The Sweet Sound of Caring

"By God, if I had hands, I would strangle the life out of you!"

There was a bang, and Gage turned in time to see a sparking Mr. Handy unit flying towards his head. He ducked, the broken robot soaring past and crashing into a pile of skeletons, before fixing his attention back on the danger.

The gatorclaw towered above him, expelling its rattling breath in great heaves as its small yellow eyes surveyed Gage hungrily, saliva dripping from its fangs. It waited, as did he, for the other to move.

He was alone, trapped in a small room with a monster. The boss had taken half the robots they'd brought with them to clear Safari Adventure, trusting him to manage the rest. And Gage had done a pretty good job as far as he was concerned, until he'd reached the Reptile House.

If gatorclaws were a menace in the open, it was nothing compared to dealing with them in enclosed spaces. He should have remembered the fight under the Welcome Center. Now his share of the robots were strewn all over the floor.

Loud, guttural growls snapped Gage back to the present, and he saw the gatorclaw move just in time. He darted sideways and opened fire as it charged. Some of his bullets found their mark, but most pinged harmlessly off the scaly hide. Then it was upon him, lashing out with its claws. Gage dodged them, but forgot the tail. It hit him in the chest, slamming him backwards into a nearby wall and sending his rifle spinning away.

Gage staggered upright, winded, in time to see the gatorclaw wheel around, bleeding and unsteady, but still very much alive. He threw his gaze about, looking for an escape, but the gatorclaw's bulk blocked every way out. It approached slowly, Gage pushing himself as far back into the wall as he could go. The thing had him cornered, and it fucking knew it.

An inhuman howl of rage shattered the tension, and both he and the gatorclaw turned to the source of the noise. Gage saw the loincloth before he saw the man.

Clang.

"No hurt!" Cito bellowed, holding the old bit of pipe high like a sword. He brought it down on the gatorclaw's head with a sickening crack and the immense lizard collapsed to the ground, twitching. But Cito carried on, hitting it over and over until its huge head split and its brains puddled all over the floor.

Cito panted, his shoulders rising and falling, before glancing up at Gage. Gage tensed, waiting for the wildman to turn on him. He'd be sore too if he'd been left beneath the Welcome Center to die. Gage flicked his eye across the room and finally spotted his gun a few feet from the gatorclaw's corpse.

Cito drew close, lowering his weapon. He looked at Gage for a moment, blinking behind the blood splattered across his weathered face. A second later, it broke into a wide smile.

"Friend!" Cito pounced before Gage could react, dragging him into a bone crunching hug.

"Let go!" Gage snarled, shoving Cito off him. Cito seemed unperturbed by the hostile reaction, still beaming. Gage frowned, wiping gatorclaw blood off his front. "Thought you were dead."

"No!" said Cito brightly.

Gage blinked, then snorted. Well, that was the end of that conversation. He sighed, shaking his head as he picked his gun up off the floor, and then smiled, his back turned to Cito. Despite himself, he was kinda glad the idiot survived.

Meat shield, he told himself. The thought made him feel a little better about the odd relief over Cito's presence. He didn't like giving a fuck about others when they were no benefit to him. Especially when they were no benefit to him. Then again, Cito could wield a pipe like nobody's business. Yeah...that had to be the reason.

Somewhat settled, Gage motioned for Cito to follow, and the great, lumbering moron obeyed, trailing after Gage as he left the Reptile House and headed back to the meeting place Bossanova set out. She was there, waiting for him, all of her robots still intact. She also looked relatively unscathed, which was quite a feat considering they still hadn't managed to replace her ruined armour after the nukalurk queen melted it. Bossanova pulled a face when she saw him, as if unsurprised his Mr. Handys were gone, before her eyes settled on Cito.

"Cito!" she cried, her mouth falling open. She ran to him, and the two hugged, much to Gage's disgust. Bossanova asked the questions he'd failed to, from how Cito escaped the gatorclaws, to how he found Gage. Gage couldn't help but notice the sly look she shot him as Cito told her how he'd "help friend."

"Stop looking so sour," Bossanova said with a grin, as Cito's tales finished.

"Whatever," Gage grumbled, rolling his eye. "I cleared my side. You?"

Bossanova's smile widened. "Same. Safari Adventure is ours."

