Butch slipped out of the Vault the moment he could. Even with Nosebleed's warnings, and the image of her looking like hell bounced around his head, he left. Sure, things would definitely be more difficult out in the wastes, but he was pretty sure she had been exaggerating. He just figured she had gotten herself into some situations she couldn't handle, and was dealing with the consequences.

He was damn sure that he could handle fights that came his way, but what he wasn't prepared for was the sun. He felt like he was about to go blind as he stepped outside. He had tears in his eyes by the time they adjusted to the light. He was about to finally open his eyes, but he then felt the warmth of the sun on his face for the first time in his life. It felt a lot like having a drink of water when he had gone a day without it. Why would everyone try to keep him from something he clearly needed?

He wasn't entirely sure what he was expecting when he finally opened, but the bright expanse of the sky wasn't quite it. It was the richest shade of blue he had ever seen decorated with puffy white clouds that looked like cotton balls. It was a stark contrast against the browns and greys of the wasteland. There were hills and rubble everywhere, and he was a little overwhelmed trying to figure out where to start heading.

As he scanned the area he saw a figure in the distance. He held a hand up to his brows to shield his eyes from the sun, and saw a familiar jacket paired with honey blonde hair. He would've thought that Nosebleed would be long gone by then, but it was clearly there, walking somewhere. He really didn't want to be chewed out for following her, because he didn't want her thinking he needed to depend on her, but he figured that she probably knew where she was going. Once she got to her destination he could ask for some directions, and then take care of himself. Besides, it looked like she was heading to some sort of building or something, so he could just say he was using his own logic.

He started making his way down the hill, and towards her, boots crunching in the dirt. He even marveled at that. He was only a few feet away from the entrance of the vault, and it was already so different. He was so caught up in the sound of his own footsteps that he missed the ones approaching him from behind. He yelped at the sound of a gunshot, and hit the ground. Thankfully, the scumbag had shit aim. The bullet hit a rock a good four feet to his left.

He rolled over onto his back to see a group of five people running towards him with various weapons out. They looked dirtier than Nosebleed had, and were wearing about as many clothes as the girls on the covers of those dirty magazines he had found once. He fumbled with his gun, just barely managing to pull the trigger before one of the ones with a gun could shoot at him. The next two shots were easier, and he took the two charging at him with knives just fine. Then, he had to reload, and suddenly his fingers wouldn't work.

He saw his life flashing before his eyes. Every memory had the walls and fluorescent lights of the damn vault, not the sun or open air. His mind panicked as his body accepted death. He did his best to get his hands to work, but they just wouldn't move. Just as he was bracing for the pain of a bullet hitting him, he heard a series of several fast gunshots one right after the other from behind where his head was. The rest of his attackers fell to the ground, blood pooling around their bodies.

The new person ran over to his side before he could start standing up. Instead of helping him up, or checking to see if he was okay like he expected, they pointed their gun right in his face. He blinked as their face came into focus with the sun giving them a halo like they were a real angel. He realized the Nosebleed of all people was his savior, because of course she was.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing? How stupid are you?" She demanded, not moving the barrel of her rifle out of his face.

He stared dumbly at her as his mouth tried to form words. Her honey blonde hair was glowing in the sun. In the new light he could see that half of the marks on her face were new freckles, not dirt. What really caught his attention, though, was the realization that he had seen the color of sky before. Her eyes looked just like the sky above them. He had always thought she was pretty, he wasn't blind afterall, but she looked downright beautiful outlined by the sun like that. He found himself wondering what she would look like with the sun hitting her head on.

"You hit your head or something, DeLoria?" she asked.

He was brought back to the present, and his hands finally started working again. He put his gun in his holster, deciding that that would probably help convince her to put her own gun down. He didn't want to test whether or not she would shoot him. He could take her in hand to hand, but didn't like the odds with that rifle in her hands. He was cocky as hell, sure, but he wasn't stupid.

Putting his gun away seemed to be the right move, as she lowered her own before cursing under her breath, and offering him a hand to help him up. He waved her off, and stood on his own.

