In the time I stayed on the ship, I found a new determination to try to speak. I met the people who lived and worked aboard and managed to get a job at the Muddy Rudder. It was a shit hole but I was able to keep busy. I practiced while I worked whispering to myself to avoid embarrassment. I worked hard at both my job and trying to speak. After saying 'Blake' I knew I could say other things if I had to. I got the word 'Hi' down pretty good and a few other single syllable words like Yes, No, and one two syllable word 'Okay'. I was very proud of that.

They were useful for answering Belle, when she gave me my chores list for the day, the small list was done pretty quickly after getting a routine. I laughed to myself, I started life in a giant metal maze, now I'm probably going to end my life in a giant metal maze. The only difference between the two buildings was that one was buried underground, while the other floated lazily in the water. I wondered if I would turn into the others at some point, or if I might actually break free from my vocabulary prison.

All in all I began to like life on the ship, the people were friendly enough, there was no restriction on where you could or couldn't go, the only exception being the residents' locked rooms. Not that I had interest in them anyway, I was content with minding my own business. I also found the kids on the ship liked me and often made me play games with them. Hide and seek, tag, they let me be a judge for Marco Polo after noticing I couldn't talk. It was turning out to be a pretty good life.

After the third month on the ship, I thought I'd have a heart-attack right there in the doorway of the Muddy Rudder. I was called in by Belle because a caravan guard on his day off, drank too much and puked on the floor, before trying to start a fight with the bouncer. He was immediately removed from the ship to sober up, off on the shore and that left me to come in, on my day off no less, and clean up the assholes vomit. It was the only part I hated about the job, especially if they went to eat before they came here to get sick. Unfortunately the clean up wasn't what had me on the verge of a stroke.

My eyes immediately locked onto the black leather jacket, green and yellow snake curled up the back. The guy stood at the bar, Belle giving him the sourest, eat shit and die, look. When she glanced up to spot me, she snapped her fingers at me bringing my attention to her. "HEY! Get your ass down here and get this shit cleaned up." She wasn't usually short with me, I figured the stranger was causing her bad mood.

The guy turned to see who she was yelling at and pointed at me with the dumbest smile. "EEYYY, a vaultie!" I looked at him now like the guy was crazy but went to get my cleaning supplies to clean up the mess. The guy took a gulp of his beer, "Whats your name, I'm Butch, King of the Tunnel Snakes." I dipped the mop in the water mixed with cleaner and looked at him oddly.

I realized the guy wanted to know my name so I sighed and answered. "Gary." I said flatly as I went to work.

"Vault 108, huh?" Butch kept following me around asking questions.

He wasn't Blake but he has his own bad attitude, huffing irritably every time I took too long to answer him. I had to wonder if the jacket made these guys unstable or something. "Yes" I finally answered, ringing the mop out and putting it away. I tried to finish as fast as I could, so I could get the hell out of there. And of course, Butch followed me like an irritated puppy.

"Any others from 108 around?"

"No." I glanced at my pip-boy, 11:30 p.m. sighing and kept walking, Butch still following. I needed some air, I didn't want to try to sleep with the smell of vomit and bleach in my nostrils.

The random questions thankfully have simple answers, that were either yes or no until they got to the flight deck and Butch goes quiet. I guessed he hadn't been up here yet and the view was amazing to him. I came here after working with the heavy cleaners everyday so it wasn't anything new to me but I couldn't forget the first time I saw it. I figured he was having the same reaction to it. It was rather stunning and I laughed solemnly to myself. When did I become so bitter?

I took a deep breath and extended a hand for an actual greeting with Butch, instead of brushing him off with half assed sarcastic answers. "Gary." I smiled hoping Butch would understand what I was trying to do.

Luckily Butch wasn't as stupid as he acted and took it shaking my hand firmly "Butch, Butch Deloria." He replied with a smile of his own. "So, decided on being nicer now?" He asked like a smart-ass.

I only rolled my eyes but continued to smile and nodded. "Yes."

"Is that all you can say? Yes, No?"

I huffed and nodded "Gary~." I realized what I did and wanted to jump from the side of the ship. All that practice, all the times I've said the other words and out comes fucking GARY!

