Author's Note:

First of all, a thank you to Mikoto for your review. It's hard to imagine its actually been more than a month since I last updated. A lot of it had to do with a busy work schedule and a bit of confusion on where to take the story. I spent a while writing down all the major plot points and editing previous chapters, in preparation for an eventual update. I'm really glad you found my story interesting. Now that the semester's coming to an end, I'll probably be updating more frequently.

Regards,

Principe

Knock. Knock Knock.

"Wait!" Lily snapped, as if she hadn't been waiting all day for that knock. She took one last look at the room. She'd snagged anything she could fit in her pockets, from the dusty bottlecap she'd found under the bed to the needle Curie had used on her arm. She didn't have much use for any of it, but that wasn't the point. She was taking her revenge on Tommy. Swiping a few sweaty strands of hair out of her face, she opened the door.

"Hiya Red. Mind if I come in?"

Lily took an involuntary step back. Tommy stepped forward to fill the space, shutting the door behind him. He was wearing one of his better suits, decorated with a neat, red bowtie.

"You look all dressed up." He scanned her from head to toe. "Were you planning on catching one of the fights?"

"Who's fighting?" She asked casually, fighting to keep her voice steady. Tommy didn't know about her plan.

"Oh it's a doozy." Tommy walked over to Lily's bed. The door was unguarded, only a few inches away. If she could just…

Stupid idea. Red's voice cut in. You won't be able to find your gun before Tommy gets you.

Tommy wasn't even watching her anymore. He idly turned pages in the book Curie had been reading, muttering to himself.

"Why are you here?"

Tommy clicked his tongue and put down the book.

"Can't a man enjoy a bit of good reading now and then?"

"You want the book? Take it."

Tommy paused for a second, sizing her up. Then he smiled. "Ah right. You can't read."

Lily crossed her arms and waited. After a few seconds of wandering the room, those dark eyes landed on her again.

"That girl of yours…"

"She's not my-"

"Alright, alright." Tommy waved her into silence. "That friend of yours. She's too good for you."

Lily blinked.

"Good to know. Anything else you want to tell me?"

"Probably one of my best employees." Tommy stroked his chin. "So polite and kind. They don't make them like that anymore."

"What are you talking about?"

"She came into my office today. To thank me." He shook his head and smiled, but not at her. His smile was unusually warm. It might have even been sincere.

"What for?"

"She had a wonderful time serving my customers." Tommy sat on the bed. "She learned so much from the experience."

"That's good for her…" Either Tommy knew, or he suspected. She inched towards the door.

"It is. Good for you, too." The ghoul examined his gnarled fingernails. "Apparently you've paid off your debt."

He knows. Red warned.

Obviously.

Kill him.

Her fingers were already sliding into her pocket, wrapping around the needle.

No. Not yet.

He'll kill you first.

Lily swallowed hard.

"I told you, Tommy. My sister's gonna pay you back."

"And I told you to stay put until she did."

"I'm here." She tapped her foot to make her point. "Staying put."

Tommy sighed.

"You know what?" He reached into his back pocket and pulled out her revolver. Lily backed up until she hit the wall. "It's not worth it. You're not worth it."

He tossed her weapon on the bed and rose to his feet.

"It's yours. You're free to leave."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that." Tommy confirmed, waving her towards the bed. She approached carefully, waiting for the walls to close up around her or the floor to drop out from under her feet. It was a trap, and Tommy wasn't even trying to hide it. She didn't relax until her fingers wrapped around her revolver's grip. Empty.

"Head to Goodneighbor. It'll take you about a day, so speak with Tim at the bar and grab some supplies."

"I don't have caps."

Tommy shook his head and waved. "It's on the house. Just get out of here."

There was a catch. There always was with Tommy. But after all the bad luck of the past week, she didn't feel like turning down a lifeline.

"T-Thank you, Tommy." Seemed like she owed everyone she met nowadays. Tommy, the General, Curie.

Curie.

"What about Curie?"

Tommy's grin showed far too many yellow teeth.

"What about her?"

"Where is she?"

"She…" he drummed out a rhythm on the bed. "…is entertainment."

Tommy took notice of her clenched fists.

