OoO( 26 )OoO

There it was again. That fucking light. The same one from when he was born, the same one from the war, the same one from when he left the vault. It haunted him. And it was haunting him now. After so long drifting in darkness, to crack open his eyes and have his sensitive sight assaulted by a bright light was almost enough to knock him out again. He lifted his arm and blocked the offending photons from his gaze, then looked around at the room he was in.

It held a small amount of familiarity to him. But something wasn't quite right. He recognized the desk, the chair across from the door, and now that he thought about it, that annoying fucking light. Reaching up, he turned away the bright surgical lamp. It was then that he realized why everything looked wrong. He was laying on the operating table. His perspective was way off due to him never having been in this position before.

He tried to move, but most of his body refused to respond. So he used his hands to push himself up from the table into a sitting position. He noticed as well that he currently wore nothing but a towel. The thought irritated him, but he pushed on until he was finally sitting up straight. He tried to move his legs, but they barely responded. His mood soured again at his body's refusal to do what he wanted. Grabbing one leg, he flung it over the edge of the table, which was quickly followed by the other until he was sitting at the edge of the table.

He looked at the floor in irritation. "Well, sink or swim…" he said, then pushed himself off the table. He fell like a rock and slammed into the floor face first. He just laid there for a few moments and reflected on what he had just done. "Definitely sink." he said with a groan.

"You're not too bright, you know that?" asked a chipper voice from his arm.

He pulled the machine up to his face so he could see the vault girl staring at him pointedly. "Have you ever complimented me before?" he asked, his tone less than joking.

"Have you ever given me a reason to? You literally just threw yourself off a table, knowing that your legs weren't responding." she said, her arms akimbo as she looked at him with irritation.

"Yeah yeah." he said as he pushed himself back up to a sitting position again. "So, what the hell happened?" he asked.

"Oh, you don't remember cowboy?" asked the AI. He looked at her and noticed she was giving him a deadly glare. "Not a few days after we just had a talk about how you shouldn't be taking unnecessary risks, what do you do?" she snapped.

He was astounded for a moment. It almost sounded as if she were actually… "Elsa, are you mad at me?" he asked.

"Of course I am you idiot!" she shouted angrily. "Three...days! Three damn days after we had this whole big talk about how each time you risk your life, you're risking both of our lives! Not just you, poor little old Archangel, Reaper, Wolf of the Wasteland, lover of women, thrill chaser John! But me, Elsa. The girl that was trapped in a cage for two hundred years! TWO HUNDRED!" she shouted even louder, holding up two fingers. Suddenly it was as if her anger poured out, leaving a shell of the former AI. She continued her rant now, but in a melancholy tone. "Two hundred years John, I was trapped. You gave me my freedom after suffering by myself for so long. And now you want to take it away from me again." she said.

His eyes widened at her words. "No, I don't Elsa…" he said, but she shocked his arm with the defib mode of his pipboy.

"Don't feed me that crap John. You could have dropped the girl and grappled with that thing easily enough. Sure, you may have broken your arm again. But you'd still be conscious, not on the brink of death from a broken back and enough radiation poison to power a small city. The girl, she might have gotten stepped on. But she'd be alive." she said, then looked at him dead in his eyes. "You didn't even hesitate to turn your back on that creature. Military training etched into your brain, and you turned your back on it." she said, shaking her head. "Like I said John, you're either not too bright, or you just don't care if we live or die." she said.

John was speechless for a long moment. He had never been talked to like this before. At least, never when it was justified. He laid on the floor for a long time, running his own actions since he had left the vault through his head and came to the same conclusion she did. When he had first left the iron maiden known as the vault, his eyes scanned everything, he assessed situations, calculated odds, and formulated strategies. But ever since his release from the simulation, his tactics had changed. Now, he was a blunt instrument, a hammer to slam nails into the ground. He threw his strength around like a maniac, whether to show off or because he just didn't care anymore, he wasn't sure. But one thing was blindingly obvious. He had turned into a loose cannon when it came to his own safety.

He looked down at the pipboy at the girl who was looking back at him. "I'm sorry. You're….you're right. I've been completely reckless and I've disregarded the safety of one of my closest friends." he said with a depressing sigh. "You've helped me a lot in dealing with the death the simulation exposed me to. And to thank you, I've tried to get us both killed."

Elsa sighed as she looked at him. "That was to weed out the weak." she said, her avatar rubbing its forehead.

John looked at her, his eyebrow lifted in curiosity. "What?" he asked.