Butch looked at me with surprise before horse laughing and slapping his knee, "What the hell was that, man?"

I frown instead of becoming increasingly embarrassed, when he wouldn't stop laughing I shoved Butch with a deeper frown "Gaary!"

Butch shrugs off the shove, wiping his eyes free from the tears of laughter. "Oh, this is rich."

I huff and storm away, hands balled into fists at my sides. 'What a fucking jerk!' I thought, stopped, turned around and flipped him the bird. Butch took that as some sort of challenge and bolted after me, now looking angry as ever, I luckily knew every direction on the ship and was capable of dodging him all the way to my room. Locking the door just in time to hear the banging and Butch's muffled threats on the other side of the door.

I laughed to myself. I kinda liked Butch, he was a moron. I snickered at the narrow minded thought process of the gang leader. Hopefully tomorrow Butch would be gone and life could resume as normal.

I was right, Butch calmed down, commenting on my speed yada-yada and turns out he could cut hair. It was like a miracle, I was in dire need of a proper shave and a haircut and worked swiftly to get done.

Butch seemed to find humor in everything I did, for saying 'Gary' all the damn time, how flustered I got, how fast I worked. That's why he decided to set up shop in the Rudder. I guessed, that Butch was lonely without the rest of the people in his vault and latched onto me because of the suit and pip-boy. Like holding a mother's hand when meeting a stranger. Enough courage to step from behind her skirt but not sure enough to release her fingertips. I didn't seem to mind, although, Butch liked to fight and a bar is a good place to do that in.

I also wondered why Butch decided to stay, why not go home? During lunch breaks and days off, he would often tell me about life in the vault he came from. Vault 101. So what, the door was open now that didn't mean he had to stay away. I envied Butch and Blake and all the people Butch spoke about. They all have their own personality, no one looked the same, just the similarity between siblings and children to their parents.

Butch did, however, begin to understand that I was reduced to saying only my name and a very few short words. So when he would ask about Vault 108, it became a game of charades. To somewhat hear that 108 had a lot of other Gary's in it was interesting to him. I somehow explained how they were all dead except me and Butch regretted asking. Realized that they were family to me and could only imagine what would happen if all his friends and mother had been murdered. When he asked who killed them all, I got quiet and looked away.

I sighed out a breath and tugged onto the bottom corner of Butch's jacket, another bout of dejavu. "Blake.'' I said solemnly before looking back to his face.

Butch looked at me with surprise and moved to lean against the back of my chair, turning his sheers to avoid cutting himself or me. "Well…" he shook his head. "That explains a lot." He went back to cutting my hair, putting the final touches on it. "Did you know him very long?" He then asked. His focused face, flashed brief worry as he brushed the hair from my shoulders to the floor and moved to the mug he prepared shaving cream in.

I grimaced, I knew him, how well did I know him? I couldn't even attempt to say. Not because I can't but because I never really knew who Blake was as a person. I shook my head "No" I said plainly.

"Probably for the best." He slathered the foam over the hair on my face and prepared the straight razor, pulling the blade up and down along the foot long, one and a half inch wide, piece of leather tied to the back of the chair. "Blake's a headcase. Fucked up royally." He returned to my view. "Hold still and relax." He instructed as he began to cut away the coarse hair.

Doing as told, I wasn't fond of the fact that there was an extremely sharp blade being brought to my skin, so I relaxed as much as possible. My facial hair was almost an inch long, patchy from being young but thick and full in the places it covered, only a few spots remained almost hairless, the hairs there only just starting to grow in. I didn't know about how hair grew but noticing more spots filled in as the robot in Megaton had cut my beard, I knew it wouldn't be long until there were no more empty places.

From what Butch said he knew, I was right. There was something wrong with Blake and the statement 'he's a headcase' was dead on. When he was finished, Butch wiped the remaining foam from my face to reveal fresh, clean skin. "Whoa, baby face." He whistled and chuckled. I only rolled my eyes and paid him for the cut and shave.

When I went to get the broom, Butch took it and cleaned the hair up himself, "Nu-uh, it's all part of the job." He winked, finishing the sweep and handing the broom back to me. "Let's get something to eat, yeah?" He said and I smiled with a short laugh.