"Don't get the wrong idea, Red. I've got standards." He waved a hand in the air, spelling out an invisible sign. "This is the Combat Zone after all."

"Where is she?"

"In the basement. Prepping."

"For what?" Lily cried, grip tightening on her revolver. "A fight?"

"A fight." He confirmed. "Thanks to the General's little tour, we've got a full house tonight. Your friend's going to put on quite a show for us."

"Bullshit." Lily took a step forward, pointing a shaky finger in his direction. "You and I both know she won't last a minute in there."

"Especially not against the fighter I've got lined up." Tommy nodded in agreement, then winced. "She won't be looking too pretty once we drag her out of there. But that's what the boys out there are looking for, little Lily. They like seeing something delicate, something pretty. They love seeing that thing getting smashed to pieces."

"Tommy, I'm warning you."

"Oh? Then consider me warned." He smirked, rising off the bed. "You owe me, Lil. I'm giving you a way out."

Lily's mind was a radstorm; emotions swirled this way and that, thoughts flitting just out of reach as she tried to desperately piece herself together.

Don't you dare. Red growled, as a stupid, suicidal plan began to form.

She saved me.

Won't matter if you die here.

Tommy was watching her closely, arms crossed. He smiled when she looked at him, as if he'd been listening to the conversation in her head.

"Come join the party. Or scurry out the door." He moved past her, talking over his shoulder as he went. They locked eyes for a second, and the friendly mask fell away, revealing a feral, hungry glare.

"But whatever you do, stay out of my business."

"Excuse me?"

"Shut it."

"Please? I'm sorry to bother you again."

"I said shut it."

"But I-"

The man spun around, slamming a baseball bat into the elevator gate before tossing it behind him. Curie flinched as the elevator rattled and shook. He glared at her through the quivering chain-link fence. Or atleast, she imagined he was glaring; for some reason the man was wearing a pair of dark aviator glasses.

Why did he need them underground?

That had been her first question, and her first mistake. As punishment, the man had yanked the baseball bat out of her hands. She still didn't know why she'd been given the bat in the first place. It probably wasn't a gift; although she would have loved to have a baseball bat to study, the one they'd given her had smelled of dried blood. The wood was cracked and splintered, with bits of bone and other, more unrecognizable chunks crammed into each split in the oak. Her stomach had churned uncomfortably when she looked at it, but she now that it was gone she felt vulnerable.

"….down they go? Will they get back up this time?" A faint voice echoed down the steps and through the basement. It sounded like Tommy's.

The man sighed, his muscles rippling. He turned to face her again, pipe gun levelled at her chest.

"What is it this time?" The sweltering heat of the basement made his bare chest glisten in the fluorescent light.

"How did you do that?" She pointed to the tattoos trailing down his arm. "Those marks?"

The man glanced at his arm, then at her. Despite all her practice, she couldn't decipher any of the emotion written across his face. His eyes were unreadable behind the dark lens.

"None of your business." He reached over the gate. "Now give me the helmet."

Curie looked down at the baseball helmet she was clutching tight to her chest. She hadn't dared put it on, curious though she was. Dried blood caked its insides, clinging to the bright-blue plastic like a fungus. Curie thought she could see actual fungus sprouting from the large crack that ran across the helm. Once again, she felt sick when looking at it. Once again, she felt helpless once she'd handed it over. She glanced up the elevator shaft, trying and failing to keep her heartbeat steady. What was up there?

"Not another word out of you." The man warned, as if he'd read her thoughts. "Or I'll start taking clothes."

He was happy. Curie could tell from the way he smiled, his lips parted to reveal broken and rotten teeth. Her thoughts immediately turned to toothpaste. Nearly a week into her life as a human and she still hadn't brushed her teeth!

At the Boylston Club she'd looked over her teeth in a dusty, cracked mirror in the bathroom. A small nose, gaunt cheeks and a pair of tired gray eyes had stared back at her. Her teeth were even and white(a good color, for teeth), but would they stay that way? Her thoughts turned to the woman whose body she now controlled. Had she been proud of her teeth? Had she spent her nights doing what Curie was doing now, prodding them with her tongue to check for cavities? What if she was still haunting some corner of the brain, hiding among the lesser used synapses, influencing her very thoughts?

