I looked into his eyes and I knew, that's my guy. Whatever he wants, I'm on it. We owe everything to our Overseer, everything. And we should all be grateful for all the things he does for us… all the sacrifices he makes for us. God bless him, and God bless what is left of our America."

The man talking in the film suddenly disappeared and as the film reel sputtered to a stop, Mr. Brotch turned on the lights. Winter finished answering her final question and looked up in time to see her teacher address his student, most of whom were lifting their heads from their desks and looking around the room in confusion. Winter would have done the same if she didn't desperately need to get a good grade on this test to pass her final testing period.

"Alright, this concludes our scheduled programming. Let's all take a moment to reflect on the pain of the past and appreciate the safety of our present. All of you behave yourselves. Your final exam is tomorrow so I want you all with a clear head, is that clear?"

All Mr Brotch got was a sputter of grunts and mumblings as the group of teenagers stood up. Susie passed her desk and whispered something about meeting her at Winter's house as Winter stood up and collected her things. Out of the twelve kids who were in their final testing class, Winter was the last of three to hand in the completed test. The grade for this test was worth almost nothing, but she needed every mark.

"Hey, Winter," he greeted, "What's up?"

"Hey, Brotch, thanks again for giving me that extension," she awkwardly scratched behind the back of her head before handing him her typed report along with the test.

"What was your assigned topic again?"

"I got the Battle of Anchorage."

"Alright, I look forward to reading it and comparing the writing style to Amata's."

"I actually did it this time," she chuckled, "Burrow's honor."

"Alright, kid, stay out of trouble, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Thanks, Brotch, I'll see you soon."

Winter zipped up her backpack and left the classroom. Her classmates had already filed out to go to their separate parties. The hallways still had some Christmas decorations up, but New Years was in full swing. She walked past the cafeteria, and even at midday the faint smell of liquor singed her nose. Her Dad was probably finishing off business at the clinic, but there was no way he'd be staying in for the festivities.

Susie was pacing back and forth a few feet away from the door. She looked anxiously back over her shoulder, which Winter was facing anyways. Her ginger hair was tied back in a loose bun and her jumpsuit wasn't pressed. Nobody was too bothered to go to school today. The only thing keeping people in front of the projector was the Overseer's promise of a heavy fine for those that didn't.

"Surprised you bothered to get dressed this morning," Susie joked, her head still on a swivel as she approached the front door to Winter's apartment.

"God forbid you're accidentally seen with me," she muttered and began typing in the password to open the door.

"Yeah well, if you wanna fight my brother then go ahead."

"Your brother fights dirty."

"And you always insist on fighting clean."

"I try to," Winter stepped through and called into the living room, "Dad? You home?"

She didn't get a response. She crossed the living room and down the hall to check his room. The door was open and it was empty. On his bed, her Dad had discarded his doctor's coat and his flask.

"I have booze," she announced as she walked back into the living room. Susie had closed the curtains and quickly approached her.

"Nuh uh," she hoisted the flask above her head, well out of Susie's grip, "Say thank you."

Susie's rolled her eyes before getting on the tips of her toes to give her a quick kiss.

"Cold as ice," Winter hissed playfully. She walked to the kitchen and got two glasses from the kitchen.

"Okay, one shot, then we study."

"Yeah, that's why you closed all the curtains and locked the door behind you. So we could study."

"Well if my Dad walks by…"

"…Yeah, that's fair. Alright… one shot, then we'll get to work."

/

"I have to go."

Winter tensed slightly, her shoulders hitching up slightly and her eyebrows furrowing into a frown. Warm and soft fingers brushed across her cheek, lips pressing against the trail they took.

"Winter?"

Winter opened one eye and peered at her, pretending not to have heard the first part. Susie smiled, moving her fingers to play with a few black locks of Winter's hair to try and fix the mess she had made of it, "I have to go, it's midnight."

"So?" she yawned. She sat up and leaned over to turn on her bedside lamp, accidentally knocking off a history book in the process.

"So my parents will be coming home," she giggled when Winter tried to grab her by her waist, "I need to go," she repeated again.

