Shadows flitted in and out of Lily's sight.
A dash of black. A flash of gray.
A desperate cry, an angry shout.
Soft, something soft pressed against her lips.
A hint of warmth, a whiff of something sweet.
Then, cold and darkness again.
Pressure, unbearable pressure in her chest.
Water, cold and pure, dripping between cracked lips.
Then the softness, then the pressure.
A frazzled mop of black hair, a concerned pair of gray eyes.
Pressure again, even more pressure on her screaming chest.
Lily gasped and spluttered to life just as Curie leaned over for another mouth-to-mouth treatment. The unfortunate woman was showered in droplets of spittle, water and blood when Lily's eyes flew open. The raider's chest heaved with exertion and her legs spasmed wildly as a bottle of water was forcefully pressed to her lips. She drank greedily, latching onto it with both hands, not daring to breathe until she'd dampened the raging wildfire in her gut.
Her glassy eyes took a moment to focus on Curie's face.
"Drink." Curie whispered, her voice soft but firm. Lily chose not to argue, gulping down another mouthful of water. The cool liquid cleared her head a little, but it barely dented the knot of agony coiling in her stomach, making her want to hurl.
"Red?" Lily croaked, pushing away the bottle. Curie shook her head.
"Do you remember me? My name is Curie." Curie explained, searching her eyes for signs of brain damage.
"Yeah. Yeah, I remember." She shifted slightly, gasped. "Where am I?"
"We're still in the Combat Zone. This is your room." Curie explained.
"I'm not dead yet, then." Lily remarked drily.
Curie nodded. "After you fell in the ring, Tommy ordered me to bring you here." Her voice wavered slightly. Even in the dim light, Lily could see the dark circles around her eyes. "You were stable for a while, but then you went into cardiac arrest. You were dead for two minutes."
Lily groaned; the pounding in her temple was growing worse.
"Then that's the third time you've saved me." Lily muttered.
"I owe you too." Curie said graciously. "You saved me from the ghouls, and also from those raiders."
"Three and two." Lily said simply, bringing up the appropriate number of fingers. "Three is bigger than two."
"That is correct." Curie replied with an approving nod.
"So I owe you one." Lily muttered, sitting up on her bed. "How do we get back to even?"
"We will speak of this later. When you are well."
"Don't think I'll ever feel well. Feel like I swallowed a Deathclaw whole."
Curie laughed, a pleasant sound that brightened up the room. Lily found herself smiling as well.
"What about Tommy? He's alright?"
"Very busy, I think. But he wasn't injured."
"Maybe we should go rectifly that." Lily suggested, only half joking.
"Rectifly?" Curie asked, brow dipping in confusion. Lily's pale face reddened to match the color of her hair.
"Y-Yeah. Fix it."
"The word is 'rectify'." Curie corrected.
"I came back from the dead, ok? Give me a break." Lily snapped. Curie's smile grew wider, making her even more uncomfortable.
Speaking of uncomfortable…
"W-When I was out, did you do something to me?" Lily's normally confident voice flickered ever so slightly like a candle faced with a gentle breeze. Her eyes shifted, refusing to meet Curie's cool gray gaze.
"I saved your life." Curie offered.
"Not that!" She cried, looking even more flustered. "Did you kiss me?"
"I gave you mouth-to-mouth." Curie explained. "I forced air through your lips to give you air. Your lungs weren't working properly."
"Because I was dead." Lily concluded; her voice thick with relief. "I guess that's fine then." she muttered.
"They are very similar. But when kissing you must do this," She puckered her lips, pushing them out as far as they would go. "and make these sucking sounds."
She then proceeded to make a series of noises so strange and fascinating that Lily watched, transfixed, for what seemed like an eternity. Her tongue ran across her own lips, mouth suddenly growing wet. But when Curie shifted a little closer, the spell broke.
"I get it!" Lily cried, backing up until her back hit the wall.
"It is very fun. But in mouth-to-mouth, you must blow." Her lips puckered up for another demonstration.
"I said I get it!"
Curie smiled. She was still getting used to all the nuances that came with human contact. A needle in the arm or a Stimpak to the chest, those were perfectly acceptable. Some patients got touchy near the stomach, and many outright refused treatment below the waist. But the lips…
There was something very odd about the lips. Lily's were pink and glistening, often pressed into an icy frown or a hard, thin line. But they'd felt so soft when pressed against her own, fluttering involuntarily as air flowed into her lungs. And for a fleeting second between the panic and despair, a new emotion had appeared. A fluttering in her stomach, a light stirring of the heart for which she had no name.
