Prologue - Open Doors
She loved it when he ruffled her hair, but hated when he left afterwards. Why couldn't he stay home? Why did he have to leave and not come back for so many hours? Why was it the same thing every day?
The door opened, he left home and her alone. She always stood for five minutes looking at that door. To say that she stared blankly at it was a misunderstanding. In her mind, she wished, no prayed, the door will open and her father will walk back inside to play or spend time with her. Did that ever happen? No. But did she still do it anyway? Yes.
She told herself not to be selfish of course. Her father was the main medical and science professional in the vault, her so-called home that she shared with a dozen or so other people, and people usually needed his help or a piece of machinery needed some time, love, and care. Curious as she was, she wondered if he would ever take her to work with him for she had a fascination with machinery and technology, but not so much in medicine.
Of course she was only five, and technically couldn't say her father was being mean by leaving her at home. Five-year-olds and life-sustaining technology don't mix apparently, at least that's what the Overseer says. Honestly, she always thought the vault overlord was trying to keep her and her father seperated. Her father did say that the Overseer had a right to hold a grudge against him, but for what he wouldn't say.
But the one good thing about the Overseer, was that he had a daughter about her age: Amata. Amata and her got along well and were usually inseperable when the kids were allowed to play together. They fantacised over Grognak, roleplayed as pre-war characters, and even shared their thoughts on what the world outside the vault looked like. Their thoughts of course brought ridicule from the boys, or at least some of the boys. The one heavily implanted in her mind was Butch Deloria: her good ol' bully and nosebleed-giver,
She tried to be nice to Butch, but he was always oppressive and aggressive towards her. Granted Butch didn't have a dad, so he was probably jealous of her and Amata for both having one, but he did have a mom, something she wished she had. Her father always told her that Butch's mother was not the best of women and that she was probably unfit to raise Butch properly. Apparently, she has a drinking problem. She couldn't help but feel sorry for Butch, but she knew the last thing he wanted was pity.
While she tried to be nice to Butch and his gang of friends, Amata was vehemently hostile towards them. Amata hated them with a burning passion that she could not fathom. Butch's gang did harass them differently however. She received nosebleeds and rude names; Amata received flirtations and unwanted attention, as well as mockery. She tried to stand up for Amata, but that usually ended in her getting a nosebleed and her glasses, another source of mockery, broken. When inquired about it, Butch always admitted to his deeds, but brushed off punishment like dust on his jumpsuit. She hated it, but there wasn't anything she could do about a kid who didn't, and still doesn't, care.
So now she sat there, elven years older and much more matured. Her glasses sat on her nose and her long champagne hair fell past her shoulders. Her pale porcelain skin was practically flawless except for a bout of acne (typical of a teenager). She definitely was not as developed as Amata or the other girls, but she was in no way without assets. Besides, if they got bigger, they would get in the way or cause undesired back problems.
She sighed after staring at the door for the usual five minutes, and grudgingly got up out of her chair and grabbed her school bag. Though the teacher wouldn't admit it, she was the best student in the whole class, mainly cause she did as told without question and did it right. "Goody-two-shoes" as Butch would call her. At least that was better than "Nosebleed".
The door swooshed open and she stepped into the main halls of the vault. It closed behind her and she headed towards class. Class was usually uneventful except on days where they studied chemistry and physics, but those were every once in a blue moon due to the "safety of the vault" regulations.
Amata stood outisde of class, flipping through one of her textbooks frantically. Whe she neared Amata, the tan skinned girl looked up.
"Chryssy! You're here! Oh my... god! There is a quiz today!" Amata freaked and averted her head back to the textbook.
'Chryssy' hated that nickname. As far as she was concerned she hated all her nicknames (except the ones her dad gave her). She preferred to be called 'Chrys', but nobody, not even her dad, called her that.
"I know. He said so yesterday." Chrys said.
"What!? When!?" Amata exclaimed as she shut the book with the force of a thousand door slams.