"Who goes home at midnight? My Dad won't be home until at least three," Winter protested before playfully nipping her ear, "We have plenty of time."

"Don't tempt me or I'll get caught!" she laughed, getting out of bed and picking her jumpsuit up off the floor, "I almost got caught last night, and two weeks before that, I can't risk staying late again. We can hang out not tomorrow night but the next night, we'll watch a movie in the movie room."

"But that's two days from now," Winter whined. She slumped herself down and lay on her back with her head hanging off the bed.

"I need to study, and so should you, as a matter of fact," Susie added, pointing a bobby pin at Winter before putting it in a lock of red hair, "What do you have left?"

"History final and the G.O.A.T."

"Get Amata to help you with history. God knows you need it."

"History is easy."

"Uh huh," Susie hummed, unconvinced as she sat down to put on her boots, "Bet Brotch is looking forward to grading your one-word responses."

"Once upon a time, America and China dropped bombs on each other so now Winter and Susie must be born and raised in an underground Vault so we don't die outside. Boom. Nobody cares, everybody knows, get this out of the way so we can move on with shit that's actually important."

"A+," Susie sighed, checking the time on her watch and looking down at her, "Want to walk me home?"

"I thought we were being all super secretive?" Winter yawned.

Susie rolled her eyes and quickly pecked Winter's lips, "Goodnight, and happy new year. I'll see you on Saturday."

"Mmhmm," Winter hummed. She heard Susie leave the apartment and the metal door hissing shut and locking behind her. Winter rolled over to go back to sleep, almost drifting off when the intercom above her head began to crackle.

"Attention," the Overseer's voice interrupted, Winter rolling onto her back so she could better hear. Something nudged at her back, something cold and metallic. She reached underneath her and gently gripped on one of Susie's rings. She smiled at it and slipped it on her thumb for safekeeping while she listened to the Overseer drone on, "All Vault residents are hereby ordered to return to their residences immediately, any resident who is caught outside of their apartments after half past the hour will be fined fifteen dollars. This is the Overseer, signing off and wishing you a happy 2274 in Vault 101."

It wasn't long after that when Winter heard her father stumble home and disappear into his bedroom. After some time had passed, Winter got up out of bed and crept down the hallway to the living room. Her Dad had left his flask on the kitchen bench. She popped the cap open and wiped the mouthpiece with her shirt, then took a quick sip of whiskey. She scrunched her eyes tight and grunted at the burn, but it was a burn that she'd gotten somewhat used to. She drank the whiskey until the flask was almost empty, which was only a few mouthfuls. The idea in Winter's slightly fogged head was that her father, like most adults in the Vault, would be too drunk to remember how much alcohol was in left in their flasks when they went to bed, and to simply assume that they had drunk however much wasn't in the flask when they woke up that morning.

That did end up being the case, as when Winter woke up the next morning with a mild headache, her Dad didn't mention a word of it to her at breakfast.

"Good morning," he chuckled, watching Winter trudge into the living room and into the kitchen, still half asleep.

"Morning," she grumbled, reaching into the fridge and getting some cold water, "Where's the milk?"

"Ran out yesterday when I had to make coffee, I'm sorry."

Winter shrugged and reached into the cabinet to grab some cereal, "How was last night?"

"Boring and not over nearly fast enough," James sighed, frowning at a small pile of charts.

"What? You didn't try and kiss Beatrice again?"

"Shut your mouth. How was study group?"

"Fine," Winter shrugged again.

"Do you remember what I told you about Stanley?"

"What about him?"

"His heart problems?"

"Yeah, I remember something about it. Why?"

"Do you remember how many hours he said he was working?"

"Around seventy a week, why?" Winter frowned, turning on the tap and pouring water on the cereal.

"I can't read my own writing, I'm sure he said seventy hours as well, but I'll have to- Winter!"

"Mmf?"

"Are you that much of a goddamn pig?"

"What?" she frowned.

"You do not eat cereal with water, Jesus Christ you're sixteen fucking years old, are you that lazy that you can't walk five minutes to the canteen and get a ration of powdered milk?!"