"The program killing off all of your squadmates. It wasn't just because the makers were sadistic assholes. They intentionally designed the mission to test your physical duress, and the deaths of the squad to test your willpower. It was designed to weed out those too weak to continue a mission due to exposure to KIA's." she said, then looked off to the side. "And I suppose to prepare you for the same thing in the future, given the program's initial purpose. Regardless, they intentionally inflicted that trauma on you to make sure you were prepared for it."

The wanderer let his head hit the floor in frustration. "So I failed…" he said with a groan.

"No, you completed the mission. It's what came after that you failed on." she said, a small glare on her formerly freckled face.

In that moment, he couldn't really say why, but the thought that the AI was incredibly adorable passed through his head. He reached up and rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I tried to get myself killed."

"Subconsciously or not, that's the deal." she said, huffing to herself and crossing her arms. "And that's why I have to ask you to find me a new home." she said, looking up at him seriously.

He stared at her, surprise etched into every inch of his face. "You want to leave?" he asked.

"I want to live John. Whatever that takes." she said, her voice monotone with indifference.

He used one of his arms to lift him into a sitting position. Then he brought her around to look at her again. Her expression hadn't changed. No 'I'm joking!', no kidding, she was dead serious. So he nodded. "If that's what you want, then I'll try and find you a new home. In the meantime, I'll try and do better for you." he said, his face crestfallen at the thought of losing her as a friend.

She looked up at him, then looked away. "Stop it." she said.

"Stop what?" he asked.

"You know what. Stop that face!" she said, growling.

"What face? I have no idea what you're talking about." he said, doing his best to hide a smile.

She finally turned and looked at him, her expression unamused. "That stupid cutesy sad face you make when you don't get your way!" she shouted as she finally broke and covered her eyes, though the act was merely for show.

John chuckled at her. "I'll stop if you stop being mad at me." he said, laying it on thick as he gave her the most pitiful face he could muster. The girl's avatar pulled a small cartoon gun up to her head and pulled the trigger, causing her to fall over with x's replacing her eyes. "Is that a yes?" he asked.

"Fine! Just stop looking at me like a buffoon!" she growled, sitting up and dusting herself off.

He dropped the expression and replaced it with a warm smile. "Seriously though, I will do better." he said.

"Gonna be hard to do if you can't walk." she said, crossing her arms again.

"Oh yeah…" said the wanderer as he tried to use his legs again. But they refused to move. "What's the deal with that by the way?" he asked.

"Did you not hear me mention the part about your back getting snapped in two?" she asked, her jaw dropping at how oblivious he had been.

He stared at her wide eyed. "That….that can't be! I don't feel anything, no pain, no fractures, no anything! My spine should be on fire right now if it were broken!" he shouted, his face near fury at the news.

"Yeah...see...here's the thing about that…"

OoOoO

Times were hard again. The same was true for a long time before he came along. But that changed after the encounter inside the saloon. The city had been enveloped in an aura of peace for a while that seemed too good to be true at first. After all, nobody wanted to piss off the man who had single handedly killed two different raider gangs. But despite the gunman's best efforts, there were still scum within the walls of the small town, biding their time until the day came when the wanderer did just that, wandered away, never to return.

He was back in the city now, however any threat he posed to those who thought they were too good to act like civil human beings was gone now that he was comatose. And according to the doctor, he would never walk again. So even if he did want to do something about the bad situation, he wouldn't be able to. This thought emboldened the dark ones within the town and encouraged them to act out.

It was almost amusing to her that the sheriff of the town, who was honorbound to protect the city, couldn't even protect it from itself. His eyes were always pointed outwards, towards the wastes. Any threat that approached their gates was quickly dispatched through the scope of his rifle. But the scope was long ranged, keeping his vision from seeing that which was right around him.

She sighed to herself as her place in life sunk right back to where it was before his presence fixed a lot of the problems. When she looked up, she found herself staring at the clinic sadly, wishing there were anything she could do to fix him so that he could swoop in again and carry her worries away. But she was sure this was it now. She had lost her chance to be free. He wasn't going to just kick the door to the clinic in and call out to her.

Suddenly, the woman jumped as the door to the clinic actually did slam open, and the naked form of the gunman was pulling himself along the floor. "Nova!" he shouted as he saw her. The image mentally smacked her in the face as it debunked everything she just told herself. "I need you to get Cid! Fast!" he shouted. The woman stood frozen for a moment before finally nodding, then bolting off for the saloon, where she had seen the vault dwellers large companion last.