"When you were oggling Freddie Gomez." Chrys teased and made a heart shape with her fingers. Amata blushed, but her darker skin made it hard to see.
"I was not oggling Freddie! He was just sitting in a peculiar pose." Amata tried to comeback, "Okay! I was oggling him."
Chrys smirked and rolled her eyes, "I knew it. The quiz shouldn't be hard, it actually sounds pretty easy."
Amata laughed a nervous laugh, "Yeah, but you're the smart one, you have no right to say that."
"Yeah, but-" Chrys began, but she heard the telltale sign of footsteps that made her stop. So many footsteps at once probably meant the Tunnel Snakes were coming. "We should probably get into class."
Amata obviously heard it too. "Yeah. Good idea."
Before the two girls could reach the safety of the classroom, someone coughed behind them as if to get their attention. Chrys had no desire to turn around, but the oh so familiar teasing voice of Butch demanded it.
"Nosebleed!" his nickname for Chrys sounded, "Almodovar!" his simple name for Amata (her last name). Chrys really hated her nickname. She turned and looked back at the four approaching teenage boys: Butch DeLoria, Freddie Gomez, Wally Mack, and Paul Hannon Jr. A venom-filled smirk adorned Butch's face as he neared. "You know you two are late for your weekly harassment."
Amata put her hands on her hips and frowned, "And you are late for school. O h wait, that's right. Your brain can't handle school like the rest of us."
Butch's smirk died down, "Shut it Almodovar. You don't want to make a snake angry."
"Yeah, remember the last time you made a snake angry?" Wally threatened. Chrys shuddered as she remembered how much time she had to spend on the supply closet lock, it was a sad day.
"Oh. You're gonna stuff me in the supply closet and give Chrys a nosebleed? Can't you guys think of anything new? Better yet, can't you guys grow up and leave us alone?" Amata said back at the boys. Chrys rubbed her wrist, really wanting to get to class right now and avoid any conflict.
"Amata, let's just go to class." Chrys piped up. Butch smirked at her.
"What's the matter Nosebleed? Afraid of us?" Butch asked as he made a gesture to the other Tunnel Snakes. Chrys looked down at her feet when she responded.
"No. I'm not afraid of you Butch. I just want to go to class without any problems." Chrys said, her voice betraying her true fear of the boys. If it came down to a fight, the boys would surely win against her and Amata. Butch laughed.
"Not afraid of us huh? Well now, it looks like Nosebleed Winchester has finally got some backbone!" Butch teased. The other boys laughed along.
"... At least I don't need a fake organization to make me strong." she said, not knowing at all what compelled her to say that. The words felt jumbled coming out of her mouth, but she couldn't really stop them if she tried. This time Butch looked at her with an angered expression.
"Well let's see how strong you are then!?" Butch sneered.
"Butch I-" Chrys began, but the sudden impact of fist with nasal cartilage stopped her before she could finish. The impact sent her falling to the cold metal floor of the vault.
"Chryssy!" Amata cried, "You assholes! Leave her alone!"
Chrys looked up, and everything was blurry. Her glasses must have fallen off either when Butch punched her or when she fell. Looking down, she did see a small blur of crimson below her. Reflexively,she pressed her jumpsuit sleeve to her nose to try a stop the blood from getting everywhere. A crunch then sounded as a dark blur came in front of her.
"Oops! Sorry Nosebleed. Looks like you'll need some new glasses... again!" Butch let out a triumphant laugh. Chrys felt so weak and useless. In fact, she felt like she wanted to cry. She wished she could get used to this, but after awhile she just wished all of this could stop.
"Hey! What are you all doing!? Get to class!" a voice sounded. Chrys recognized it as their teacher. The dark blur that was Butch left her vision. Chrys slowly stood up. A hand came down on her shoulder, "Winchester, you need to go to the med bay."
Amata spoke up, "Can I take her there?"
"No Miss Almodovar. I think Miss Winchester can get there by herself. You need to get to class." their teacher said and removed his hand from Chrys' shoulder.
"But she can't-" Amata started.
