Disclaimer: I do not own fallout.
Marisa hated crying more than she hated math. She maybe hadn't thought so the first time it happened, but back then she hadn't known that it was more than her slipping and scraping her knees!
Now she knew the truth -that when you cried, all the things that happened got worse after! Just like that, the next day after she'd scraped herself, she'd burned herself on a hot stove. After crying at that, she'd cut herself on a knife, and then after crying at *that*, she'd tripped down the stairs! Now this whole week, Butch wouldn't stop chasing and trying to kill her with a toilet!
This morning, trying hadn't been a 'try', anymore. She'd only just woken up, but he'd been waiting outside her room anyway. He'd grabbed her with his two friends, and then they'd stuffed her in the toilet like -like toilet paper!
She'd only just got away, and now she was stuck here in her dad's work room, hair soaked with toilet water, and elbows red and purple from where they'd slammed against the toilet's walls. Even though she hated it, all she could do was cry. It made her feel more scared than ever. If crying really did make things badder every time you did it, then next day, was Butch gonna come at her with six knives cause she cried like this? Was that how crying worked? Or was she just missing something again, like the others always said she did?
Marisa wouldn't be surprised if she was. A poster in a wall was making it pretty hard to forget. Seven letters, a lotta big words, and 40 points. Marisa couldn't count to 40, and she didn't know many words that were more than two sayings long, but she knew what 1 and intelligence meant, cause they haunted her when she slept.
"It's not as low as you think-" her dad's voice suddenly sounded around her just as he pressed something to her elbow. She blinked, blurry eyes going sharp as it started to burn. It was only a little less bad than the stove, and she had to bite her lip to keep from crying again.
"Your intelligence will grow as you get older. It's normal for it to be small right now."
"I want it to get bigger faster!" she whined, "that way I won't have to cry so much!"
If she got smarter, then maybe Butch and his friends wouldn't hurt her all the time! They always said they hated her cause she was stupid! -so that had to mean that if she fixed that, it'd all get better!
"-I'll have you know that you barely cry," he replied, voice heavy like when he scolded her, but right now not half as scary. It really reminded her of her blanket -warm and fluffy -so all the hurt would go away, "Butch would have cried from half of this. He cries during check ups, you know. I don't even do anything to the boy."
Then he slapped a bandaid on her, standing up. She got up to go behind him, but he didn't go to her room. He went forward to the wall, where the poster was hanging, and put his finger on the word with E.
She frowned, that was one she didn't know.
"It's Endurance," he explained, "N-Door-Ance."
"N Door Ants," she repeated, "what's the point?"
"Well, while you might have a one in this-" he put his finger on Intelligence, "you have a two in these-" he pointed at the A and S words, "and a three in this-" it was back at the E word, "-scores like that, at your age, are, quite honestly, incredible."
She stared.
"They're very very good scores," he explained, humming as he knelt down to her level, "so I don't think you have it bad, no matter what your charisma or intelligence may be. You don't have to be perfect, you just have to use what you have. If you want, you could be the strongest person in the vault."
His speech put stars in her eyes. Marisa started stretching her arms, thinking that maybe she'd have Grognak's muscles. She didn't.
But that wasn't what he'd said, was it. He'd said she could be strong -and that meant it wasn't sure. That meant it was a choice.
"Of course," he added, "that doesn't mean that I'll be letting you walk on those knees," with a loud noise, he stuck his arms around her and picked her up. Marisa sank into him, happy she wouldn't have to run behind on hurting feet.
"The way I see it," he said, walking out into the dark, "you can do one of two things. Either you can work on your intelligence to fit in, or you can focus on what makes you special.
No matter what you choose, I'll help you."
Again, his voice had taken on that nice feeling weight. Marisa fell asleep under it, and in the back of her mind, she thought that, really, it'd be nice to be different.
Math was hard, but running was fun. Spelling made her head hurt, but no one else could get up from a fall quicker. She didn't used to think much of that -but if it meant she could be like Grognak, she never wanted anything else.
So from then on, she lifted every weight she could, and took every blow she had to. She ran up and down the vault in her free time, dodging anyone she came across, and no matter how bad things hurt, she never, ever rested and never, ever cried. -Not cause she was scared of things getting worse, but cause she wanted to be stronger, and to prove it.
By the time she was eight, she was proud to report that, even when her dad did all that needle stuff, she didn't even half whine.
(Much later, she'd consider that the earliest sign for things going wrong.)
Chapter 2! If anyone read this have a good day, again. Chap 3 will be up soon, too!