"I told you I was leaving the vault," he said once he was finally on his feet.

"Yeah, and I told you that that's a dumbass idea."

"How's that supposed to stop me, Nosebleed? Words are nothing compared to what was going on in there, and you know it."

She took a step closer to him, and got in his face, "Yeah, and what happened in there is nothing compared to the shit out here! You've barely left the Vault, and you've already almost died!"

"Why do you even care?" he asked. He supposed he shouldn't be all that shocked. She had always been a goody-two-shoes, but he still couldn't wrap his head around it.

"Because despite what you think, I don't want to see you dead. I don't want to see anyone but raiders and-" she stopped talking suddenly. She had that fire in her eyes that she had had when she had stormed back into the vault. He watched in confusion as it faded, and she started talking again, "I don't want anyone I know that hasn't tried to kill me winding up dead because they wound up in a fight they couldn't win."

"I can win any fight," he argued

"Then what the fuck was this?" she asked, calling him on his bullshit, "You try to go anywhere, and you will be ambushed. You think dealing with people is hard? You got no idea what horrors are out here."

"Well," he said, attempting to come up with someway out of the argument, "well if it's so bad then we can travel together. You could be the first member of my new gang! You're already wearing the jacket, and if it's so bad then why are you runnin' around alone? Huh?"
He wasn't sure why he had offered to travel with her. It wasn't exactly his picture of freedom. Then again, if things were as bad as she said, traveling with someone did sound like a good idea, and at least Nosebleed wouldn't stab him. She might abandon him, but she was too much of a goody-two-shoes to kill him.

He watched as her hand flew up to the collar almost defensively. She looked sad as she digested what he said, not angry, and it freaked him out a little. Anger, annoyance, frustration. He could deal with those things coming from her, but sadness? That made him uncomfortable. She'd never been actually sad around him, just pissed. He relaxed when that sad look melted back into determination and slight annoyance.

She pursed her lips, "I am not joining your gang. You want to travel with me, we do it my way. I've got shit to do."

He scoffed, "As if. What are you doing? Saving kittens from burning buildings."

She crossed her arms across her chest, "I actually am causing trouble out here, just for the people who deserve it. Not the little people who can't fight back so I can feel better about myself."

"You expect me to believe that?"
"After the shit you've seen me do since my dad left, yes."

He thought about what she was saying. As usual, she was right. A year ago his argument would make sense, but not now. Not after she risked her life to save his mom, and then proceeded to kill an officer to escape the vault. Not after she came back looking like hell, and killed another officer to save everyone. Not after she had killed two guys to save him personally. Butch decided to heed all the warnings being thrown his way, and gave in. Slightly.

He mirrored her stance, "Fine, but when you realize that I'm the better leader, and joining my gang is better, you're gonna have to work real hard to get in."

She narrowed her eyes, "Sure, DeLoria."

Her reply was sarcastic, but he took it as her agreeing to his terms. He relaxed into a more neutral position, and put on a cocky grin, "So, where we heading to go to cause some trouble first, Nosebleed."

She put her hand up, "First things first. If we're traveling together, you're not calling me Nosebleed any more. I have a name. Use it."

"Fine… Patrick," he said. He wasn't going to call her Elizabeth. No one ever had, not even her father. It felt too… formal. He also wasn't going to call her Liz either. He doubted she appreciated him calling her that. That's what people like her dad and Amata called her. So, he settled on her last name. The perfect inbetween. She referred to him by his last name ninety percent of the time anyway.

She seemed pleased with the response, and finally backed down, "We're getting supplies and rest first. All you've got is a pistol and your switchblade, and I… I've had a long day."

He shrugged, and let her lead on. She wasn't wrong, and he wasn't going to turn down getting more ammo. He followed her as she led him to a large metal structure nearby. He found himself staring at her back, at his old jacket. He had been shocked when he realized that she was wearing it back in the Vault. He had only given it to her, because he didn't know how else to repay her, and he didn't like owing people things. He had expected her to get rid of the thing, or to just store it somewhere. He had never expected her to actually wear it. Not only had it been his, but it was noticeably big on her. It made him feel a way that not only made him both loved and hated, and had no way to describe it. It was confusing, and he was thankful that the entrance to the place Nosebleed was leading him wasn't too far away.

