She watches him.
Trapped in her own mind, she can only watch in silence, following him around the wasteland. Didn't he do this to her? She can't remember.
Her head is so full of voices now. Outraged, dissident, carefree, ignorant, hateful, frightened. She's learned to listen to them, grating like a knife over metal.
She watches him, her throat closed. She'll never speak again, she'll never cry out for her sons. She watched them, too, taken from her, their hands reaching for her. She convulses.
The others don't go near her. They know not to. She'd rip them apart with bare hands, if she could. They watch. The eyes are on her, stuck to her skin. She thrashes, her body throws itself across the cage.
New voices. Not her own. Some who want her, grab her with invisible hands, yank on the necklace around her neck. She shrieks in her mind, bites with her teeth. The voices slam her to the ground. She can't trust her eyes, they lie. The bull lows at her, she hears it but can't see it. Where are her children?
The fur around his neck, she likes it. Reminds her of her mama's fur coat. She watches it with glittering eyes. The wind ruffles her hair. She sees it across the desert, taking away the sons fom the mamas.
He is talking to the furs, she thinks he is offering her to the furs, trading. She knows this is wrong, but she can't cry out to tell them. The voices are making a ruckus in her head, she can't think.
The wind blows away. He takes her to a different cage. The bars are not in her mind, now. She can feel them like the boys when they hug her, firm against her. Where were the boys? Dinner was ready ten minutes ago.
Gray faces in the distance. She sees that the necklace is gone. It's a lie, she can still feel it around her neck, almost too tight to breathe. She can't speak to the wind, tell him she's not really free. She can only watch.
Someone is with her in the cage. She can hear the crying, smell the wet tears. It angers her. Her tears are gone. He stole them! He did, and he's not giving them back, mama!
Fingernails scrape and she tastes the tears. No, not hers, too much. They're not red, but something clear, like river water. She's terrified. Take the red tears away.
Gray faces move closer, she's climbing the bars. Someone is gone. She can feel cold skin when she tries to touch.
Other voices. She tastes dirt in her mouth, thrown to the ground again. He puts the necklace around her neck again, and she is happy, he remembered the day they met.
Her hands are soiled. She wipes off the dirt, but it isn't dirt. Those boys! She sent them for water over an hour ago.
The furs are there, shining in the sun like mama's hair when she brushed it out. Charles would have loved her, then. And mama would let him.
She can't see the wind. He's blown away again, off to find more babies for mama. He works so hard for mama.
It is dark. She wakes in a cage. She can taste the air like a snake. Blood.
The voices screech in pain. A monster? No, just her own self, digging nails into her thigh. The feeling returns to her hands. She pulls her hand from her leg.
She is in a cage. It's wood, she feels the planks. She touches a corner, pries at the seams. Someone's nailed it shut. She pushes. The pain in her leg throbs with her heartbeat. She pushes, and the box explodes out from her strength.
Where is she? She sees a cave. There is a creature here, she pays it no mind. It hisses at her, she walks away. Lucidity comes crawling up to her, like a bad dog.
She is in a cave, with monsters. She fights them, feeling their teeth on her, the sick coming up like a flood. She remembers what it is like to be normal, to fear this pain. She convulses again and, this time, the voices steady her.
A hand on hers, she cuts a path. Flesh yields to me, beware all creatures who bleed. I am the universe, the darkness. She spins like a vertibird through the monsters.
I live in the shadow, I am the night, the thing you see in your nightmares. I do not feel, I do not think, I do not stop.
She pushes it away. How did he get in her head? She doesn't remember when she heard him talk before.
She step into the light above. The monsters are dead, she thinks they are. She still feels the pain in her leg. She knows it's real, but her head feels for her, like her eyes that don't see what isn't trustworthy.
Hot wind. He is angry. She doesn't care, he's not actually there. Her hands gather up rope, hanging it to dry on the yucca. Charles would make use of it, but she doesn't want anything to do with it. Let him come and get it.
She walks into the desert. There is little here. She wants to find the furs, get them back for mama. Where did he go?
There is hunger now, she can feel a pit in her stomach. She needs to find the wind. It hasn't blown since she left the cave. What? What cave? She stops.
A strip of black on the wasteland floor. She is confused, sits down and stares at her hands. Someone is moving them, brandishing a knife. She is covered in blood.
Those naughty boys, they've been gone half the day. She needs them to bring back food. Her stomach is starting to hurt. But, this isn't the house. Where is she?