As she watched Lily now, that emotion seemed to grow stronger. A burning curiosity. A sudden desire to know more, to understand the unusual importance of those otherwise mundane facial features. Curie found herself leaning forward. Closer.
"Just…don't try anything." Lily warned, with a ghost of a smile to soften a surprisingly gentle shove.
Curie blinked.
"Got it?" Lily asked, searching her eyes.
Curie nodded vigorously. "Unless I need to save your life, my lips will stay right here."
"Good." Lily muttered, before reaching under the pillow for her revolver. "Now let's go meet Tommy."
"Now?" Curie moved to place a hand on her shoulder, gently pushing her back into bed. "You are not well."
Lily sank back into the sheets, her aching muscles only too willing to embrace the mattress. The adrenaline of her sudden awakening was wearing off, stacking more and more pain onto her weakening consciousness. An hour, maybe two she thought, as Curie pulled the blanket up over her chest.
"Could you read me something?" She croaked as bolts of agony began cracking through her skull. "W-would take my mind off the pain."
Curie's face lit up.
"Of course!" She turned around to rummage through her pack. "I have the dictionary."
Lily sighed, letting her eyes close to the sound of rustling pages. Curie's musical voice chimed in a few seconds later.
"Albumen. A soluble protein." She began, as swirls of darkness descended on Lily's feverish mind. "Albumenize…"
"Worthless." Tommy muttered, pouring himself a large glass of whiskey.
"Please." The figure in the corner rasped, her voice clicking and rattling unnaturally.
"Ah yes!" Tommy chuckled. "The mighty Cait finds her voice, and the first thing she wants is a dose of Psycho."
"Tommy, I'm begging ya. It hurts."
"How long has it been? A week? Two weeks?" Tommy grunted to himself. "Surprised you haven't blown your brains out yet."
"Tom-"
"Shut it, bird." He snapped. "I'm talking."
Silence. Tommy swirled his whiskey, chuckling to himself.
"Remember last year? When that blue bitch came a-knocking and wiped out every raider in this place?" He asked. No reply, so Tommy kept going.
"I do. I remember seeing the two of you waltz on out of here, chuckling like old pals." He smiled. "We all heard the rumors. 'Cait's gone clean.' 'Cait's working for the Minutemen.'" The smile disappeared.
"Cait, the junkie bitch, commanding Minutemen? A Vault that cures any addiction? What sort of idiot would believe that crock?" He took a sip from his drink, glancing at the woman on the ground before continuing.
"Must have been quite the vault, considering you were back here in two months, begging me for another hit of psycho. Still the same old addict, except now you're losing fights."
He finally turned to face the shivering redhead, meeting her pleading green eyes with cold, brutal indifference.
"You were a slave when I found you. A pit dog on its last legs, begging for a merciful death." His face turned dark. "Funny thing is, now I'm in the same spot."
"I'll fight harder next time. I swear. Just…" Cait trailed off, her head drooping towards the ground. "Just give me more. Three stabs and I swear I'll tear her head off."
He reached over to pat her head, running gentle fingers through the tangled muss of copper hair. Smiled.
"You used to be a good listener, Cait." His fingers tightened into a fist, yanking her towards him, making her gasp. "Be a good bird and listen now, will ya?"
She nodded, eyes clenched shut, pale throat exposed. Quiet. Submissive. How you always should have been.
He let go of her hair, wiped his hands on the desk before picking up his glass.
"Two hundred raiders were in the arena last night. We made a fortune on the drinks alone. The fights, those were just…" he waved his hand "teasers. A little taste of blood to keep the rowdy ones happy."
Cait mumbled something soft, under her breath. Tommy flicked his eyes over to his door. Each of his guards had a two hundred cap bonus and strict orders not to come anywhere near his office today. Didn't need any witnesses.
"And if Lily Tourette decided to join in, who was I to stop her? What could a good businessman do besides making sure her fight was as profitable as it could be?" Tommy's head tilted towards Cait. "Nobody cares about business anymore, bird. Raiders, Minutemen, even that woman they call General, they're all out there fighting, killing, hanging, dying. All the shit falls on me, and I'm just making caps."
Cait said nothing, only listened. Her head continued its slow descent towards the ground, her breath coming in short, sticky wheezes. If her senses were still intact, she might have sensed a hint of malice creeping into his voice. If her glazed, unfocused eyes were still seeing clearly, she might have seen his left hand deftly slip into his desk drawer.
"You kill the girl." He shrugged. "It happens. Red can't expect me to protect someone who walked right into the arena in front of two hundred witnesses."