"Class now Amata. Chrysanthemum, go to the med bay."
"Yeth, sfir." Chrys responded.
Amata sighed, "Fine!"
Chrys watched as the two blurs dissappeared into the blurry hole on the blurry gray wall. Chrys sighed. After being punched so much, and her glasses being lost or broken so many times, navigating the vault to the med bay has become second nature to her. She set off down the blurred hall.
When she reached the med bay, she was greeted by Jonas Palmer, her dad's assisstant. "Chryssy? What are you doing here shouldn't you be at- oh. Oh man. Tunnel Snakes again?"
Chrys could only nod. She felt if she was going to say anything, she would burst into tears. The blur that was Jonas got up and put an arm around her shoulders and guided her to the backroom where her dad was.
"Hey James. Your little girl is here." Jonas said. Chrys could see the white blur that she knew was her father. Jonas' arm left Chrys' shoulder and she heard his footsteps retreat back to the front room of the med bay.
"Sweetheart." her dad's comforting voice sounded as the white blur got closer, "What happened?"
She sniffed. It was always the same thing that happened, but her dad always asked that question anyway. A couple tears slid down her face. Her dad's hands gently patted her arms. "There there honey. It's okay. I'll get you all patched up as always. Don't cry sweetie."
This was just like always, but unlike the past times she came there, she cried. Butch's punches and insults never made her cry. The Tunnel Snakes' constant harrassment of her and Amate didn't make her cry. Her many nose- blood- stained- clothes never made her cry. No, the straw that finally broke the camel's back was that no matter what she did in that damn Vault, everyone seemed to dislike her in some way, shape, or form. True, there was Amata, Jonas, and James (Chrys' father), but other than them everyone disliked her or were indifferent towards her. Hell, her birthday party when she turned ten was filled with cold shoulders and suicide poems. The only memorable parts (well the good ones) were Amata giving her a Grognak the Barbarian comic book in mint condition (no pages were missing) and her father giving her a BB gun (and telling her he fixed it using a spring from Butch's switchblade).
As far as she knew, she didn't intentionally do anything to make people hate her. She tried to be nice to everyone, even Butch, and she tried her best to stay out of trouble, though Butch usually caused trouble that involved her. Other girls, she knew, weren't jealous of her in any sort of way. She was not a starlet or pin-up girl like Amata or Susie could aspire to be. She had no glorifying assets like them. Again, her face showed bits of acne that most other girls had the grace to not have. So why did people not like her?
More tears spilled from eyes and soaked the bandage that her father had covered her nose with. She didn't care if they messed up the bandage, she didn't care about anything really other than wanting to know the answer to her question. Rather than fus over the bandage, her father just stood in front of her (she was now sitting on an examination table) and let her cry. She was thankful for that, somehow she felt she just needed to let it all out. And what better place than in front of her father?
A soft touch touched her arm, and slowly rubbed her arm in a soft and comforting gesture. A rather simple gesture, but it helped more than anyone could imagine. Like the "kiss it to make it better" saying she heard when growing up. As if he read her mind, her father pressed a soft kiss to her head: what he always did when she was sad.
"Honey. People don't hate you." James said as he continued to rub her arm.
Chrys sniffed, "B-but then why d-do they always t-treat m-me differently?"
James sighed, "You aren't the only one the - what are they again?- Tunnel Snakes pick on. Anyone outside of their gang is at risk of being bullied by them."
"So why am I picked on the most? Tell me that." Chrys said, wiping her nose with a tissue she procurred from the nearby table.
"You want to know what I think?" James raised an eyebrow. Chrys nodded her head in response. "I think Butch is jealous of you."
"Him? Jealous of me?" This time Chrys raised an eyebrow, but in confusion.
James nodded with a thin smile. "Yep. He wants what you have probably."
"What do I have other than you?" Chrys asked. Her father probably was the only thing she could genuinely call hers.
