"What's your n-ahh!" Curie shrieked mid-sentence, as the alcohol made contact with her wound.
A small smile appeared on Lily's face. Was she happy to see her suffering?
"Please, just be more careful."
"Fine." Lily grumbled, reluctantly pulling away the cotton. "But don't forget that this was your idea."
Curie gritted her teeth as the cotton lightly brushed against the wounds in her shoulder. The burning sensation was awful. No wonder so many wounds were left untreated in the Wasteland. Curie desperately searched for something, anything to take her mind off the pain.
"What's your name?"
A short pause followed by an even shorter answer.
"Lily."
"Ah! Like the flower! What a beautiful name!"
"The flower?"
Curie's smile twisted into a frown.
"Surely there are still Lilies on the surface? They're white, shaped like a star, with the stamen coming out from the middle…" Curie gestured awkwardly, trying to outline the flower's shape in the air. Lily shook her head.
"I've never seen a white flower."
"Never?" Curie's hands dropped to her side. Of course. This woman had grown up in this nuclear wasteland. Her heart sank at the thought of a little girl growing up in this world, without a drop of beauty to admire. Surrounded by all this cruelty and misery, was it any surprise that some of it had made its way inside her?
Curie came out of her thoughts to see Lily watching her carefully. She did that often, when she thought Curie wasn't looking. There was curiosity behind those blue-green eyes, as well as other emotions that Curie couldn't quite understand.
When Lily realized she'd been spotted, she quickly averted her eyes and coughed unconvincingly. Curie winced as the cotton ball returned, along with an uncomfortable amount of pressure.
"Stay still." Lily grunted, grabbing her arm roughly.
By the time the cleaning process was done, the sun was already halfway to the horizon. Evening sunlight streamed through the broken windows, the rich, golden rays serving as a reminder that nighttime wasn't far off.
Lily eased herself into the couch with a long sigh.
"You're staying here?" Curie called from the kitchen. She'd taken it upon herself to fix dinner for the two of them. So far, she'd managed to ruin a soup and short-circuit two hot-plates.
"It's too late to move now." Lily replied, pulling out one of the pink scraps of cloth she'd salvaged from the skirt. She popped open her revolver's cylinder, emptied the remaining four bullets onto a nearby coffee table, and began to meticulously clean. The velvety cloth left behind smooth, polished metal that gleamed in the fading evening light.
"What's your name?" Lily asked, sounding perfectly disinterested.
"I am Contagions Vulnerability Robotic Infirmary Engineer, designation Curie." She'd rehearsed that line over and over again until it was perfect. A good first impression was very important.
Cure was confident she hadn't made a mistake, but a quick glance at the couch showed that Lily's face had contorted into an expression of…confusion? Bewilderment?
"Curie?" Lily repeated, letting the name roll off her tongue. "And you're an engineer?"
"Yes! A robotic infirmary engineer, although as you can see, I'm no longer a robot!"
There it was again. That curious expression that made her second guess everything Curie said. The woman, Lily, chewed thoughtfully on her lip, her blue-green eyes glittering darkly in the sunlight.
"Engineer? Are you from a Vault?" She asked, turning her attention back her weapon.
"I am indeed, from a Vault." Curie confirmed with an appropriate nod of the head. "Vault 81, to be precise. How did you know?"
"You talk strange." Lily said simply, leaving Curie to fill the resulting gap in conversation.
"I confess, my speech patterns are somewhat unique. I was modified by Dr. Kenneth Collins in Vault 81." The explanation tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop herself. Too late, her hands flew to her mouth in a vain attempt to prevent the words from leaving.
Curie. If anyone ever finds out you're a Synth, it'll be my head.
But Mrs. Jennifer, I am not a Synth! You of all people should know this!
She was pacing now, clenching and unclenching her fists angrily. When she spoke, it was in a low, angry tone.
"You think anyone cares! We're putting you in a Synth body! And you're a damn robot!
She seemed to relent for a moment, taking a deep breath before choosing her words carefully.
"No one can know, Curie. Promise me this."
For a terrifying second, Lily was silent. Did she know? Did she suspect?
"Vault 81, huh? Why don't you have a Pip-Boy?"
Thank goodness. It seemed she simply ignored anything she didn't understand.
"I wasn't issued one. Perhaps I should have asked the Overseer?" Curie's mouth twisted into her best attempt at a grin.
Lily didn't even look up from her revolver.
"Pity. Would have liked to listen to some music."