He wrinkled his nose at the sight of a very large, but also very dead bug. It was four times the size of a radroach, and he was glad that he wasn't the person who had to deal with it. There was also a robot with a hat on milling about the place. He was pretty sure it was a protectron. He remembered the adults talking about how they used to have one in the Vault, but they had to scrap it for parts. He wondered how messed up it had to be for them to choose Andy over it. There were also a group of people out there, all of whom greeted Nosebleed with smiles.

"Liz! You came back sooner than I thought, who's your friend?" one of the people asked.

She grimaced at the word 'friend,' but put on a smile to talk, "This is Butch. He's from the Vault. You might be seeing more people from there in the future."

"Ah well, any friend of Liz's is a friend of mine. Nice to meet you."

"Yeah…" was all Butch said. The man was way too friendly for his liking, and he was a little thrown off by the thought of Liz being popular. He gave it some thought, though, and supposed it made sense. She was always willing to help everyone, so he guessed they just liked free labor. He hoped she had been truthful about finding trouble. He didn't want to build houses for orphans or something like that.

She said her goodbyes, and they headed inside the structure. His eyes turned into saucers as he looked about him. The place was a maze of smaller, rickety buildings, and in the center…

"Is… is that a bomb? Like those bombs?" He stammered.
"Hm? Oh, yeah, but don't worry. I defused it."

He almost tripped over his own feet as he stopped walking in shock, "You did what?"
"I defused it," she repeated like it was the most mundane thing in the world, "it wasn't that hard, and they gave me a house in return."

That certainly explained why the people outside liked her so much, and a place to live was definitely a good payment for disarming a damn nuke. He was a lot more optimistic about finding some good trouble with her.

He untied his tongue, and asked in an attempt to seem less impressed, "What? Was it like working on a pip-boy?"

"Nah, but it was like disarming your attempts at blowing up the toilets. I still don't know why you tried that. That would've just meant the women would've had to use the mens toilets, and you would've had to hold it longer."

He grimaced, "Yeah, I don't know what I was thinking either."
It was her turn to be shocked, "Did you just admit you were wrong?"

"Even I'm not perfect," he shrugged, and then smirked, "but I am pretty damn close."

"Uh-huh," she said, voice dripping with sarcasm. She started walking again, and led them around the left edge of the place. He saw more people milling about, greeting her with smiles. It was weird. Really weird. Even the people in the Vault weren't this friendly.

"Where are we?" he asked when they came to the door of one of the makeshift buildings.

"My place. I have to grab some things, and drop other stuff off," she explained as she unlocked the door.

He wasn't entirely sure what he was expecting when the door swung open. The walls and the roof had holes in them, allowing for beams of sunlight to come through. The furniture was all worn and barely holding together. All the tables and shelves were full with weaponry, knick-knacks, and what he thought was junk. The only similarity it had to the Vault was a Mister Handy who wizzed into the main room, and greeted Nosebleed, but he seemed to be in a better condition than Andy ever was. Despite the broken and dirty condition of everything, it seemed more like a home than the Vault ever did. That warm feeling he had when he was staring at his jacket on Nosebleeds back returned. He tried to ignore it.

"Hello, Wadsworth," she greeted.

"Miss Patrick. Who is this?"

"This is Butch DeLoria. DeLoria, this is Wadsworth."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Mister DeLoria," the bot said.

"You too," he said.

"Why am I not surprised that you're nicer to the Mister Handy than the people?" she asked. He almost replied, but he realized that she was asking herself more than him. Truth was he was used to bots being overly polite. That's how they were programmed. They had no ulterior motives like people did. He kept that thought to himself.

"Anyway," she sighed, "You see that door up stairs? The one closest to the stairs? That's where you can stay when we're here. Right now there's just a bed in there, but we'll find a dresser and stuff eventually. The other room is mine."