She'd pulled away from the mirror, trying to keep her heartbeat steady. Could traces of her body's previous occupant be influencing her decisions? She stumbled out of the bathroom, nearly tripping over an armchair.

Dr. Amari had assured her the subject was functionally brain dead. The burly woman with sad eyes, Glory, had told her Daisy had been silent for two months. Miss Jennifer had called the woman on the table a soulless synth before storming outside. None of them had told her what to do if she began to lose control of her adopted body. Where would her consciousness end up if her brain's real owner reappeared to kick her out?

She pondered for a while, tapping her chin like she'd seen humans do when they were thinking. She came to a conclusion. If she just took care of her teeth, maybe the other consciousness she was now sure existed would be satisfied. This led to the obvious question.

Where would I find a good toothbrush and some paste?

She knew better than to ask. Tommy had given her the black and white flannel shirt she was wearing and he'd been so helpful to the two of them. She didn't want to disappoint him.

"..nobody….Cait's done it! A damn psy…..who's next?" Her curiosity turned to the disembodied voice from above. She was positive it was Tommy.

"What's he talking about?" She wondered, her hands flying to her mouth a second too late. The man grinned, his hand reached over the gate.

"I'm so sorry!" She pulled away from the gate and the man's smile faded. "It was an accident!"

"Get over here, bitch." He growled, rattling the gate with his other hand. "Tommy's orders."

"Please, I-" Curie's pleas died in her throat as the man levelled his pistol at her.

"Now."

With trembling hands, she began to unbutton her shirt. The man watched her every move, tongue flicking across his lips ever so often. She was halfway done, her hands now shaking uncontrollably. She felt sick, and more vulnerable than ever. In the corner of her eye, she spotted movement.

"Lily!"

The redhaired woman sprinted out of cover, baseball bat in hand. The man turned too slow; the bat connected to the back of his head with a sickening crunch. He crumpled instantly, gun clattering out of his twitching fingers.

"Oh Lily, you should be in bed!"

Lily doubled over, panting hard. Curie watched through the fence, her concern growing as her patient struggled to catch her breath. What a mess their plan had become!

When Lily finally looked up, her face was red. Her voice came out in a low rasp.

"What're you…" she heaved a breath. "What're you doing? Put your shirt on!"

Curie hastily buttoned up her shirt while Lily checked the man on the floor.

"Is he alive?" Curie wondered, as Lily picked up the baseball bat. The end was stained red, adding another layer of blood to its dark-red coat.

"Maybe." Lily grunted as she swung the bat, connecting again with the back of the man's head. Curie gasped as something crunched, and Lily threw away the dripping weapon. "Not anymore."

"Lily! You…" She grew pale and the nausea grew worse. "You killed him!"

"I know. Where's the key?" She knelt by the man, rifling through his pockets.

Curie had seen people die before. She'd watched Lily gun down the two raiders that had attacked them. In her robot form, she'd killed many attackers who'd threatened her or Miss Jennifer. She'd always hated it, but never as much as she did now.

The man had been unconscious. What Lily had done was murder.

"Tommy wants you to go up there and fight." Lily explained, still searching the man's pockets. "They'll kill you."

"F-fight?"

"Yeah." She punched the corpse in frustration. "Where's the damn key?"

"I-I don't know." Curie swallowed. "Lily, you murdered that man."

"Tell me where the key is or shut up."

Curie stayed silent, but her mind raced. Anger, fear, relief, they came one by one and all at once, an unending barrage of feelings that made it impossible for her to think.

"It's the moment you've all been waiting for! As you've requested, the serving girl's being served up to Cait!"

"Fuck." Lily picked up the bat. "Stand back."

Curie scampered to the far end of the elevator as Lily began to swing at the lock. The chains rattled and shook but the lock remained firm. After a few more seconds of swinging, she tossed the bat aside.

"Alright, listen to me. I want you to lean on the back and use your feet to kick it open."

Curie nodded.

"Did this guy carry a gun?"

"Y-Yes." Curie braced her back against the far end of the elevator and pushed the gate with all her might. Her feet scrambled for purchase on the chains and she grunted with effort.