That wouldn't be enough. Not even close to enough. He thought, as he watched Cait fight to keep her eyes open. He'd seen psycho addicts in Goodneighbor back alleys that looked better than her. Pale, clammy skin, listless eyes. A living corpse.
"You don't know Red Tourette like I do, Cait. It wouldn't be enough." Six rounds in the chamber. "She'd be in my office, screaming for blood. Somebody would have to die, slowly and painfully, before she'd even think about letting it go. And I've got a few good years left."
If Cait was still human, she might have recoiled in fear when the barrel of Tommy's revolver glinted in the dim lamplight.
"So I'd hand you over to her. She'd kill you, of course." He searched her eyes for a reaction. "But you were losing me caps, bird."
Nothing. No indication she'd even heard him, much less understood what he was saying.
"Lily was too. Her with her Bunker Hill medicine and you with your psycho. And if you'd gone in there and killed her, I'd have dropped two birds with one stone."
He grinned. "Get it bird?"
A shiver shook through her body, the wheezing growing more intense. She still wasn't looking at him, but her fingers were scratching and scraping the floor.
"Anyways, you failed. Didn't kill her, didn't even have the decency to die. Which means I'm still losing caps, paying for her treatment and yours." He shook his head, eying the revolver. "When you came back to me that night, I should have sent you away. Should have thrown you some caps and locked the door. But I took you in. Even after you left me here, alone, I didn't have the heart to do that to you."
His showman's voice, the pride of his existence, was starting to waver. He raised the revolver.
"Never bite the hand that feeds you. Every wild mongrel from here to Quincy knows that." Tommy muttered, his hands starting to shake.
"Should have capped you the second you came back here. Should have handed you over to the raiders." He whispered, fingering the trigger.
"Hey there Tommy!" a cheery voice called, making him jump in his seat. The revolver nearly slipped out of his grip when he spotted the figure at the door.
"Am I interrupting something?" Lily asked.
Tommy shook his head, letting the gun drop to the floor.
"Nothing at all, Lily." He said, gesturing to a chair. "Have a seat."
"No thank you."
"Would you like a drink?"
"No thank you." She repeated, leaning on the door frame.
She looked good, for a corpse. And Tommy had been almost certain she was one, when he'd inched closer to her body lying on the arena floor to see the bruises, the busted lip, the rolled-up eyes and red, parted lips. With the fight over, the Combat Zone had grown silent while Curie knelt at her side. Gave him some time to think about what was coming next.
He'd let the crowd get to him, let their frenzied excitement over seeing a new challenger overcome his better judgement. The fight should have ended the moment Lily walked in. Now she was hurt or dead, and he'd be facing Red's fury all by himself.
Tommy took a sip to calm his nerves before sitting down.
"Part of me really wants to kill you." Straight to the chase then.
"In that case, I'm glad you haven't listened to it." Tommy smiled weakly. "I prefer being alive."
"And the only reason you are alive is because my sister likes it that way."
Tommy's brow furrowed, the only indication her reply had unnerved him.
"You've been speaking to your sister? How?"
"No. But I know she likes your caps. Likes them enough to keep your wrinkly ass alive."
"Good." He took another long sip, casting a glance at the revolver shaking in her hand. "Then we're agreed. I'm staying alive."
The look she gave him sent a shudder down his spine, making him wish he'd kept the gun. A wide smile spread across her face, showing an unnatural number of teeth.
"I want supplies. As many as I need. And you're bumping up my sister's cut."
Tommy nodded. She was talking business, something he could understand.
"I can make it thirty percent."
Her brow rose.
"Thirty-five, I meant. Booze and chems on the house, whenever your sister graces us with her presence." He held his arms wide open. "It's a good deal, Lil. I've got to make a living."
After a pause that felt like an eternity, she nodded.
It wasn't a good deal. Wasn't even close to one. She could've asked him to jump into the river headfirst and he'd be stripping off his suit and holding his breath. An agonizing descent into toxic waters would beat anything Red would offer him when she saw what'd happened to her sister under his roof.
Lucky for him, she didn't have the same talent for sniffing out weakness as her sister. Luckier still, he had something he could use to sweeten the deal.
"Let me get something." Tommy offered, hastily sidling behind his desk. Lily watched with narrowed eyes as he fumbled with the safe combination. Her eyes lit up when she saw it.
"My Pip-Boy!"
"One of the raiders racked up a hell of a debt at the tables. Paid it off with this."
Lily, who was in the middle of strapping the computer on, paused to scowl at him.
"You were hiding it."
"Hey now, I didn't know it was yours. Besides, the damn thing's broken."
Lily glanced at the screen.
"Where's the map?" She asked. "There should be a map here."