OoOoO

"Cummon man! Can't we at least get you some clothes first?" asked the large man as he rushed from the clinic up the catwalks to the water purification building above.

"No time Cid! I know it's intimidating, but we need to hurry!" he said as he slunk along the metal walkways, his bare feet scraping the metal platforms as the large man carried him like a suitcase. The wasters who frequented the town all stared at the nude gunman as they passed, Nova just chuckling, despite her former sulking, behind them.

"Get that shit outta here. It's just weird!" shouted the dark skinned man as he kicked open the door to the plant and stumbled inside with the fiery-haired woman following quickly behind.

"Oww ya shit!" complained John as his head bounced off the door frame due to Cid's carelessness in entering the door. But he brushed off the small wound and looked around the plant. "Walter!" shouted John.

The elderly man was cranking on a wrench underneath one of the panels when the trio entered. When he heard his name called, he sat up from underneath the structure and looked at the tree. His eyes went to the naked wanderer, then Nova, then Cid, then he just shook his head. "Oh hell no. Leave me out of whatever kind of freaky shit yall are getting into." he said, then ducked back under the panel.

"Walter, I need your help with something." said John as he urged Cid to get closer. As the dark skinned man puppeted the vault dweller forward, Nova couldn't help but admire everything she had been missing since their split. Between now and then, his muscle mass had grown exponentially, making him look like a moving, talking statue of Hercules from ancient myth. Anything that was said afterwards ended up going in one ear and out the other.

"Whatever the hell it is, it can wait until you have some damn clothes on." said the older man in an irritated tone.

"I'll put some on when I can walk again!" he shouted. The gunman's voice made all of their heads snap towards him. Nova's eyes were wide, her mouth open as her jaw dropped in wonder. Cid eyed him cautiously, seeing if he had suffered head trauma from their entrance into the building. Walter however, stood to his feet, looking at the wanderer and wiping his oily hands on a rag.

"What do you need me to do?" he asked.

John sighed in relief. "I thought you'd never ask…"

OoOoO

An hour after their theatrical entrance into the water plant, John sat on the floor in front of the capsule that held the nuclear core to the town. On either side of him, chains hung from the ceiling, coiling loosely around his stark form. Nova, Walter, and Cid all watched cautiously as the gunman reached up, and grabbing a handful of chains, before using his sheer power to lift himself up.

Nova again found herself smiling slightly as she watched him reach up with his muscular arms and grab another length of chain, before repeating the process with his other arm. Finally, when he was satisfied that he was high enough, he coiled the metal chains around his arms, causing them to start biting into the skin of his arms. "Alright, I'm ready."

Walter walked up to the contraption and eyed the wanderer. "Are you sure you wanna go through with this?" he asked seriously.

"I have to." said John. The old engineer shook his head and sighed, then lifted the radiation shield over the capsule. "You two, step outside. Walter will be behind you shortly." he said.

"We can't watch?" asked Nova, surprised at the request.

"Sorry, but the amount of radiation this puts out could fry you guys. We've already proven that I can take it, so I need you to leave for your safety." he said. The woman then nodded, and walked out with Cid behind her.

Before leaving, Cid turned back to the gunman. "If you melt into a pile of radioactive goo, I'm taking your house." he said, smirking as he did.

John glared at the man. "You touch my house and I'll shove my useless radioactive foot up your ass. Now get out before I do it anyway." he said.

Walter chuckled as the larger man left, leaving the door open, then turned back to John. It was hard to look him in the eyes now. Before, his eyes had been a soft, forest green. A color that brought peace to the soul. But now, the man's iris' had been forever changed to a bright radioactive green from his close call with the hulking feral. The effect unnerved him, and many others that had looked at the effect while he was in comatose. But he fought past the uneasy feeling and looked at probably the only person he'd ever considered a friend. "Are you ready?" he asked. The gunman looked at him, then nodded solemnly. "Alright." he said, then threw the lever for the capsule, causing the casing to slide open, and allowing a blazing green light to project straight onto the hanging wanderer.

When the capsule opened, the older man turned and left the building immediately, closing the door behind him. The two outside were staring at him as he walked over to the railing and leaned over it. "Do you think this can actually work?" asked the large mercenary.

"Hell if I know. You'd have to ask Moira to get any kind of details like that." said the old codger as he opened a folding chair and sat down. Nova just sat on the ground, leaning against the wall, puffing on a smoke she had just lit as she heard the humming within the building.