"Where the fuck is it?" Lily ran a hand through her hair, kicking the man's arm out of her way as she searched. Their window of opportunity was disappearing, and she still needed to go to Tommy's office to get her stuff. Her search grew more frantic when she heard the elevator sputter to life.

"Lily!"

"I know!" She rolled the man onto his back. There, nestled between his arm and his waist was the pistol. "Found it!"

She was too late. Curie's face appeared at the fence for a moment before the elevator lifted her out of sight. Lily could hear echoes of the audience's cheers as the stage's trapdoor opened above.

And then, silence.

From his position at the microphone, Tommy could see everything that went on in the Combat Zone. He could see rows of raiders, louder and more frenzied than they'd been in months. They filled the front section of seats, chugging beers and making bets while in the arena, raiders fought for their lives. Up above them in the rafters, raider bosses sipped on his finest wine while making light conversation with each other. To them, the fights weren't important. Tommy's Combat Zone was neutral ground, a place to cut deals and make alliances that would never have happened outside. Giving their raiders some entertainment was a convenient bonus.

When the General burst into the Combat Zone last year and erased his entire audience, she'd also given Tommy plenty of time to think. Well first, she'd put a gun to his head. The barrel, still hot from the gunfight, had sizzled on his dry skin. He vaguely remembered the smell of burning flesh adding to the stench of spilled blood, making his stomach churn out of disgust and fear. More vivid were the details of the woman's face, the way her dark eyes flashed when he tried to speak. The way anger twisted her eyebrow and pursed her lips.

He'd always been able to talk himself out of trouble. As a child, he'd managed to convince a Minuteman to give him ten caps, which he'd used to hitch a ride on a caravan into the city and away from his father's drunken rage. After Red had found her fortune at the Federal Ration Stockpile, he got her to invest in the Combat Zone in exchange for a partnership. His tongue had solved so many of his problems, and yet it failed him when he needed it the most.

It was a woman in a red coat, who Tommy had later found out was Piper Wright, that saved his life.

"Blue! He's unarmed!"

"You saw what he was doing. Throwing those people in cages to fight to the death! It's sick."

"Blue, they make caps for each fight. They weren't forced to do it."

The woman whirled around, mercifully moving the gun away from Tommy's face.

"And those people outside? Tied up and hooded, left to die?"

The woman in the red coat looked nervous. Tommy half-expected her to give up and let him be executed. In her shoes, he wouldn't have thought twice.

But instead, she took a deep breath before reaching over to touch the General's shoulder.

"The world's changed so much, Blue. Stuff like this is normal now."

"It shouldn't be."

"It shouldn't. We need to change it." She nodded towards Tommy. "But not like this."

"If he's dead, someone will come to take his place. Someone who'll know better."

"If you kill him, only two things will change, Blue. He'll be a corpse, and you'll be a murderer."

Tommy's voice finally found him. He grunted first, out of surprise. But when both pairs of eyes turned to him, he spoke.

"Now that you've killed everyone here, I don't have much reason to stick around anyways." He hesitated. "I've just got a few things to take care of, and then I'll be out of your way. I promise."

The 'things he had to take care of' was really just one thing. Cait. Now that he'd been sent into early retirement, the addict would cause him more problems than she was worth in caps. Thankfully, without the gun to his head Tommy was as silver-tongued as ever, and he managed to escape the encounter without Cait's contract and with his life.

"Now that's a finisher right there!" Tommy cried, as the crowd went wild. In the ring, Cait was on her knees, arms wrapped around her stomach. The raider who'd delivered the blow held his bat up in the air.

The man he had guarding the arena door turned towards him, waiting for the signal. Not many of the arena fights ended in death and when they did, it was usually an accident. As much as his audience loved blood, a dead fighter wasn't worth a thing to anyone. Cait had lost plenty of fights in the arena, only to come return the next day and earn the caps back for him.

Tommy shook his head and the guard turned back to watch the fight. Right now, Cait was expendable. Right now, she looked nothing like the wild, scrappy warrior who'd made him rich. Her arms were little more than mop handles, bones wrapped in skin and muscle. Her movements were sluggish, her punches were desperate. When her opponent grabbed her by the hair and yanked her to her feet, she let out a cry of pain. The old Cait would have broken the man's arm and stabbed him with his own bones. This Cait squirmed and writhed in the man's grip while the audience laughed and jeered.

