Damn, I was tired.
For two weeks I had hauled my exhausted ass around looking for Ian West, and by God, I wanted to go to sleep. Two weeks of tracking useless leads, killing Mirelurks and Molerats, using up ammo that I needed when I ran into that lone Super Mutant - unfortunaley for him, I had a few shotgun shells left.
Finally, the barricaded city of Megaton came into view, and I took a moment to lean on a rock and rest, the dry air blowing my sun-bleached hair into my face - I swatted it away and rubbed some dirt off my cheek.
Dirt was a part of the everyday in the Wastelands, the barren Earth resulting from the Great War - a two hour nuclear extravaganza, blistering and mutilating the planet into this monstrosity 200 years ago. I had been fortunate to grow up thinking the world was okay, living in a shelter Vault up until my late teens - 'til my Dad left. And me charging after him, killing the Vault's leader, mistake after mistake, here I was, still alive. Still kicking and still learning how to shoot, how to listen for the mutated dog packs and salvage junk into necessities.
So was life. And currently, life involved me dragging myself back into Megaton to tell Lucy West her brother, who had killed her parents, had ran off with a bunch of freaks calling themselves "Vampires" - at least I had convinced him to go back to his home community, to Arefu. Maybe Lucy could keep him from eating anyone else, the weirdo.
Lucas Simms, the town's sheriff, tipped his hat to me as I entered - and shot me the evil eye. The city was built around a nuclear warhead, not currently dangerous, and it sat square in the middle of the city in its on little puddle of irradiated water - Simms wanted me to disarm the thing, and I had agreed since he offered money, I just...hadn't figured out how I was gonna' do it yet. All in good time, right?
The city wasn't very large, constructed in a circle to keep out Raiders and Mutants and all the like, houses stacked on top of one another and connected via rickety ramps. My eyes found Moriarty's Saloon perched near the top, and with a sigh I stepped on to a shaky metal plank and began the tiring, steep walk up and up and up.
"Well, well, well, look who's back - the little urban hero, isn't that what they're calling you these days? Our savior? Protector? I mean, I'm surprised a halo isn't floating over that saintly head."
Jericho, an ex-Raider turned town protector, greeted me from the shade of his home, a dying cigarette on his lips, nestled in a relaxed smirk. It seemed he was always waiting when I showed up, never busy - never too busy to throw some sarcasm and insults around, anyway. But today, I didn't feel like bickering with the hard ass, I was too tired. A bed at Moriarty's sounded wonderful, a bed preferably without the whore Nova in it, and Lucy West would more than likely be there drinking, as well.
"Not today, Jericho. I don't have the patience nor time for your shit," I growled, continuing right past him - he didn't seem to take the hint as I heard him push off the wall he'd been leaning against and stroll after me, the clank of his gear not exactly stealthy.
"You were gone a long time."
"Sure was." I clipped back, not slowing down - he speed up beside me, keeping pace, glancing around for other people.
"Run into any trouble?" he asked, fiddling with a pistol for a moment before shoving it back in its holster.
Sigh. Grabbing his arm, I shoved him to the right and onto another ramp, pushing him right along 'til we were concealed in the shadow who knows who's house, away from eyes. It's the only way he talked straight to me, some ego-fueled fear the others would think him different if they saw him acting generally concerned over someone.
"Go ahead, spit it out. Can tell you got somethin' to say." I remarked tiredly, easing my back against the wall of the shack, Jericho standing in front of me - he looked suddenly tense, agitated.
While I had developed quite the nice set of reflexes on the dead plains of the Wastelands, even I couldn't dodge the hand that latched around my chin near-painfully, his other hand pinning my right wrist - granted I still hand one hand free, but there's no way I should shoot left-handed, not yet anyway.
"Next time you decide to go skipping off into that death trap of a world, you let me know, alright? I can't be goin' to bed every night prayin' to whoever's listenin' that you ain't died yet - mauled by dogs, tortured by Mutants, raped by Raiders. I can't - I won't." he rumbled in my ear, his unshaven cheek scraping against mine. Gulping, and momentarily weakened by how close he was, I dug deep down for that little spark of information I had learned before I left - the reason I left so quickly.