Euphoria rushed through him. Weeks of stress were coming to and end, the steady weight of Nisha and Mason's expectations finally starting to slide off his shoulders. Another section of the park down….

Gage's line of thought trailed off and Cito burped loudly and sat on the floor, scratching his head. Gage turned to Bossanova, jerking his thumb into Cito's direction. "What we doing about him?"

She shrugged. "What about him?"

Gage stared at her, flabbergasted. "You really think Mason is gonna put up with this dumbass and his furball friends?"

From somewhere at Gage's feet, Cito muttered, "No ass medicine…"

Bossanova glanced down at Cito, then nodded at Gage. "I think so, yes."

"How?"

"Well, either Mason will see Cito as a true animal, worthy of living alongside his Pack, or he'll revel in the chance to fight it out with the wildest remnants of the park." She gave him a wicked smile. "Mason will love it."

"What, so you're happy for the Pack to just tear this idiot apart?" Gage scowled.

"Cito is more than a match for Mason." Bossanova looked fondly at Cito. "If he can take on gatorclaws by himself, he can take on the Pack no trouble and win."

"The Pack have guns." He scowled at her. "Or are you saying he can fight bullets with just a bit of pipe too?"

Bossanova raised her non-existent eyebrows. "Gage, is that the sound of you caring?"

"No."

She smirked at him, then crouched down next to Cito. "Cito?"

Cito cocked his head in her direction.

"I'm going to be bringing some new friends to your home. My friends. I think you'll get on very well with them. Do you mind?"

Cito frowned, apparently thinking very hard about this. Then his face cleared and he smiled. "Cito like new friends. Cito happy for new friends."

"Good." She shot Gage a sly look. "But if you're unhappy, or my new friends get mean, you come see me. I'll visit to check everything is fine, okay?"

"Yes," Cito replied, nodding furiously. "Cito nice if friends nice."

"I don't doubt it," Bossanova replied sweetly.

Gage sighed.

The walk back to Nuka Town left Gage with a lot of time to think. He hated thinking these days, preferring to drown himself in action instead. No longer did he languish on the sofa, wallowing in self pity—there was too much to do, and increasingly less time to do it. He was no idiot. He'd seen the Disciples shadowing him, close enough to set him on edge, but just far enough away to cast reasonable doubt. Laughable really—they didn't know who they were fucking with: Gage lived by gut instinct, and it told him they were after his blood.

Wherever he turned, the Disciples were waiting for him on every corner, every dark alleyway. Two women in particular stood out, their unseen eyes watching him from behind their ghoulish masks. Bossanova sensed their persistent presence too, and the unspoken recognition between her and Gage had pushed them to try and claim the rest of the park.

But despite Bossanova's hard work, Gage couldn't quite get the letters he'd found out of his head. He tried to pass it off as her being a soft touch, but it seemed too...personal. Like she was invested somehow.

Jack's brothel came into view, and Gage's stomach contracted uncomfortably. He'd managed to push her out of his mind for the most part, but when he wasn't busy, she returned without warning, dominating his thoughts and driving his mood down into the dirt. And if Gage was honest with himself, he missed her. There was no way around that simple fact. He missed her the way the sun-cracked soil missed rain in the summer, or a dry blade craved the taste of blood. The pain was dull but constant, an old wound aggravated by the cold.

Gage didn't do feelings. He didn't do talking much either, but she was the one person he knew he could tell anything, and she'd understand. And he'd told her a lot. Not on purpose, of course, but in moments of rage, particularly in the early days of Nuka World. Gage had complained a lot about Colter and Nisha, and all the other idiots not patient enough to let his schemes bear fruit. He'd shared his worries, and Jack kept his secrets and then some.

Gage still had his head, so Jack must have held her tongue, despite everything that had gone on. She was a good woman. And she deserved a lot better than him.

"Cap for your thoughts?" Bossanova said over her shoulder.

Gage grunted in reply.

"Made up with Jack yet?"

He gritted his teeth, but didn't bother to dignify her bullshit with a response. How did she always know?

"Shank says we should be ready to make a move on the Commonwealth settlements soon. I was thinking about inviting Jack along with us—"

"Shut the fuck up," Gage growled, his temper flaring up at once. Why did she have to keep pushing? "I'm through with Jack. How many fucking times do I gotta repeat myself?"