Winter had her back turned to her father, leaning over to look at some history notes while mouthing the words he was saying in a mocking tone, "Food is food. Tastes like cardboard anyways."

She heard him sigh and go back to reading. Winter cleared her throat and frowned, rubbing at her throat.

"You okay?" James asked.

"Sore throat," she explained.

James got up and dug his flashlight out of his pocket. He crossed the room before grabbing Winter's spoon with the other hand, "Let me see."

"Dad, it's fine-"

"Open, for the love of God," James chuckled in exasperation, "Nobody in this Vault complains more than you do when they get sick, and I'd rather save everyone the annoyance. Open."

Winter sighed and opened her mouth, James peering inside.

"Tonsillitis," James concluded instantly, "It's going around. Your friend Susie Mack came in yesterday with it."

Winter's eyes widened, and James bopped her on the forehead with the spoon, "Work on your poker face."

"I-"

"I don't care what you and Susie do during your free time, Winter," James said, "But for God's sake, try not to let her brother or father find out."

"Okay," Winter nodded sheepishly.

"I have to go to work, I'll bring you some medicine tonight with dinner. In return," he pointed his light at her, "I want you to park yourself down here and study. Have Amata over if you want, she might be able to save your grades."

"Yes, father," Winter mumbled with a bow.

"Don't be a smartass," James shook his head, "God knows I have to deal with enough of these people's shit already."

Winter stuck her tongue out at him when he turned his back to her, but nonetheless, she went into her bedroom and grabbed her backpack. Her head was still heavy and memories of last night made studying the absolute last thing she felt like doing. She walked over to the living room and paged Amata's room, "Hey 'Mata, you awake?"

"Didn't think you'd be awake yet," she answered with a little smugness to her voice.

"You wanna come over and study?"

"Yeah, I'll be over in a few minutes. Want me to bring anything?"

"Yeah, can you bring some milk?"

"Ha!" Amata laughed, walking in with a bag full of books over her shoulder and some rationed powder milk in her hands, "You really are studying."

"Hey," Winter smiled, "That was quick."

"Dad's holding an important security meeting, wanted me scarce," she waved the question off, dumping the bag onto the table and opening a book, "What're you studying?"

Winter tapped her pen against the pages and shrugged, "Little bit of everything, I guess. I think I know most of what I need to."

Amata didn't look too convinced while Winter tilted her head to rub her sore neck. When she looked back at Amata, she was grinning and clearly trying to hold back laughter.

"What?" Winter frowned.

"Nothing."

"What?" she repeated, looking down at herself to see if anything was wrong, Amata finally giving in, "You have a hickey on your neck."

"Do not," Winter said, calling Amata's bluff, "Why would I have a hickey?"

"You tell me," Amata giggled, "on your shoulder, lucky your shirt covers it, or your Dad would have gone nuts."

Winter rolled her eyes and pretended to humor her by looking at it in the mirror in the bathroom. Sure enough, Susie had left behind a red mark on her shoulder. Probably a bite? Winter couldn't remember.

"Who was it?" Amata demanded, flipping the book shut and shoving it aside when Winter came back.

"Ease off…" Winter laughed awkwardly while adjusting the hole of her shirt to properly cover it, "Go back to studying."

"Nuh uh. Who? Kristy? Alice? Mary? Georgie? Sam?"

"… Susie."

"I knew it!"

"Here we go," Winter muttered under her breath.

"I knew that you two had something together!" Amata yelled.

"Mmhmm," Winter sighed, running her fingers through her hair again. It needed cutting. Again. Winter hated it going below her ears. She always liked having it short. It was longer when she was a kid, but Butch kept yanking at it whenever they fought, so she kept it religiously trimmed from then on. It looked scruffy, her Dad and teachers often comparing it to a mop on a kid's head, but no matter how many passive aggressive remarks Dad made, she liked her hair just the way it was.

Amata smirked and settled herself down again, "So when are you seeing her next?"