Anger flared up inside me and I jerked away from his face, my eyes blazing. "Oh yeah? I hacked Moriarty's computer last time I was here, he has some interesting stuff on there - what's this about you and Jenny Stahl, hm? Got a little lonely, saw some hips and legs, didn't care if she said no, huh? You sick bastard!"
Jericho visibly paled, but he didn't let me go, just sighed in a loud whoosh of air and laid his head on my shoulder, eyes closed - I didn't have the heart to shake him off. Which is sad and weak of me, but it's true.
"That...was a mistake. Drinkin' and fightin', riles a man up. I won't apologize, she was just there all of a sudden, and I kinda', just...look, whatever, alright? Like I said, it was a mistake, and not entirely mine alone! Maybe you shoulda' asked Jenny herself before you started bitchin' at me!" he spat back, jerking his head off my shoulder, but not letting me go.
I don't know if I believed him, though I know that I cared - what he did, it was wrong. Jenny agreeing or not. But I had seen far worse in this world: a child ripped apart by Mirelurks, Mutants slaughtering entire caravans, Ghouls hunted down and burned alive. A few of things I had watched, and done nothing. Am I any person to judge? Sitting in my pocket was a list of men the Ghoul Crowley has asked me to kill for a price - like I was a saint, not matter what people thought. I might not have killed them, yet - hell, I may never do it. But I still took the list, didn't I? At the mention of caps.
Jericho's hand moved then, the one around my chin dropping to my neck - not threatening, just holding.
"You're the only person on this God forsaken planet that I care what happens to - I'm just askin' you don't go out there and die without letting me know, hm? Who knows, I might actually miss your bitchin' every time you come into town."
I couldn't argue or say no, and just let the rough, ex-Raider kiss me, my lips an eager and receiving target for his. I'll admit - I liked Jericho. He kept me on my toes, didn't try to act sweet and optimistic to make me feel better, just let me have it. That's precisely what I needed right now, while I traveled from dangerous point A to worse-off point B in search of my Dad, who I wasn't entirely sure I'd actually find. Seemed like everyone I ran across had just seen him, just watched him leave - I never got there in time. Story of my life.
After a moment, a while, an eternity, I lightly pushed him off, a small smile on his face. I knew that look - touching moment over.
"Here for five minutes and you can't even keep your hands off me - can't be great for your reputation, oh great hero!" he laughed, raking a hand through my messy hair, causing it all to fall in tangles around my face.
"Oh, haha, you're just so funny, jackass." I hissed, throwing my hair back into a messy ponytail and rocking back onto my feet, pushing past the chuckling Jericho who fell into step behind me.
"Where ya' headed, by the way?" he asked, slinging a muscled arm around my shoulders, a satisfied grin on his face. Guess I could expect his gloating for a while, now. Wonderful.
"Moriarty's."
"To sleep? Please, Nova doesn't let anyone "sleep" there, beds are for entirely different reasons. You know you're welcome at my place anytime - though I can't promise you'd get much sleep there, either," he practically purred in reply, his lips hot on my ear - the invite was tempting. But not tonight, I had...more important things to do.
"Some other time, Jericho." I answered, ducking out of his arm and opening the door to Moriarty's, having finally arrived. Jericho pouted.
"Shit, well, why the hell not?" he grumbled, making me pause in the door way.
I sighed and stuck my head back outside, "I need to tell Lucy West that I found her brother who's turned cannibal and killed their parents himself - that good enough?"
He didn't say anything else as I continued inside and closed the door, the ex-Raider sighing and sinking down into one of Moriarty's junky outside tables. Little Vault Dweller prances into town for five minutes, and he's already all for throwing her over his shoulder and taking her to his house, if he had to.
Lighting up another smoke, he propped his feet up, prepared to wait. He'd never admit it, to anyone for anything, but she was worth the wait.