"Ah, there is a wonderful Classical music station that I listen to sometimes. I personally prefer Beeth-"
"Curie?"
"Y-Yes?"
"Is something burning?"
Curie's eyes went wide as flames enveloped what was left of her second soup bowl.
In the end, Lily finished off the last of the Cram and Sugar Bombs for dinner while Curie watched with a mixture of curiosity and jealousy. Her own Minuteman rations were nutritious enough, but she secretly wanted to try other food. What were these taste buds for, if not to devour Pre-War delicacies, lick soup bowls clean and sample every type of meat available in the Commonwealth?
Perhaps not that last one. The thought of frying a Bloodbug or baking a Bloatfly still made her stomach churn.
"Lily, are you aware that you're limping?"
"You've got a wonderful pair of eyes." Lily snapped instantly, rolling her eyes. In annoyance? Anger?
Were all humans so difficult to read? Or was it just this one?
When in doubt, say something nice. That was a Curie original quote, and one that was yet to fail her.
"Your eyes are also marvelous." Curie smiled kindly. "With your permission, I'd like to take a DNA sample. I believe your unique eye-color might be a result of a rare genetic mutation."
"What do you mean?"
"What color are your mother's eyes?"
Lily stiffened somewhat; her eyes firmly focused on her bowl. Then she shrugged.
"Never knew my mother."
"Oh." Curie gasped, wondering if she'd been insensitive. "I'm so sorry!"
Lily grunted in acknowledgement but didn't offer any further clarification.
Curie wisely decided to return to the original topic. These conversations felt like performing surgery on a dancing patient. At any one point, Curie had no idea where she was or what she was doing. One wrong move could cost her this new relationship.
"Lily, I know it might be hard to believe, but I used to be a…doctor of sorts in Vault 81." Lily looked at her with renewed interest as she continued. "I can help you."
A Vault Doctor. Vault medicine was centuries ahead of anything available in the Wasteland. If there was any chance of getting her hip fixed, it would be in the hands of a doctor.
On the other hand, she did burn two bowls of soup.
There was no reason to take her at her word. Vault Doctor? Curie could very well be the Vault cook for all she knew.
But there was something about the way Curie spoke that made Lily believe her. Maybe it was how open she always was. Curie had left herself vulnerable plenty of times, even after Lily put a gun to her head. If this was all an act to get her to lower her guard, it was the most elaborate trap she'd ever seen.
Besides, with the way her hip was aching, Lily wasn't sure if she'd last another day. The pain was one thing, but the numbness was what terrified her. She was slowly losing control of her lower body, and it wouldn't be a surprise if she woke up unable to move her legs.
"Alright. Do your worst." Lily muttered, rolling over in the couch and burying her face in the cushions. She bit down hard on the cushion, ignoring the dry taste of dust in her mouth.
She was leaving herself completely vulnerable, and a part of her was telling her over and over again that she would deserve it.
Oh you so deserve it. Red's sinister voice whispered, a small smile on her lips.
Right. That part.
Instead of burying a knife in Lily's unprotected back, Curie jammed a needle in her shoulder. She gave the Med-X based anesthetic a few minutes to work, monitoring Lily to make sure there were no adverse reactions.
Curie's heart pounded in her chest as she pulled on her rubber gloves and uncovered a sterilized scalpel. The surgical kit had been a last-minute decision; Jennifer had insisted she bring it along in case she needed to perform a field surgery.
But not so soon! Curie took deep, steadying breaths until her hands stopped shaking. With one hand, she pulled up the raider's shirt, her heart fluttering with every inch.
A bullet was lodged in Lily's back. The edge of the object was just protruding out of her pale skin, the sinister black metal surrounded by angry, purple flesh. This wasn't an injury.
It was a miracle.
Firstly, the wound was uninfected, which meant she wouldn't have to cut away too much tissue. Secondly, and more importantly, the bullet hadn't entered Lily's body. She wouldn't even need to use a scalpel to remove it, a pair of tweezers would be more than enough.
Curie excitedly swabbed the entire area with alcohol before carefully positioning the scalpel. Her human hands were clumsy and awkward tools, but her brain had two hundred years of experience dissecting Molerats and analyzing samples.
In the end, it was a relatively simple procedure, although it still left Curie feeling drained. She carefully bandaged the injured area and administered a Stimpak before rolling off the couch and crashing to the floor. Too exhausted to celebrate her first surgery, or even to relocate, she fell asleep on the rug.