"Amata…"

"I know, I know," she said in a hushed tone, "But come on, at least be a little excited."

"I am, but not… you know… freaking out like you are."

Amata laughed and shrugged her shoulders, "If we both know everything about the exam… I was wondering if you could do something for me…"

"Uh huh… What've you done?"

"Butch did it," Amata scowled, "He stole my notebook."

"Butch stole your notebook. Why? God knows he won't use it."

"I don't know, for fun, I guess. I need you to pick the lock for me."

Winter groaned at the work ahead. Each door in Vault 101 was designed for a resident's safety and privacy in mind, which meant that there was a keypad on each residential door that required a passcode to get through. The DeLoria's, not exactly the most private family living in the facility, had the passcode set to DeLoria, which on a number pad was 3356148. However, when Butch set up the code, he mixed up the numbers, and input one of the numbers incorrectly.

Manually changing the password on a Vault-Tec door was a huge pain in the ass if you didn't know the original password, and no Vault-Tec engineer had neither the time nor the patience to get around to fixing the lock and having to put up with Butch and his mother screaming at each other. So, Butch took to the panel with a screwdriver, pried the console off, and got about figuring out how to hotwire the door open. This amazed anybody in the Vault who knew Butch, who wasn't exactly known for his engineering ability... or common sense. Engineers took one look at the door and offered Butch a chance at becoming an apprentice, but Butch quickly blew it by shorting out the entire grid while trying to short the power out in Winter's room.

Winter, on the other hand, obsessed over anything involving Vault-Tec engineering and often attempted to modify the electrics in her home appliances, including modifying the Vault-Tec doors to give a shock to the person, namely a person named Butch, who tried to break into the apartment by inputting the incorrect code.

A Vault-Tec vault was promised to your standard 2070's American household as the ideal escape from a nuclear holocaust. Winter found the original advertising while rummaging through the movie room film reels to find something she hadn't seen yet. It proudly promised that any survivor (who paid out the nose for it) would have a "brighter future… underground."

Whoever designed this "brighter future" deserved to be hit across the face with the reel the film got developed on. Winter stood at five feet seven inches tall. She was tallish for her age, but not taller than most male adults, and even she could easily jump up and smack the Vault's stainless steel ceiling with both palms. Her preschool teacher, Oliver Phillips, a poor soul at six feet nine inches tall, developed severe back problems from having to walk while hunched over. He was often at Winter's Dad's office for pain medication, and now at 56 he was a sad, shy hunchback very slowly shuffling the halls. Butch coined the term "crypt keeper" which unfortunately caught on with his students until the Overseer made it illegal to say the name.

The hallways were tight too, around ten feet wide, which was prone to congestion during busy times and often made Winter feel claustrophobic. However, it did benefit her being skinny and in good shape, because now could wriggle her way through a small crowd to make it to a late class. The larger residents often struggled to find their way through small openings but made up for it with more weight to throw around. During rush hour, the hallways became like a mosh pit, and you had to be careful you didn't tread on a kid as you struggled to make your way home. The lights made your eyes hurt, it was always a little too cold in the public hallways, the ventilation was terrible and made said hallways smell like someone had farted, even when no one else was there, and the food tasted like cardboard.

Occasionally some of the chickens in the lowest section of the Vault could be served up for dinner, the same with eggs, but otherwise, all the food came from the canned goods Vault-Tec had stored two hundred years ago. The Overseer told anyone who complained that they should be grateful, that their ancestors had been wise enough to make it here, and while the food would not be classified as gourmet like in some of the books Winter and Amata read from the library, it was definitely in plentiful rationing.

"Where's Butch now?" Winter asked Amata as they walked.

"He'd be in the cafeteria with his boys," Amata guessed. Her suspicions were confirmed as they walked past it. Clad in a leather jacket with hair coated with grease, the Tunnel Snakes sat in a group on a table in deep discussion.

"What're they talking about?" Amata wondered as they rounded the corner to the DeLoria apartment.