Maybe it was pity that finally moved his hand towards the trapdoor control. Tommy doubted it. The crowd was at peak excitement, the ground vibrating with their cheers. He needed to extend the banquet, ride the wave a little longer. Lucky for him, Lily Tourette had brought him the perfect main course.

""It's the moment you've all been waiting for! As you've requested, the serving girl's being served up to the Combat Zone!"

She was a tiny thing, the newcomer to the arena. He remembered watching her serve his boys drinks a few days ago. To them, she'd been little more than a fresh young face to grope and grab. Hands had reached for her chest, run down her back to settle in places that were supposed to be his. He'd made a note of each of their faces, committing them to memory. There'd be time for revenge later, once he had a proper gang at his feet and her by his side.

To him, she was something more. He'd seen it in the brightness of her smile, the roundness of her face. The way she practically floated from table to table, without a care in the world. He'd seen women who acted like her, who let men feel what they wanted to feel, touch what they wanted to touch. But he never thought he'd see the real deal, a true innocent.

He leaned forward in his seat, watching as the serving girl backed up to the corner of the arena. She was trembling, the poor thing. His men had their orders; they'd only intervene if it looked like the girl was going to die. He wanted to see her fight and lose, see her cling to the cage and beg for mercy. Then, he'd appear as her savior and she would love him for it. He'd bandage her wounds, kiss her pain away, and above all, keep her safe.

On the other side of the arena, Cait took advantage of the distraction to twist free of the raider's grip. The man's angry snarl managed to reach the rafters, even over the wave of boos from the audience. As he reached for her, Cait whirled around, connecting the sharp point of her elbow to his chin. Reeling from the blow, the man couldn't stop her from reclaiming her bat. He found his footing just in time to catch her vicious swing with his chin. Blood and teeth flew across the arena and the man dropped like a sack.

"Yeowch! That's a lesson for all of you folks! Don't ever get confident around Cait." Tommy cried over the audience's booing. "Now let's see what she can do against our poor little barmaid."

From his vantage point in the rafters, he was the first to see the second trapdoor open. For once he ignored the girl, even as Cait lurched towards her. He kept his focus on the trapdoor that shouldn't be opening. What's your game, Tommy?

Red hair. His chest tightened. It wasn't possible.

"Is that Red?" one man whispered to his left.

"Tourette?" a hulking man grunted in surprise. He was the only one in the rafters wearing armor, rusty metal plates soldered together in an approximation of power armor. Sinjin. "Let's see if she's as tough as they say."

Nervous muttering and weak chuckles answered him. Sinjin was from the South. He and his Forged raiders didn't know Red Tourette like they did.

"I've been looking for new members for the Forged. She can be my second in command, if she likes."

He wasn't listening to the fool anymore. No one was. Everyone's eyes were fixed on the woman with red hair who'd appeared in the arena. The woman they thought was Red Tourette. The woman he'd shot in the back last week.

Lily.

Tower Tom smiled to himself. He'd come here looking for entertainment. He'd found a lifeline instead.

Tommy got over his surprise the moment bullets started flying. The first two thudded into Cait's back, toppling her instantly. She'd barely hit the ground before Lily turned the gun on him. He only had a second to dive for cover before she fired, splintering the stage where he'd been standing. The arena guard sprinted towards the controls for the machine gun turrets surrounding the cage.

"Wait!" Tommy croaked, rising to his knees. If Lily died here on his stage, in front of all these raiders, Red would skin him alive. She'd probably bring back the same audience to watch, too. He'd have to solve this the diplomatic way. "I'm coming out!"

He rose with his hands in the air. The raiders in the audience were tossing empty injectors, beer bottles, whatever they had on hand at the cage. Lily ignored them all.

"Get me out of here, Tommy."

"Shut up and fight!" a man called from the front row.

"Hey Tommy, give me back my money!"

"Who the fuck is that?"

The audience continued to hurl insults at the two of them.

"The people want you to fight." He replied into the microphone. The audience reacted as he'd predicted, roaring with approval.