"As many times as it takes for you to stop lying," Bossanova replied lightly, meeting his eye with a dangerous look. "I'm no fool, Porter Gage. I see how you are every time we pass her place."

"Change the subject," he said flatly, glaring at her. His heart was racing, hot prickles rushing through his skin. He didn't need this shit. Not now. Not ever.

Bossanova considered him for a moment, her expression dark, and then said, "I think the Galactic Zone is ready to hand out. The computers have been secured, along with the robots. I need your opinion on who we give it to."

"Nisha," Gage said without hesitation.

Bossanova nodded. "I agree, but...it's risky."

"It's suicidal if we don't give it to her. Unless the other areas are ready to go?"

"No...not yet."

"God, what the hell are you doing with them?" Gage asked incredulously. She'd been ferrying supplies into the park through the traders for a week now, bringing in food, weapons, and chems, alongside barrels and barrels of radioactive waste. The first three on the list were split amongst the park, but the barrels were carted off to God knew where. Every time Gage tried to ask her about it, she simply said it was, "For emergencies."

On the plus side, the Operators found her stupid gamma gun thing in the Bottling Plant and had the good sense to present it to her rather than trying to keep it for themselves. She'd accepted the tribute with a smile, not bothering to share exactly what it did, before tucking it away in the depths of her many layers of clothes. That was the last time he'd seen it. Gage wondered if the waste barrels were to make more ammo for the gun, but when he mentioned it, she only shrugged and smiled.

"The last areas of the park require some fine tuning," Bossanova said, pulling Gage out of his contemplation. "We'll see Mason first, and then we'll give Nisha the good news."

Mason's Pack snarled and scurried around them as they made their way inside the Amphitheater, baring their teeth but still keeping a respectful distance from Bossanova. They remembered her last display in the heart of their den and knew their places.

"So nice of you drop by and check in," Mason drawled, looking at Bossanova with dislike as he lounged in his makeshift throne. "Here to tell me what territory you've given to the Operators, Overboss?"

"I can always go see Nisha instead," Bossanova replied coolly. "But keep talking if you'd rather I make an example of you. I'm sure your guys would love the display. Might even be a new Alpha in the crowd, waiting for you to screw up."

Mason straightened in his seat, eyes narrowing. He knew as well as Gage and the boss any sign of weakness would invite any of the Pack to challenge his leadership. If they won, Mason would be exiled. He slowly got to his feet, scowling. "Let's walk."

"Wonderful idea." Bossanova strode past him without a backwards glance, leaving Gage and Mason to fall into step behind her. The snub was not lost on the crowd, who broke out into murmurs and stifled laughter.

"Get gone!" Mason roared over his shoulder, and the Pack members scampered away into silence. Gage concealed a grin. The Alpha still had it...for now.

"What you got for me, boss?" Mason asked as they moved into the privacy of one of the back rooms.

Bossanova quickly outlined Safari Adventure in all its animal infested glory, and Mason's smile grew wider and wider with every passing second. By the time she'd finished, he was beaming.

"So it's mine then, yeah?" He folded his arms, grinning.

"Not exactly," Bossanova said delicately.

Gage snapped his head towards her, his mouth falling open. What the hell was she doing?

Mason seemed to be having similar thoughts. The smile evaporated, replaced with an ugly scowl as he stepped forwards, fist raised. Gage raised his gun and he halted, the rage rolling off him with the force of a flash flood. Gritting his teeth, he directed his molten gaze back to Bossanova and snarled, "What?"

"You tried to kill me," she replied.

"So?"

Gage had to agree. Killing was just part of the raider lifestyle. If she couldn't accept that raiders might try to kill her every once in a while, she was going to struggle to keep the place in check.

"You might thrive off murder when things aren't going your way, but I expect loyalty from the people under my rule." She glared back at Mason. "In fact, I demand it."

"You ain't given me no reason to be loyal! It's taken fucking months to get one bit of land, and you ain't even given it me yet!" Mason's face was bright red beneath all his colourful paint. "You're lucky I didn't just kill you myself."

Bossanova laughed in his face. "You wouldn't have the balls to try."