Luckily lunch wasn't a set hour for everyone on the ship so there was no fighting for seats at Gary's Gally. Butch pointed out long ago the irony. As we sat to eat Butch ordered for us and went to talking to the man about recent events. So far the only thing he had to worry about was the recent marriage between his daughter and the, would have been, priest. He tries his best to act happy but we can both tell he's hiding his disappointment.

Everyone was hiding something, even me. Hiding out on this huge ship waiting to catch a glimpse of Blake, before Blake sees me so I can run and hide. The security chief was hiding something, but I couldn't figure out what. Lots of secrets on this ship. When I'm alone, it's easy to settle into the habit of listening to people without them realizing it, when you're the quietest person on the ship you go unnoticed a lot.

When I sat in my room, alone, it was another thing. My mind wandered far too often to when the day came. What will happen when the day comes that Blake shows up. Would he drag me forcefully off the ship, kicking and screaming, find a way to have me banished? Would he do that…? I shuddered at the thought. Then if Blake never came, would I turn into the other clones and go mad. Begin walking the halls whispering Gaaaaaryyyy at nothing but ghosts? 'Get a grip Gary' I shake my head trying to get the intrusive thoughts to silence themselves and get some sleep.

I was making myself sick, all the thoughts of Blake lately. The feeling that he was coming, began making a pit in my gut turn over and sour. I began looking over my shoulder, jumping at shadows, even freaking out on Butch when I happened to round a corner and we ran slap into each other. The jacket flashed before my eyes and I literally screamed, as if I were being stabbed.

The reaction startled Butch, he grabbed me by the back of my arms giving me a shake. "Gary, stop!" He yelled, only to make me struggle to get away. "Jeez, Nosebleed, calm your shit down, securities lookin' at me like I'm killing you." He gives me another firm shake, my head shaking back and my eyes looked at Butch, finally seeing him and not my misconstrued nightmare.

''Gary?" I squeak out, tears beginning to well up. Butches flinches and drags me off to the flight deck for air.

"Oh no you don't. Don't you dare cry on me, twerp." He was a jerk, but in the nicest way. Butch was just, hurt your feelings and call you names, mean. Maybe a slap to the back of the head or a punch to the shoulder. He was an honest, mean. Blake was Scary, catch you off guard when you haven't done anything wrong and punish you for it, mean.

Butch released me, leaving us standing in the middle of the deck. He reaches for his pocket and pulls out a cigarette, lighting it then offers one to me. I refuse it with the shake of my head. He takes a few hits from it before looking at me with a rather disappointing look. "So you did know him." He said looking away and out over the distance. He blew out the smoke and looked back at me. "If that's true, I don't know if I want to know what he did to you. Knowing him it was something terrible."

Terrible? Terrible is putting it lightly. It was monstrous. The bruises have long healed but I can still feel them all. Every fingerprint, every tug, every press… every painful slam of his hips. The chain at my ankle sometimes felt heavy even though it was no longer attached.

Butch sighed and flicked his cigarette to one side, the wind catching it and pulling it to the other side and throwing it off. "I ain't gonna make excuses for him. Can't apologize either but…" Here it comes brothers protecting brothers "Blake has some kinda medical thing wrong with his brain." He was struggling to find the 'smart' words. "Ever since we were kids." He took a breath "His dad had him on some pills, yeah, the bastard began tossing em, And he went totally crazy."

I listened quietly, Butch was apparently ready to spill the beans all over the ship. I had to wonder why Blake would be so strange, getting to live in a vault that had people who cared about him. I went back to listening to Butch when he started talking again. "Like, there was this time, on his tenth birthday. I was invited and my ma made me go, whatever, he got stuff from people, yeah? Well I hadn't eaten all day, was hungry and he got a sweet-roll form Old Lady Palmer. Best thing you've ever tasted in your life. Anyway, the cake got destroyed and I decided to take that sweet-roll. Told'em 'Gimme that sweet-roll' and no lie, little fucker smashes it in my face, says 'hows that fucking taste you fuck'." He laughed at the memory, I just looked in astonishment. Then he continues, "I shit you not everything got quiet, even the damn jukebox skipped and stopped playing. Course me and my friends beat the shit out of him for that later but damn if that didn't take some balls to do in front of the overseer and his own dad."