"I don't care. Open this door."

Tommy had gone to great lengths to make sure no one knew Lily was here. After he'd found her in the park, he'd brought her to her room himself. He'd made sure she never had a reason to leave the room. Nobody could know Red Tourette's sister was in his basement. That kind of bargaining chip had to be revealed at the opportune moment.

This was not the opportune moment. Under the arena's spotlights, Lily kept the pipe pistol trained on him. He would never know who was the first to say it, but soon enough whispers were travelling through the crowd.

Tourette.

"That's Red?"

"She was here just a few days ago, wasn't she?"

"That's not her! That's her sister!"

"Holy crap, that's Lily Tourette in there!" another exclaimed.

"Bullshit. I heard Tower Tom capped her ass."

"I'm telling you, that's her!"

"Does Red know?"

While Lily continued to yell, raiders slowly began to slink towards the betting table with fistfuls of caps.

"Thirty caps on the redhead." A man slurred, seemingly unaware that there were two redheads.

"Fifty for the Tourette."

"Seventeen on Cait!"

Tommy's excitement over the crowd forming at the betting table was short lived; rumors were spreading. A general unease seemed to have infected the raiders; worried glances and nervous tics were affecting even the raider bosses. It wasn't out of pity for the wide-eyed teenager, caged in with the fiercest fighter the Combat Zone had ever seen.

It was fear.

Red Tourette was by far one of the most unstable, vengeful gang leaders in the Commonwealth. And anyone who knew the first two things about her, also knew that she loved her sister above anything else. Enough to start a war to get her back.

Slowly, one by one, the raiders stopped jeering and cackling. Some did so out of fear, while others were simply curious to see what happened next. But they shut up just the same, leaving a flabbergasted Tommy scratching what remained of his nose. He knew which way the wind was blowing. Tommy opened his mouth to speak. He needed to apologize, to cut his losses before things went out of control. But something held his tongue. A flutter of movement behind the redhead.

"Lily!"

Cait, still on the floor, brought her fists down hard on Lily's shin. With a cry of pain, Lily dropped to her knees. Cait was on her in a flash, leaping into action like a hungry feral. She was frothing at the mouth, looking more like a wild mongrel than a human. As she held the surprised woman in place with her knees, she began pummeling her stomach with her fists. Punch after punch connected with Lily's stomach as she squirmed under the fighter's weight.

The crowd cheered when Cait landed a jab on Lily's lip, drawing first blood. Lily wriggled and kicked her way out of Cait's grasp. She scrambled towards the abandoned pipe gun, but Cait was quicker.

"Ya cheeky shite!" Cait raged, latching onto the redhead's feet and yanking her backwards. "I'll teach ya to shoot me in the back!"

Tommy winced with every blow Cait landed on Lily's chest. The fight was over before it even began. The crowd didn't seem to mind that one of the fighters wasn't putting up a fight. They seemed to have forgotten Curie, who had backed up against the cage and whose cries were drowned out by their screams for more. His little bird's fists were soaked red. He quashed any regrets he had and grabbed the mic.

"Looks like our new challenger's been knocked off her feet. Shouldn't have brought a gun to a fistfight!" He laughed, and the audience laughed with him.

Lily's eyes lolled around in her head, occasionally landing on one of the arena's blinding spotlights. When she tried to raise her hands to block the light, she found they were pinned to her side. And then another punch would land, her vision would grow blurry and her eyes would begin to close. A face flitted in and out of view, framed by wild, red hair. For a moment, Lily was convinced it was her sister, slapping her awake.

The longer you sleep, the longer someone has to cut your throat. She'd whispered into Lily's ear, before cuffing her behind the ears. Now get the fuck out of bed.

All the emotions she'd carefully buried over the last two weeks were threatening to resurface, sapping what little control she still had over her weakening limbs. A paralyzing fear was starting to seep into her bones, followed by a flood of shame and guilt. Even now, she was still searching, clawing, for a way out. Looking for any opportunity to escape death, no matter how cowardly.

Spineless. Gutless. I should have fed you to the molerats. Red's snake-like voice slithered through the cracks in her defenses. You were always dead weight.

