It had been three months since Hawk had rescued Sally from the Enclave garrison and they had pretty much settled into a working relationship. Sally insisted they were partners and shared all profits with him. They had a slowly growing supply of caps even though expenses were high.

Sally found armor she could wear, though she had to take it off corpses and it often needed repaired, but there was never anything for Hawk that was good enough. Feral super mutants weren't especially interested in body protection. She pieced together a covering of sorts from scavenged items, but it wasn't enough. She wanted to have a good set of armor and sturdy boots made for him. He often took severe injuries that laid him up for days at a time, usually when he got too vehement in his protection of her. He wasn't the silent sneaking type.

They still shared a blanket when in the wasteland and were getting quite comfortable with each other. The days were getting warmer with the approach of spring but the nights were still cold. They spent a lot of time in the wasteland. Hawk was getting used to the idea that Sally bathed whenever possible even in the wasteland, and expected him to maintain the same level of cleanliness. She was mostly concerned about infections. Antibiotics were hard to come by and not always as effective as she would have liked. There were still times though when they would have to go days or even weeks without bathing.

They had explored much of the western DC wasteland, coming across towns and buildings, exciting adventures and close calls. They had made friends and enemies. Stories about the strange pair spread like wildfire through-out the wasteland, often exaggerated beyond belief. Sally was amused to overhear some of them from traders, or in bars or shops they began to frequent.

The Enclave seemed to pop up everywhere and take umbrage with her; maybe because she had destroyed their northern garrison. She had a nice collection of their armor and weapons in her home, none donated willingly.

Three Dog was delighted with the pair and continued to broadcast their escapades throughout the wasteland, adding to their mystique. Thankfully his information was always days or even weeks behind so no one ever knew where they were going to turn up next. Since the Talon Mercs continued to hunt them they made sure to choose their destinations randomly.

It was always a good day when they stumbled across a vault. This was a good day.

The upper levels of the vault had taken some time to clear of the feral ghouls that had been infesting it. Some of the ghouls had been super strong, almost as strong as the mutant, and able to use weapons pretty efficiently. It hadn't been a cake walk but they had finally forced the remaining ghouls into the lower levels and secured the door.

Sally finished loading her pack with the last item she could carry. "Well, I guess that's about it.", she said to Hawk. "I don't think we can get another thing in the packs. I'm pretty sure there're still a few things down in the lower levels but I'm not sure it would be worth killing the ghouls for. What do you think? Should we just leave now?", she asked.

She leaned against the counter of the kitchen area, looking over at the big mutant. Hawk was holding a whiskey bottle from a group he found on the table. "We could come back later.", he agreed. He placed the bottle back on the table. Sally eyed the pile.

"It's pretty secure up here as long as the door to the lower levels is locked.", she said. "And I'm pretty tired. How about we have a couple drinks and a good night's sleep before we go? Some of the bedrooms down the hall here still have working locks. I don't think a drink or two will hurt anything, do you?"

Hawk picked up a whiskey bottle and handed one to Sally. "I haven't had a drink since you rescued me.", he said. "I've forgotten what it tastes like." Sally grinned, holding up her bottle.

"I'm glad I found you. It's been a good three months. We work pretty well together, don't you think? To a good haul.", she said raising her bottle and taking a big swig.

"To a good haul", Hawk echoed, and drank down the bottle. He stood stock still for a moment, and then grabbed another bottle and glugged it down. And then another.

"Um, Hawk, don't you think that's enough?", Sally asked tentatively. Hawk turned slowly to glare at her. Uh, oh. His eyes blazed with feral ferocity, no longer intelligent. With a low growl he started toward her. So what do you do when a berserker super mutant heads toward you and you don't want to kill it? You run!

Sally slid around the table as Hawk growled and started toward her, killing hot in his eyes. She leapt toward the door, hurtled down the hallway. The bedrooms. They were just down this hall, and she remembered which one had a secure door. She ran as fast as she could, the sound of the deranged mutant stampeding behind her. She skidded into the room and slammed the door, hitting the lock. The door shook as the mutant slammed into it. She could hear him, roaring his rage in the hall, slamming against the door. Then he moved off.