Mason stepped closer. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

Gage aimed his gun at Mason's head. "Get back, asshole. Now."

Mason ignored him, and Gage wondered if he'd have to fire a warning shot to deescalate the situation. Then Bossanova threw everything in the air by moving so close to Mason that if she'd had a nose, they'd be touching. She had to tilt her head right back to look into Mason's eyes, but the sheer force of will crackling from her own more than made up for it.

"You want territory?" Bossanova snarled. "You bend the knee, just like William and Mags did."

Mason stared down at her, his expression unreadable, and for a moment Gage thought he was going to hit her. But then, to Gage's shock, Mason stepped back, slowly bent to one knee, and bowed his head in submission, his face perfectly blank.

Bossanova drew her sword with care, and Mason's eyes darted up to the blade, though he stayed still. She laid the blade gently on his shoulder, and then traced it down and across his chest, before bringing the tip under his chin and forcing him to look at her.

"Safari Adventure is yours." She paused. "On one condition."

Gage groaned inwardly. He knew what was coming.

Mason frowned. "What?"

"There is a man and his 'family'—animals, mutated from the war—living in your section of the park—"

"My guys will deal with them."

Bossanova laughed. "You could try, but you won't succeed. Cito killed several gatorclaws in front of us with nothing but a bit of pipe."

Mason shot Gage a confused look. "What's a gatorcla—?"

"Don't ask."

"Mutated deathclaws," Bossanova said, "and exceptionally dangerous. Cito assisted me in clearing them out, on the understanding he could keep his home in the Primate House and be allowed to roam unhindered."

Gage privately wondered if Cito knew what 'unhindered' meant.

Mason's expression grew angry, and he started to rise from his knees. "If you think I'm gonna just let some asshole sit in my—"

Bossanova shifted the sword suddenly, the point pushing dangerously into Mason's throat, forcing him to lean back as he wobbled precariously on one knee. "You'll do as you're told."

Mason didn't reply, his face filled with hate.

"Cito and his family can't be bullied, nor would I suggest you try. You will co-exist with them—I think you could learn something from each other."

"I think you think I'm stupid," he snarled, glaring up at her. "None of the other gangs would have to put up with this shit."

"You're not stupid—far from it, in fact. I made a deal with Cito, and I stick by my word, good or bad. I want Cito to remain friendly with us, and you understand how the world works—how the wild think. You are the only one of my lieutenants strong enough to tame him." She stared down at Mason. "My Alpha."

He said nothing for a moment, contemplating her words. Then he said, "And if I refuse?"

"Then I'll find someone else with the grit to do what I ask. The balance of power is a delicate thing. Won't take much to upset it."

Mason shut his eyes. He was silent for a full three seconds before opening them again, meeting Bossanova's oily gaze. He grinned. "You got big fuckin' balls, boss."

She grinned back, but didn't remove the sword. "The biggest. Will you obey?"

"Yeah, boss. Ain't got a lot of choice, have I?"

"No. But the others don't need to know that. That's between the three of us."

Mason threw a sour look in Gage's direction.

"He knows better than to cross me," Bossanova said lightly.

Gage turned to him and nodded. "Ain't no one gonna fuck with the boss. Includin' me."

Again, Mason considered this and Gage held his breath. She liked to spring her riskiest moves when he wasn't expecting them, but if it paid off, Mason would be under Bossanova's thumb.

Finally, Mason seemed to make up his mind. His eyes settled on Bossanova's, the grin returning with a vengeance as he gazed up at her from his spot on the floor.

"Deal."

Nisha's acceptance of the Galactic Zone was silent and curt, the mood inside Fizztop Mountain icy. Gage kept himself at the ready, waiting for an attack, wondering if this offering was too little, too late. Whatever they did next, he would strongly recommend Bossanova favour Nisha as a priority, before her fraying tolerance of Nuka World snapped.

Bossanova put Nisha in her place, telling her to hold her tongue unless she wanted it removed, promised blood with the next intake of slaves, and then made their way back to the Grille, basking in their success. No words passed between them until they reached their sanctuary, when Bossanova finally turned to him and said, "Hungry?"

Gage paused. The loss of Jack still weighed on him, but for the moment euphoria drowned his misery out. And for the first time in weeks, the thought of food didn't make him feel sick. He cocked his head in her direction. "I could eat, yeah."