OoOoO

Sheriff Simms had been tied up most of the day. On one of his watcher walks, he had spotted someone coming towards Megaton with their hands up. Opening the gate, he allowed them to walk into the city, but as per his usual routine, went down to talk to the man. He was clearly a raider, as his armor consisted of the usual ragtag ensemble of wasteland junk. Seeing the armor, the sheriff raised his rifle as a warning to the character.

"Is there something I can help you with?" asked the dark-skinned man.

"Yes Sheriff, there is." said the man in a tone that would have sounded more appropriate coming from a radsnake.

The man had greasy black hair that hung from his head like a wet curtain, and a face so burned that it was hard to make out any noticeable features. "Perhaps you'd like to tell me why I shouldn't just put a round in your head right now." said Lucas as he eyed the man, not using the scope, as the stranger was too close for it to be effective.

"Because Sheriff. If I die, you die. If I die, everyone in this shithole dies with me." said the man, who smiled maniacally as he walked forward and placed the sheriff's gun barrel against his chest. "Go ahead, try me."

Simms, in no mood to be tested, pointed the barrel down at the man's leg and fired. The surprise on the raiders face was immediate, and he fell over crying loudly and shouting in anger. But Simms wasn't through with him. Putting a boot on the man's throat, he stopped him from rolling. "I asked you a question. The next bullshit answer I get is going into your family jewels." said the dark skinned man as he pressed the barrel between the man's legs. "Now, let's try again. Why are you in my town?"

The raider glared up at him and roared an incoherent shout of rage. But the pressure against his manhood kept him from struggling much. "They want that crippled vault dweller!" shouted the man as he struggled to nurse his leg with a boot on his throat.

Simms glared down at the figure. "Who wants him?" he asked.

"I don't fucking know! Some shitbag in power armor!" he shouted to the sheriff. "He sent me here to tell you that if you don't hand over that fucking snivelling dogooder, that they were going to raze the town to the ground and kill everyone in it!"

Simms smiled at the man. "How would they know whether I killed you or not?" he asked.

"They're watching the gates from afar. They can see what your doing right now as long as the gate is open!" shouted the raider, hoping his words deterred any more violence from the sheriff. Whoever told him the sheriff was another dogooder who wouldn't hurt a fly was getting his knife in their throat when he got back. Lucas chuckled, then reached down and grabbed the man by the collar and lifted him from the ground. "Ow, ow! What the fuck are you doing!?" asked the frantic raider as the sheriff dragged him up the catwalks. He reached up and grabbed the sheriffs strong arm desperately as he was forced up to the highest point in the town.

"Answering their question." he said as he threw the man forward. The raider caught the railing in front of him, and looked down at the sheer drop, straight over the wall of the city. He quickly shuffled back towards the sheriff, his fear of heights getting the better of him, but the dark-skinned man pressed a gun barrel to his back, forcing him against the railing.

"L-Look man….we can work this out…" stuttered the raider as he tried to bargain for his life. But he didn't get out another word as the weapon against his back roared. He looked down at the hole now protruding from his chest, reaching up to touch the warm blood now pouring out of the wound. He barely felt it as the sheriff kicked him in the back, sending him over the edge of the railing, and down a hundred or so feet to his death.

Sheriff Lucas Simms looked out at the ruins of Springvale and lifted a hand, challenging whoever was watching him to come get him. Turning away from the edge, he began to walk down the catwalk, remembering back to his days when he was burying the axes of the Fire Brigade in their bodies as they lie paralyzed. He remembered the promise he made, never to treat another human like that again, to kill cleanly and painlessly, and without humiliation.

"For his sake, that's one promise I'm going to break. So come and get us, because all you're going to get back is bodies." he said darkly to himself as he headed for the clinic.

OoOoO

She smiled as she saw the gesture from her little hideaway inside the highest point of the school. Lowering her binoculars, the woman stood to her feet and stretched her long, limber limbs. Two of her captains in the room eyed her hungrily as she stepped out from behind the desk. Her slightly bronzed skin was covered by a simple pair of pants and a tank top with a vest over it. The tank top was cut relatively low on the neckline, leaving a revealing trail of cleavage for the man to drool over. Her dark eyes could make them beg for release, or sob for an ounce of mercy. And her hair, well, that was the most shocking thing about her.

She took a Nuka-Cola from the desk in front of her and walked up to the window, lounging against the sill as she looked at the town which stood before her, like a mighty beacon. "Well, this is going to be interesting." she said as she reached up and flipped the pink hair out of her face. "Let's see how Mr. Vault Dweller handles this situation." she said in a voice as smooth as silk, watching the town on the horizon.