"Where am I supposed to put my stuff then?"

She narrowed her eyes at him, "What stuff? All you brought with you is your gun, your clothes, and that stupid switch blade. I'm gonna get you some stuff, cause I am not letting you be dead weight, but you're going to be able to fit it all in a backpack for a while."

"What? You're not sharing?" he said, motioning to all the stuff she had. He meant it as a joke, but it seemed to break her.

She got in his face, and poked his chest to the point where he thought she was stabbing him, "I'm buying you ammo, food, and meds. I'm giving you a roof over your head, despite all the shit you did to me growing up. I'm saving your ass, and you're whining about sharing ?"

He had to look down to look at her because of how close she was. He put his hands up, "It was a joke, damn."

He watched as the fire in her eyes died down. She closed her eyes, took a step back, and took a deep breath. She cleared her throat, and he almost couldn't believe his ears as she actually apologized, "I'm sorry. It may not have been a good joke, but it was obvious. I'm still getting used to the fact that you're the only one not part of the problem."

Despite getting an apology from her being a rare occurrence, he couldn't resist the urge to tease her, "Oh, I'm pretty sure there will be plenty of reasons to get mad later on."
"DeLoria…" she warned, and he laughed at the fact that she took him seriously.

"Whatever," she muttered, "I'm going to grab some caps, and we'll get you your gear."

"Caps?"

"Oh yeah, for whatever reason they use bottle caps as currency. Believe me, I am just as confused as you are."

"Alright," he shook his head in disbelief. He knew that the wasteland would be weird.

She walked up the stairs to her room, and he leaned against the wall next to the door to wait. He would have started poking around, but decided it would be better to wait untill she told him he could. He didn't want to wake up to missing fingers. He heard her rustling around in her room, and she returned with a big bag that looked like it was full of bottle caps. She had ditched her bat and all the stuff attached to her belt, but still had her rifle with her. He wasn't sure what to make of that.

"Let's go," she said, and led the way out of the house. She continued to walk around the edge of the crater greeting almost everyone they walked past. The was an older, creepy looking guy she ignored, and Butch didn't bother asking why. He even made Butch's skin crawl.

He was about to pipe up when his eyes landed on the saloon, but Nosebleed cut him off, "Don't go in there. The owner is a dick, and I wouldn't be surprised if you ended up enslaved to him."

"What?"

"Yeah… if you want a drink, you should go to the Brass Lantern down near the bomb instead. They don't specialize in drinks, but the Stahl's are better than Moriarty."

"Uh, okay," he said. He had no idea how to respond to that. She had said it so… casually. He had the smallest inkling of regret for leaving the Vault. Fights he was cool with. Slavery… that idea had him on edge.

She led him to a building on the opposite side of the crater to her house. The sign above it read 'Craterside Supply,' and he guessed this was their destination.

"I should warn you before we go in that Moira can be… quite the character. She's a good person, but a little out there."

With that out of the way, she opened the door. The place didn't look all that different from her house. It was larger, and had people inside instead of a bot, but still looked a lot like her home. He barely had enough time to take in his surroundings before his ears were shattered by a red headed woman loudly, and cheerfully greeting Nosebleed.

"Oh, hi Liz! Welcome back! Did you finish testing the repellent stick?" the woman said. Her voice made Butch's head feel like it was going to split open.

"Ah no. I had to… deal with some stuff. I'll get around to it soon. I promise."

"Ah, well, tell me when you do. We need to find a good way to deal with those little moleratties. Anyway, who is your friend? I see that he's from the Vault too!"

"Moira, Butch. Butch, Moira. He's decided to leave the Vault, so we're going to be traveling together for a bit. I was wondering if you had any starter stuff around."

"I do! What do you need?"

Butch zoned out of the conversation as Nosebleed started rattling stuff off. He saw various magazines, and machine parts. There were piles of clothes in more styles than he thought existed. He saw weapons he could never have dreamed of, and they were just sitting there. He saw collections of makeup and hair products ranging from gels to old razors. He felt like a kid in a candy shop.