Bossanova beamed.

She bustled away, producing her mystery apron from God knew where yet again and busied herself over the camping stove. Gage eyed the old sofa and turned away from it, deciding to avoid the temptation to nest, and instead dropped himself down in the nearby armchair, setting his rifle on the coffee table.

His stomach began to rumble as a delicious smell filled the air, and some time later a bowl of hot, steaming something was placed in front of him, a spoon balanced delicately on the rim.

"What is that?" Gage asked, mystified as he leaned forward and studied the creamy, white liquid.

"Pre-war, it would have been clam chowder—one of the great foods of Boston. Had to mix up the ingredients a little, but the basics remain the same."

"What's a clam?" Gage asked, prodding the thick mixture tentatively with his spoon, noting with some apprehension it was glowing faintly blue.

"It's a…" Bossanova paused, frowning. "I don't really know how to describe a clam. The closest thing I've found are mirelurk hatchlings, and they seem to do the trick. Add some tatos, onions—"

"What's an onion?"

"—and brahmin-sourced bacon and cream," Bossanova went on, talking over him, "and you get something almost as good as the pre-war mix." She grinned at him. "A little different to my usual eggs."

"Why is it glowing?"

"I had an easier time getting hold of Nukalurk eggs from the Bottling Plant and maturing a few into hatchlings for the meat. It's safe to eat. I tried it myself first."

"Radiation doesn't hurt you, though."

"True. I'll give you some radaway if it's a problem."

Gage laughed. "Hold that thought." He spooned a bit and took a sip. The flavour was...subtle. There was a fishy taste he associated with mirelurk meat, but it blended nicely with the cream and whatever else she said she'd put in. Suddenly he was ravenous, and he wolfed the whole thing down in a matter of minutes.

Bossanova looked relieved. "Glad your appetite is back."

Gage tossed the spoon carelessly into the bowl as he leaned into his chair, feeling sick again. He'd eaten too much, too quickly. But damn, it felt good to be full. He burped and wiped his mouth, closing his eye as he sighed heavily. "Thanks, boss."

"For?"

"Damn, I dunno." He shrugged. "Giving a shit, I guess. It's been...the last few weeks ain't been great." Gage clamped his lips shut, realising he'd said too much. He waited for Bossanova to leap on his words and pry for more, but she said nothing. A second later he heard a scraping noise, and he opened his eye to see she'd picked up his bowl and taken it away.

Noticing he was looking at her, Bossanova glanced over her shoulder and smiled. "You're welcome, Gage."

An odd heat rushed through his cheeks, and he felt the sudden need to get out. Stretch his legs. Do something other than sit here like an idiot. Gage leapt to his feet, noting he wasn't as dizzy as before, mumbled an excuse, and hurried out of the Grille without a backwards glance.

The walk around Nuka Town didn't really help matters. The Disciples were still stalking him, even with their new bit of territory, and he felt tense, constantly expecting to run into Jack. He also couldn't shake the idea he was missing something.

It was only as he saw the same two Disciple women for the fourth time in half an hour, and he reached for the comfort of a gun, he realised what was absent: his rifle.

Sure, he had his sidearm, but that was for when he was in a pinch. If shit really hit the fan, Gage would need his main weapon, and he'd only gone and left the fucking thing right there on the coffee table.

Cursing under his breath, Gage turned on his heel and marched back towards the Grille, hoping Bossanova wouldn't notice his fuck up. But as he climbed the steps—like hell he would trust that rickety old elevator—and drew close to the door leading to the main parlour, he heard something that drove all thoughts of his gun away.

Someone was talking, and they had mentioned Jack's name.

Gage paused. On the one hand, he didn't feel the need to skulk and hide in his own sanctuary. He was above that and the boss would tell him anything she heard. But his pride was fickle, and the idea of Bossanova knowing he was desperate for any scrap of information about Jack—how she was doing, and whether she was...if she'd found another…

No. He couldn't bear anyone to see him like this. So he crept forward, his stomach churning as he pressed his ear against the door and listened hard. And to his greatest surprise, he realised he recognised the hushed voice talking with Bossanova.

Gage frowned.

Sarah.