She carefully unlocked the door and peered out. She could hear the sound of breaking bottles down the hall and figured he was finishing off the stash of whiskey. She closed the door, making sure it was secure, and looked around her. The room held a bed and that was about all of interest. She had left her pack with her weapons in the kitchen, so all she had on her was her calf knife and the laser pistol she carried in a holster on her side.

She hoped the big guy would eventually sleep it off. She lay down on the bed and closed her eyes, but she didn't sleep well. Throughout the night she could hear him stomping about, the sounds of breaking things, the roars of rage, the screams. Screams? She didn't want to know. Covering her head she tried to sleep.

"Sally?" The voice was hoarse and uncertain, just outside her door. Sally opened her eyes. She didn't answer, but slid from the bed and went to the door. She stood beside it, listening. "Sally." The gravelly voice was low and tired. She carefully opened the door, ready to slam it shut. Hawk was sitting beside her door, leaning against the wall, his head hanging between his hands. He was covered with blood and gore. He looked up questioningly. "What have I done?", he asked despondently. "Have I hurt you?"

Sally knelt beside him. "No, I'm fine. Are you hurt? Come on, get up, we need to get you cleaned up. There's a bathroom in the next hall and it still has water in it. Come on now, you know I can't lift you."

"I'm glad you are all right. I don't want to hurt you," he said, still sounding confused, but he crawled to his feet and let Sally help him to the bathroom.

It took some effort but she finally got the big guy to get undressed and cleaned up enough to evaluate his state. He had some deep wounds, but not many, most of the cuts and stabs were shallow. There didn't seem to be any that were life threatening. Sally helped him into a bedroom and went to get her pack. He had passed out when she returned and she heaved a sigh of relief as some of the wounds would need stitching. She tended his wounds and then left, securing the door behind her. She had to find out what he had done during the night.

She went in to the kitchen, carefully avoiding the broken bottles littering the floor, tables and counters. She estimated he had drunk at least 5 bottles. No wonder he couldn't move now. She didn't think she would ever drink whiskey again.

Their packs were still in the corner where they had put them. They must not have drawn his attention while he was rampaging drunkenly. She took a shotgun from her pack and made sure her laser pistol and knife were secure in their sheaths.

There was some 200 year old preserved food in the fridge, so she ate some of that with a bottle of purified water. Fortified, she went out into the hall and studied the blood trails on the floor. Hawk had opened the door to the lower levels. That hadn't been good for the denizens that had decided to take advantage to come up. They were now in bits and pieces near the top of the stairwell. They hadn't even made it all the way up.

There didn't seem to be any sounds coming from the staircase leading down, but she kept her shotgun out and moved carefully. The blood trails lead down, so she followed them. She found 2 bodies at the bottom of the stairs, at least she thought it was two. It was hard to tell as the ghouls had been torn to shreds. She moved on down the hall.

It took her a couple hours to search the lower level, but she found no living creature, just a lot of dead ones. She studied two dismembered bodies lying half in a doorway. Reapers, the strong arms of the ghouls. That's probably where Hawk had gotten his wounds. It looked like he had used only a knife for a weapon. She felt a deep respect and more than a little fear at the big mutant's abilities. She trusted him absolutely, but she was going to have to be more careful of his berserker tendencies.

Sally holstered her weapons and hurried back up the stairs. She closed the door behind her. It was going to start smelling pretty bad down there and they weren't going to be leaving anytime soon.

Hawk was still passed out, his big figure sprawled on the mattresses she had tossed on the floor as he wouldn't fit on a human sized bed. She checked him carefully, not fully sure how a mutant reacted to a binge, or if he would have a hangover. He seemed to be doing all right, but she had no idea how he would be when he woke.

She needed to remove the scent of blood from the hallway and rooms where he had tracked it so that it wouldn't set him off again. She sighed as she threw his clothes in a tub full of water to soak while she went in search of a bucket and mop. This had been her fault, though how was she to know how he would react to a little- okay, a lot- of alcohol. She would clean him up, take care of him, and see what happened.