"Told you. It's broken."
"−news, the big bad of the Boston Common has finally gone down. That's right folks, just in case you've been sitting in a Vault for the last few days, the General has killed old Swan out by the river. Now before you pop on your beach hats and head out for a sightseeing tour, be advised the city is still at an alert level of four. It's raider season in downtown people, and anybody heading that way better pack some iron with their RadAway! On to the−"
"The radio works!" Lily cried, swapping through the channels.
"−adio seventeen. Now, a word−"
"−ever understand what people see in her. Hanging people in broad dayli−"
"−Mystery! You were behind this!"
"Oh poor detective, late again. The Mayor's long gone."
"Where did you take him, vixen?"
The scars running down Lily's face twisted as her mouth began to move, silently mouthing the next few lines of dialogue. A smile spread across her face, and Tommy finally allowed himself to breathe.
"So whaddya say? Your gun, as much ammunition as you need and that toy of yours. Fair trade?"
Lily peeled her eyes off the dials to look at him. She nodded.
"And this was all just a big misunderstanding, right?" Tommy pressed, as Lily returned to the Pip-Boy. "You'll tell your sister, right?"
"Maybe."
"Maybe?" Tommy swallowed. "Listen Lil, I−"
"Save it for her." Lily interjected. "I'm done here."
"You forgetting something?" He asked, tapping his temple. "Drinks are on the house. Food too, and your rooms paid up until…forever. You could stay here a while, wait for her. Explain all of…this."
Lily frowned through his plea, shaking her head.
"I'm sick of this place."
"I'm sorry for that, Lil, I truly am." Tommy took a deep breath. "I messed up, big time."
"Whatever." She turned to leave.
"Wait! Go out the back door."
"I know." She stopped. For a moment her eyes lingered on the crumpled figure at his feet. Her lips parted slightly, the question forming in her throat.
"She doesn't have much time left. I'll give her a few hits of psycho to take the edge off." Tommy gave her a pointed look. "If that's okay with you."
At the mention of psycho, the figure's head peeled off the floor. Gnarled, twisted locks of hair hung in front of blank eyes that rose to meet Lily's. The raider swallowed, looked away.
"It's fine." She muttered, fiddling with her Pip-Boy. "Just make it quick. Don't stretch it out more than you have to."
Tommy nodded, then took a chance. "I'll miss you, Lily."
This time, she saw right through him. Saw the fear he was trying to hide, the relief he was starting to feel when she'd turned around. As Tommy sat, stock still, waiting for the glare to end so he could finally take a breath, he began to wonder if the whole thing was an act, if she'd been reading him from the very start.
"No you won't." She said, and walked out.
Tommy sighed. It was a long, drawn-out sigh, one he'd been keeping to himself since Lily had hit the floor in the arena. The immediate danger was gone, and that merited a bit of relief. Relief that quickly turned to disgust when he spotted Cait crawling towards the open safe.
"And you." He muttered, scooping up his revolver. "What do I do with you?"
Cait froze, cheek pressed against the dirty floor. Playing dead, he imagined.
"Red's still going to want you, isn't she? No matter what Lily says to her, she'll be here sooner or later, asking for you."
"Gimme…" Cait whispered, grasping at the air between her and the safe. "I'll kill her."
"Sure you will." Tommy muttered, rising to his feet. He grabbed a syringe from the safe before slamming it shut. Turned to look at her.
There was light in her eyes. Somewhere in that dull, chem-ravaged brain was something alive. Something that needed what he was holding in his hand, more than food or water or anything else in the world. If it wasn't for the gun she'd be clawing at his throat, biting and scratching his fingers until they released the precious substance that kept her alive. Another day and even that wouldn't be enough.
Lily was right. The right thing to do was what he'd planned on doing all along. A bullet to the head, quick and clean. Save her from this miserable existence.
"You'll tell Red everything, won't you?" Tommy asked, holding the syringe just out of reach. "You lost control, attacked Lily. There was nothing I could do to stop you."
Cait nodded, her eyes never leaving his hand. There'd been a time when she would have begged for the bullet. Back when she still had pride, when she could still get her head off the ground without chems running through her veins. They made a few caps, she smiled once in a while. Everything had been perfect, up until the moment the woman with long, dark hair had stepped into their home.
"Here." He tossed the syringe on the ground, looking away as his little bird scrambled after it, a starving mutt chasing after scraps. Ghouls couldn't cry, but he felt a familiar sting in the corner of his eyes when he heard her gasp, then sigh.
"It never should have been this way, dove." He whispered, knowing she couldn't hear him. "I'm sorry."