"Maybe he's jealous you have a father. Maybe he's jealous of how you do much better in school than he does. Maybe he's jealous of how Mrs. Palmer gives you sweetrolls on your birthday." James explained, then he rubbed his chin for a moment, "Maybe he's jealous of not being the apple of your eye."
Chrys couldn't help but laugh, "Dad, the only man I'll ever love is you. Remember? I made that clear thriteen years ago."
James smiled. "I know sweety. I remember. But one day, one of the boys here in the vault will catch your eye and you will fall for him."
Chrys stuck out her tongue and faked a gag, "Bleh! I have to like one of the guys in the vault."
"I know you don't really like any of them sweety, but when you are older all of this gang stuff will be immature to them and they'll stop. Then you'll start to like one of them." James explained.
"You're just messing me with me dad." Chrys said and poked him on the chest.
"It's how the world works." James said.
"No, it's how this vault works." Chrys said.
A crestfallen look fell on James' face. "I know this vault is the only life you've known, but outside is a dangerous place dear. In here you are safe..."
She cut in, "... in here I was born. In here I will live. In here I will die. I get that picture dad. We say it everyday at school. And I don't want to go outside, I like it in here... when I don't have to deal with the terds."
They both laughed. Remarkably, Chrys felt much better now. She wasn't sure how here father had that affect on her. He just had to talk with her and she felt fine. Then again, her father had that ability to make anyone feel good or better. He had good people skills. Make that amazing people skills. Or maybe it was because of his role as a doctor.
Maybe... he was just an amazing person overall.
1 month later
"I see a perfectly healthy sixteen-year-old girl. Simple as that." James said as he set down his examining instrument. Chrys sighed.
"Do I have to take this test?" Chrys asked.
"Everyone has to take the G.O.A.T. Chrys. No one gets out of it." James said, "Relax, it's not a hard test." He tapped a finger against his temple. "Just use your common sense and knowledge and you'll do fine."
"But what if I..." Chrys began.
"It's impossible to fail the G.O.A.T. sweety." he responded.
Chrys pouted a bit. "What if I don't get..."
"Honey, you're going to be late for the test. Don't worry about it." James said as he helped her off the exam table and gestured her out the door of the med bay.
Chrys couldn't relax for her life. The GOAT dictated what her occupation as an adult would be. She dreaded the thought of becoming a garbage manager or something along that line. She gulped. James patted her on the back as a final reassurrance and sent her on her way.
'One step, two step, three step, four step. This test only dictates your whole future Chrys. Five step, six step, seven step, eight step. How bad can it be?" she thought as she made her way to the classroom and pushed her glasses back up her nose. They always fell when she was nervous. When she rounded the corner, she (expectingly) found Butch and his gang talking to Amata. Chrys sighed. 'Even on the day of the G.O.A.T. Butch. Even on the day of the G.O.A.T.'
"Leave me alone Butch." Amata said as he made a reach for her and she swatted his hand away. He recoiled with a smirk.
"Come on Amata. You've got love handles for a reason. Let me handle them." the vault greaser said as he shook his hand.
Chrys walked up to the group. Butch and Amata turned their gaze toward her. Amata brightened up a bit. "Chryssy! I'm glad you're here. It's about time a mature head showed up." She emphasised the 'mature' part.
"We are damn mature enough Almodovar and don't you forget it!" Butch said through gritted teeth.
"Yeah, well, why don't you start acting like it?" Amata asked.
Chrys didn't want another pre-class crisis, especially not before a test this big. Granted, a crisis would get her out of taking the test knowing how it would most likely turn out. She stepped inbetween Butch and Amata and faced Butch with a stern look that she didn;t quite know she could muster.
"Butch. We all have the G.O.A.T. to take. Unless you want to waste time and get a poor score and end up as a trash collector, which I will then happily watch as Amata throws trash in your face, all of us need to get to class." Chrys stated.
Butch stared at her with furrowed brows. She wanted to gulp, but she guessed if she showed any insecurity or underconfidence, he would gain the upper hand with it. Finally, after a minute, Butch popped his leather jacket collar.