Nosebleed's stern voice brought him back, "DeLoria."

"What?"

"Let me see your gun."

He narrowed his eyes at her, "Why?"
"I need to see what kind of ammo you need, dumbass."

"Oh, yeah, right," he said, and handed over his gun.

She took the pistol from him, and inspected it with more attention to detail than he had when he had originally stolen it.

"Ten millimeter," she said, and handed the the gun back to him.

"Bet you regret selling me all those bullets," Moira laughed before turning away to find the ammunition Butch needed.

"Why'd you sell bullets?" he asked.

"My rifle uses different ones, and I had gotten rid of my pistol. I saw no point in keeping bullets I couldn't use, when I could use the caps to buy things I would use. How was I supposed to know someone would come crawling out of the Vault?"

He just crossed his arms. He had already given in and admitted that she was right too many times today. Thankfully, she didn't push the conversation. Instead, she thanked Moira, grabbed the bullets, and started picking up the stuff she had bought. He noticed she had also bought some bullets for herself as well as all the stuff for him. He looked over the stuff she had gotten him. She had bought a backpack, both a canteen and a flask, a bedroll, a ton of ammo, an extra shirt, a belt along with a holster and a way to clip on his switchblade. He doubted it counted as much, but it was still a lot more than he was expecting. He was pretty sure she was just going to get him ammo and a pack. He grabbed the stuff, because as amusing as it would have been to make her carry everything, it was his stuff now.

She said her goodbyes to Moira, and led him back out into the town. He looked down at her, "Where are we going now?"

"I'm going back to the house. You can explore if you want, though you're not going to get to do much since you don't have any caps."

"You aren't heading back out?" he asked. He didn't want to sound impatient, but he was already itching to see more of the world. He had been locked up for so long, and now he didn't want to stay in one place for too long.

"I haven't slept in a bed for longer than I want to admit too. I want to sleep in my bed at least one time before going back out. You want to leave, go ahead, but I'm keeping the stuff I bought. I bought it so supplies wouldn't be too stretched out. Besides, I figured with all the stuff that happened in the Vault, you'd want a good night of sleep before hitting the road."

"This can't be the only place with beds."
"It's not, but as I said. I've been causing trouble."
She laughed at his grimace, "Do you want to go back to the Vault already?"

"Fuck no. I'm just wondering what kind of trouble leads to you sleeping in the dirt."

"The kind that makes you travel. The kind you seem so desperate for."

She was trying to scare him off, give him one final chance to turn back. That only made him more determined to stay. No way in hell was Nosebleed gonna scare him away from something he's wanted for so long. Sure, he'll listen when she says to stay away from a specific building, but she won't make him run back to the Vault. Now that he's seen the sky he was determined to die under it.

"Eh, sleeping in the dirt can't be any worse than doing the same damn thing every damn day."
She snorted, "Remind me to ask you again in a few days."

"What? You think I'm a pussy or something?"

"No, I just think you're overestimating how tough you are, and before you try picking a fight, I think a lot of people do."

It was his turn to grumble, "Whatever. Is everything you have to say about the surface so… I don't know, off-putting?"

She was quiet as she thought for a moment. Her expression softened as an idea popped into her head, "The sunset, and the sunrise are worth seeing."

"That's it? Something's pretty?"

"You asked."

"Yeah, I guess that's what I get for asking you of all people."

"If you're going to keep talking like that, you don't have to follow me around. I know you're bullheaded enough to charge off without the supplies."

"Despite what you think Nos- Patrick, I'm not stupid."

"I guess it'll be nice to see you prove me wrong then."

He resisted the urge to say whatever again. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction. He found himself wondering what a sunset looked like instead of coming up with some insult to pester her with. Just as everything else she had said, she was right about him needing rest. He hadn't realized how tired he was until he felt like he didn't have to keep looking over his shoulder. It was so strange that Nosebleed of all people would be the reason for that comfort.