She sees signs, lights. She knows she should stay away from the people in towns. The others never went near her, she was too dangerous. Her leg is wet, and she limps back into the desert. She must have food. But where can she get it?
Kinder, gentler. She smiles. Her voices, patting her hand, leading her to a place she knows is good. She feels the sunlight off her shoulders, sees a door.
Vault.
No, she wont go. No more cages, no more vaults. Her eyes aren't tricking her, she knows, she just wants out. Don't put me in another box!
Hanging laundry. She hated that, always wanted for someone else to do it. She sighs. The clothespins never stay put, and the stains never come out once they're set. She gets frustrated, kicks the clothes-basket. Those boys, again! They've left a basketball in the laundry. If only they were back from the sleepover, all weekend long.
She eats food from the fridge. She can't remember how long to cook a roast, but that doesn't matter. There's plenty of food. She feeds the dogs. Charles got them for mama, but mama doesn't like them much. She does. She wants them to stay, rolls with them on the floor, licking her face. Makes mama nervous.
It's so quiet in the vault, he can hear the voices so clearly. She listens, sitting in the kitchen. The dogs are whining. Someone is coming.
She can't be caught like this. She hasn't put the laundry out. Mama will be angry. Charles might take away the dogs. She thinks she drank the last Nuka-Cola, too. It wasn't hers to drink.
She hides. Voices are angry. She shouldn't have to hide. Her leg hurts. He comes back, singing harbinger of death. The song is powerful. She can't help but join in harmony.
The knife is dull, cuts like a bad burn. Goes into sun-ripened skin, she laughs, oh the look on their faces!
Fire- she falls. Hides again. The singing dies away. Other voices, crying, yelling, in pain. She doesn't know what's going on.
But she's in pain, and the door is open. The dogs are quiet now. She cries for them, but she can't stay. If they find her, she'll die, she's sure of it. He forced her hand, she didn't want to hurt him.
She pulls metal from her skin. Must have stepped on a nail, she throws it into the dirt and covers the hole with a hand. She's lost her knife, but found a fancy Pip-Boy. It covers her hand and when she makes a fist, it punches hard.
Stop, she hears, there is a sound.
Her voice is still gone.
Charles! Oh, that rat bastard! Her hand twitches, and she puts her fist into his face. He said he was there for mama, why did he come after her?
But it isn't Charles. She's horrified. What did she do? She sits, staring, reading letters on his shirt. Another seizure.
It's a beautiful day! She checks her watch and is shocked. Oh, it's late! She simply must get home and start dinner. At least she won't have to feed the children. She misses them when they go to summer camp, but they have fun.
She puts on her bonnet and hurries home to put her chicken in the oven.
Naughty children, breaking windows. She sees the glass on the ground. There is nothing to eat. She is hungry again, tries to remember how to dress a roast, but moves on. He'll find her, if she doesn't keep going. She punched his lights out, but he comes for her still.
Her necklace is gone, she doesn't know when she lost it. The wind hasn't blown, either, for ages. He must be working again, she thinks he is so good for his dedication to his job.
When the sun is out, she follows it west, her eyes blinded. But she stays out of towns, hides in the bushes, eats what she finds. Sees others like herself, lost inside their heads, no voices to speak with.
Something calls her to the south. The insects are out in full force, here. She follows the mountains, the road away from her feet. The only towns she visits are dead ones. Too many eyes in the places where houses stand.
She can feel it, now. Strength comes back to her limbs. Her leg is healing. She is happier. There is an audible hum from the mountain, calling her to church. She obliges.
She goes into the water, blessed again by the glowing light of Him. She is born anew to the world. Her mind is clear.
All the things she's done- she weeps, irradiated tears streaming down her face. Her boys! Where are they now? Lost to the man in the furs? She beats the ground, wails in a voice that hasn't spoken in many years.
And she looks up to see the barrel of a rifle, before she is released from her pitiful existence.
She watches.
"What is that?" Cass asked, poking the pile of muscle and bone.
The courier reached down into the muck and pulled out a power fist. "Veronica might want it."
"Why would a ghoul have that?" Cass wondered.
"They collect shiny things, sometimes. I guess that's why they always have caps." The courier shrugged. "It is odd, though."
As they walked away, Cass shook her shoulders and shot a lingering look at the corpse of the ghoul. They traveled away from the crater, neither one thinking anything about the incident.