"Probably gonna tack Mr. Brotch's chair tomorrow and trying to figure out who'll take the fall," Winter figured. She used to worry about Butch and his friends, but after nights like the last, she couldn't make herself worry about things so small. They approached the apartment and Winter reached forward to ring the doorbell.

"What are you doing?" Amata gasped, jerking forward and gripping her by the wrist.

"Ringing the doorbell. What happens if Butch's mom is home?"

"Oh," Amata let go of her wrist and raised her nodded her head in agreement, "Alright."

Winter rang the doorbell and waited. She rung three more times after the first didn't bring anyone to them. She glanced left and right to make sure nobody was watching before quickly jamming the console case with her screwdriver and popping it open. The red and green wires needed to connect, but they were beginning to wear away and might need replacing soon or else the door wouldn't open at all. She quickly connected the wires and the door hissed open. Amata and herself quickly jumped in and shut the door behind them, also shutting the blinds that overlooked the public hallway. Winter found Butch's room easily enough and managed to short circuit his door without having to guess the password. The door hissed open and she found the book, hidden under the bed beside one of Winter's old baseballs and his mother's flask.

"Butchy?" Butch's mother mumbled from across the hallway, "Butchy make me something to drink."

Winter froze. Butch's mother called for him again, this time louder and more irritable. Winter shifted her feet very carefully towards the door and spotted Amata hiding behind the couch in the living room, frantically shaking her head. Winter doubled back and scurried under the bed, hiding behind a few boxes Butch kept stashed under there. She heard the door open and a woman stumble in.

"Goddamn lazy bastard," she grumbled, turning around and shutting the door behind her. Winter didn't move until she was sure Butch's mom had left, then crawled back out of the bed and looked at Amata again.

Amata put a finger to her lips, telling Winter to be quiet, then gestured with her other hand for her to come forward. Winter hotwired the door again. The door made a loud, shrill hiss as it rolled open.

"Butch!" his mom barked, her feet slapping against the metal floor as she hoisted herself up out of bed, "Get your worthless ass into the kitchen and make me a drink!"

But Winter was gone well before Butch's mother could wobble into the living room. The resident side of the front door, the one facing inwards, didn't require a password to open, only to flip a switch. Winter and Amata both sprinted across the main Vault hallways until they had turned at least three corners, then slowed down to a walk.

"Thanks, Winter," Amata sighed while flipping through the notes in the book, "He did some damage but not enough for me to fail anything."

"Wasn't a chore, though Butch's bed fucking reeks," Winter joked while she brushed some dust off of her arms and front.

"You've got some on your back, here," Amata pointed out, brushing the dirt off of the older girl's back and sending a snowfall of dust onto the otherwise clean floor, "What do you want to do now?"

Winter shrugged carelessly, "You want to go to the gym?"

"Ah, no," Amata laughed, "Is Jack still staying at your house?"

"That is the worst code for whiskey ever," Winter smirked, "And no, I drank it all last night."

"Geez, you had a good night," Amata sighed, "All I did was listen to my dad issue a curfew and then watch him grump around the house complaining about how many of us would be hungover the next day. I think he wants to extend the working week as well."

"When you become Overseer can you give us twenty-hour work weeks?"

"Don't," Amata groaned, "I don't want to think about it."

"Yeah, who knows, you might become a tattoo artist after the G.O.A.T tomorrow."

Amata sighed and looked at the floor, "It's going to suck. He'll rig it so I get into management."

"I keep telling you, just say you don't want it. Your Dad'll get over it."

"He wants to hand the keys off to someone he trusts."

"He'll give it to Allen Mack if you don't take it."

"Allen Mack?" Amata frowned at her, stopping walking and looking at her, "Susie's dad. You want Susie's dad to become the next Overseer, and name Wally Mack, Butch's best friend, as his successor? Are you that desperate to be working as a garbage burner and keep getting your ass kicked?"

"The Mack dynasty," Winter shuddered, "Bad idea."

Winter and Amata both ended up going back to Winter's apartment. They studied mostly in silence, listening to the Vault radio and talking while Winter toyed with fixing the sticky dial on her alarm clock. While they were busy with making lunch, Winter was only barely paying attention to an argument moving down the hall. Only when the doorbell rang did Winter realize the familiar silhouette of leather jackets and tall, badly greased up hair leering into the windows.