Lily moaned, spit flying from her lips. Her hands scrabbled for purchase on the arena floor, trying to escape from under Cait. Her opponent relented, rising to her feet. Free of her weight, Lily began to crawl away. She made it all of four inches before a vicious kick aimed at her stomach brought her back down.

"Tourette bitch!"

"Get up you worthless whore!"

Die on your feet, pathetic girl.

Lily curled into a ball, hiding her shameful, tear-stricken face from the raiders and the soulless bitch that kept kicking her while she begged and pleaded.

Please Red, make it stop. Please. Please. She sobbed as she rocked back and forth. Please, I can't take this. I'm not as strong as you.

Cold, clammy hands wrapped around her neck, dirty fingernails digging into her skin. Her cries turned to croaks as her windpipe slowly, inevitably gave way under her attacker's inhuman strength. Gaunt eyes, hollowed cheeks hovered above, watching the life drain out of her.

A dark-haired missile flew across the arena, her high-pitched scream audible even over the crowd. Tommy watched, open-mouthed, as Curie threw herself at Cait, tackling her off of Lily's chest. Lily rolled over and puked, her stomach screaming in agony with every heave.

"A-And the serving girl's entered the fight!"

The raiders were going wild. In the far corner Tommy's bookie was scribbling down names and putting up fresh bets for the crowd forming at his table.

"Seven to three for Cait gouging out an eyeball! Two to one on the serving girl losing teeth!"

Cait's surprise wore off quickly, and she grabbed the slapping, scratching, kicking Curie around the waist and took her to the ground. In her prime, Cait had knocked raiders out while they were still standing, posing as they fell to the ground unconscious. Now, her lungs pumped desperately for air as she kept her attacker's arms pinned. She barely had the strength to throw a punch.

"Looks like Cait's giving us a show tonight!"

She had to go on. If she lost, Tommy wouldn't give her any Pyscho. What he gave her was already far too little for a lifelong addict like her. If she didn't even get that…

Her quivering, bleeding fingers reformed into fists. Below her, the dark-haired woman had stopped struggling. There was pity in her eyes.

What a sad pile of bones you've turned into, Cait. People don't get second chances in the Wasteland. You got one, and you wasted it.

"Fuck you." She slapped the woman, hitting her hard enough to make her eyes roll. Her bottom lip began to tremble, a red handprint appearing on the skin of her cheek.

Vault 95 can cure addictions, Cait. It was Jennifer's voice now, cold and dispassionate. But it can't cure your condition.

I'm not proud of it, ya know? But they sold me into slavery. Given another chance, I'd do it all over again.

You were rotten long before you stuck yourself full of that shit. We all sin, and we all repent in our own ways.

I-I don't understand.

I didn't think you would, Cait. Maybe you'll understand this. When I wake up tomorrow, I don't want to see your face. Not now, not ever.

"W-wait!" Cait cried, reaching out. The woman with dark hair watched her with concern. "I'm sorry! I made a mistake!"

An arm wrapped around her neck. She allowed it to drag her off of the woman and onto the ground.

We all repent. Jennifer's words echoed in her ears. When the first of the blows landed, she didn't fight back. And when a needle was jammed into her chest, she accepted it with a sigh.

The bat felt heavy, too heavy in her blood-slicked hands. Her throat throbbed and just thinking about her abdomen triggered a jolt of pain that nearly took her to the ground. But she still managed to smile at the raider lying on the ground. One of her eyes were swollen shut, and she could see where the needle had been thrust into her chest.

But the bitch was still breathing.

She raised the bat above her head.

"Fuck. You."

"Lily no!"

Lily brought the bat down with all her remaining strength.

The swing connected solidly with Cait's abdomen, shattering her ribcage.

The fighter gasped for air, mouthing soundless screams of agony as bright-red blood spluttered out of her ruby-red lips.

"-and give it up for your winner! Lily Tourette!" Tommy's voice called on the speakers, to a mostly ecstatic crowd.

The world was spinning around Lily Tourette. The stunned raiders, Tommy's boisterous announcements, the arena floor, layered in red. Her hands, the floor, the cage walls.

Red, Red, Red.

Lily hit the ground before the first claps reached her ears.