"Alright boys, let's not waste our time with these two and go take the stupid test." he said and walked towards the classroom.
After the "snakes" were out of view, Chrys let out a breath she didn't even realize she was holding back. Amata patted her on the back. "Hey, you did it! You stood up to Butch."
"Yeah... I... I guess I did." Chrys said, somewhat shocked.
"Well come on! Let's go before we become trash collectors." Amata said and tugged on Chrys' sleeve.
Chrys laughed and followed after Amata. She definitely didn't want that to happen.
3 years later
Chrys plopped down on the ground in front of the sofa. The bowl she carried was filled to the brim with potato crisps. Her dad sat next to her. He held a box of snack cakes for them to share. Each of them had two Nuka-Colas. Why they weren't sitting on the couch, neither had any idea.
"So what movie did you find dad?" Chrys asked.
"I thought we'd watch a classic for old time's sake." James said.
They both turned their attention to the small TV screen. Chrys remembered the movie well. It was about Christmas, family, and the due process of law. They had started watching the movie every year ever since she was nine. She liked it and it always made her wish the Vault still celebrated holidays. The Overseer saw them as obsolete. Half way through the movie all of the snacks and drinks were gone.
Chrys felt her father's eyes on her. She turned to look at him. He had a soft smile, but his eyes showed a different emotion. Sadness? Regret? She couldn't tell.
"Daddy? Is something wrong?" She asked worried.
He sighed, "No sweetheart. Nothing is wrong. It's just that I got your papers that issue you your own vault room this mornning."
She knew those would be coming. She was nineteen now, and that meant time to leave the nest. Her little family of two had been dreading the day it would happen.
"So... when do I leave?" she asked.
"In a week they'll ask you to move your things. Then it's another week after that." James said like he had remembered the exact directions to a tee. Then again what father could forget the paper that forcibly kicked his daughter out of the house? Definitely not her dad.
She rested her head on his shoulder, "I'll be fine daddy. If I want to see you, I'll just go to the med bay after 'work'." The G.O.A.T. placed her as the jukebox repairman (well woman). She had been puzzled by that due to the fact that there was only one jukebox in the entire Vault. And it never broke. And it wouldn't be hard to fix. And it was a rather insignificant occupation. Which meant she didn't really have to go to work. Oh the faultiness of the infamous G.O.A.T..
"Do you want to help me pack?" Chrys asked her father softly. It might be the last thing they'll be able to do together while living in the same assigned house.
James smiled, "Sure. But for now, let's finish ther movie huh?"
Chrys giggled, "Okay Daddy."
3 Days and one Vault chrisis later
It wasn't supposed to happen. It never should have happened. It shouldn't have even been conceived. But here she was, with Amata, standing infront of the Vault exit. The door that never opened, until recently that is.
Jonas was dead.
The Overseer had gone mad.
Her father... he left. They never did get to packing her stuff.
"Come on Chryssy. We've got to get this damn thing open." Amata said as she went to the console to their left. Chrys didn't question how Amata knew how to open the Vault door. Then again she was the Overseer's daughter.
"Amata..."
"Not now Chrys. You need to get out of here." Amata frantically struggled with the console as she continued, "If my dad finds you, he'll have you killed like Jonas."
Chrys looked down to the floor. Was all of this her fault? Was it her dad's fault? All this death and disorder? Why?
She looked up. The door made a resound creak as it started to shift. It made her think back to those days when she was little, when her father left for work. However, now he wasn't there to ruffle her hair, to say goodbye, or to tell her that she couldn't follow. Now the door was opening, and she was free to follow in any way she wanted to. Could she do it? Would she do it? Would she rather face the Overseer and death?
Bracing, she took one last look at her best friend and nodded. "Goodbye Amata. I'll miss you and this place."
Amata had a wry smile, "Bye Chrys... you're right. 'Chrys' does sound better than 'Chryssy'" Chrys could only smile wider. 'You realize that now when we'll never see each other again? Amata, you have too many dates with irony.'
Finally, the Vault door opened.
'No. I'm not ready!'