"Winter Daniels!" Wally Mack shouted, "Get your fucking ass out here."

"Shit…" Winter sighed.

"Call security," Amata ordered, pointing at the emergency console button beside Winter, just above the kitchen tap.

"Yeah, get Susie's dad in the mix, that'll be sweet," Winter sighed, standing up and going to the window, "What's up, Wally?"

As per usual, Wally was standing behind Butch. Never at the front, always partially hidden by his leader. Butch had a bad habit of standing like a drunk idiot, even when stone cold sober. His feet were spread a few inches too far apart to make an intimidating stance look goofy. It was so wide, sometimes he would lose balance and have to catch himself, even while standing completely still. His hair had too much gel, and his folded arms made his jacket stick up and show off a hairy treasure trail that made both Amata and Winter turn their noses up in disgust. If Winter hadn't spent the majority of her childhood trading words and blows with Butch, he would look about as intimidating as a disheveled toddler.

"Open the door," Butch said calmly.

"Why? What's up?"

Wally bared his teeth, "You know damn well what's wrong you fucking-"

"Wally!" Butch almost squealed in delight, "I'm doing the talking, 'kay? You said I could do all the talking."

Wally went quiet. His almighty leader had spoken.

"Now, we can make this quick or we can prolong this, either way, it's fun for me. Guess what Wally found in his sister's diary this morning?"

Winter shrugged, "You wanna dance around the point all day, Butchy?"

"Seems like you've been gallivantin' around with our lovely lady Susie."

"Do you know what gallivanting means, Butch?" Winter frowned.

"It means you've been fucking her, and none of us here really can say that we appreciate it."

"Seems like something the healthy individual wouldn't consider their business, Butch. I'm sorry she turned you down in sixth grade, but we don't have to make this personal."

Butch bared his teeth, "Don't piss this around. Are you coming out or not?"

Winter glanced at Wally, almost flinching at the pure hatred in his eyes. He even had a weird little vein bulging out of his neck, "Yeah… maybe no…"

"You fucked her!" Wally screeched, "Open this fucking door, right fucking now!"

"Fuck you!" Winter shouted, "Susie's my age, we both agreed to it, none of us did anything wrong. You want your sister to be happy, Wally? I like her, I'll look after her and she'll look after me, we'll both make each other happy. Come on, man, you've known me since we were toddlers, for God's sake. We might hate each other but when have I ever really truly screwed you over or ripped you off?"

"Last night, when you fucked my sister!" he spat, "Don't talk about any kind of friendship now, Daniels. Don't hide behind your goddamned walls, come out and settle this."

"Winter…" Amata trailed off behind her, "Call security…"

"Listen, we know the password, Susie told us. You know, Wally, so Susie can slip in here during the night?" Butch was bouncing on the soles of his feet as he spoke.

Winter suddenly realized that Susie wasn't with them. If Susie wasn't with them… she would more than likely be at home… with Susie's Dad, who most likely already knew about this and wouldn't be too happy with Susie either, "Where is Susie?" she asked.

"Susie isn't your concern right now," Butch shook his head, "Don't even think about her."

"Wally, if you so much as fucking pinched her. I will fucking break your nose," Winter growled.

"You did far fucking worse to her than anything I ever did."

"I didn't want this," Winter protested, "I didn't do it to mess with you Wally, you shouldn't have taken it fucking personally."

"And you still haven't learned, you don't fuck with the Tunnel Snakes," Butch grinned, then turned to Wally while reading off a sheet of paper, "The code's 787489."

"480, not 489," Winter corrected, watching Wally input the code. 480 was the wrong sequence, and Wally screamed as the volts ran through his body.

"Amata hit the button for security," Winter sighed as Wally tried the code again, "This is gonna suck."

The door barely hissed halfway open before Wally managed to worm his way through, charging and lunging at Winter with both hands zeroing in for her neck.