"Gary~" I breathed out. I couldn't believe what I had just heard. Blake was a loose cannon with a short fuse. I shook my head and walked to the railing to lean over it, propping my elbows on the rusted metal bar. Butch just followed and did the same but crossed an ankle over the other.

''Yeah, we gave him so much hell after that, but he gave it right back." He spoke with almost admiration.

"At least I didn't cry like a bitch when I lost." The voice startled me to my core, Butch didn't seem phased only turned around with a grin. Blake stood six feet away, lit a cigarette and offered it to Butch who happily stepped over and took it. "Get lost." He said nonchalantly.

Clicking his tongue to his teeth "Hello to you too, ass." The Tunnel Snake said, shoulder checking the younger of them and stepping back to the ship's door and disappearing inside.

Blake walked closer to me, noticed the rigid shoulders and the slight shake in my body. He too leaned against the railing but braced his lower back against it looking in the opposite direction. He didn't need to look at my face to know the expression etched on it.

We stood in silence for what seemed like ages. I never looked at him directly but I could see Blake from the corner of my eye. He looked like hell chewed on him and spit him out cause he tasted bad. His eyes looked tired, bluish black shadows underneath, his hair had also been cut. The once neatly styled greaser hair cut now a short clean cut. His shoulders slumped tiredly.

I wanted to run, but I didn't understand why I was planted like a tree. I wasn't terrified, only slightly startled but his sudden appearance and when I least expected it. Butch had taken his attention away from the gut wrenching pull, so it was no wonder Blake was able to sneak up on me. The more I watched Blake the less scared I became of him.

Blake, drew in a breath, about to start talking and for some unknown reason I bolted, like lightning hit me and released the glue that had kept me still for so long. It left Blake stunned. Some unknown force was causing me to speed walk back to my room. I locked the door and paced the floor, running my hand through my hair about fifty times. 'What the fuck do I do? Why the hell did I run?' I began to sweat, it suddenly felt hotter and hotter and unzipped my suit to get some air. "He's going to be pissed… so pissed." Then I paused.

My feet moved me backwards until my knees caught the edge of my bed and I sat. Head in my hands, thoughts circling a mile a minute. In a split second decision, I grabbed my bag. Most of my belongings were still in it, what wasn't, I threw in. They say hindsight is 20/20 because I should have known Blake would be on the other side of that door but I didn't. I opened it without even looking in front of myself and ran right into Blake's chest. It hurt, like running into a wall and made me back up holding my nose. It wasn't bleeding when I checked. Then I looked up.

Blake had stepped in and closed the large door with ease. "That wasn't very nice, Gary." He scolded softly while stepping forward slowly. "I came all the way here to see you, wounded, recovering from lethal radiation exposure. And you run from me." It wasn't a question. As he spoke I never took my eyes away from Blake's mouth but instinctively backed away at the same slow pace Blake was moving forward. When I couldn't move backward anymore, Blake stopped, he was mere centimetres away from me.

I didn't understand it, I hated it but when he lent down to place a kiss at my jaw, below my ear, I leaned into it. Although I tensed when he trailed kisses along my jaw to my mouth. I had closed my eyes the moment he made contact so I couldn't see the look on his face. He kissed me gently but when I felt his hand trail up to my hair I opened my mouth before he could dig his fingers in. His other hand he had brought up to firmly dig into my hip.

Greedily he kissed me, his tongue exploring every surface even trying to get me to interact with him. When I felt the slight tug of my hair I thoughtlessly began moving my own tongue. It was almost like he had me programmed to respond, like what he did left an impression. One that told my body what he wanted, before it would feel any pain, so it would act accordingly.

At this point, even though I was scared to death, this felt kinda nice. He was being gentle with me although the hints of threat were there. He had pressed himself against me, his hands only removing themselves to pick me up and place me on the top of the desk before reporting to their original positions. When his pelvis pressed against me with a firm grind, I felt it, he knew I felt it from the shuddering gasp that sucked into my lungs.

He was hard.

I made the mistake of opening my eyes, my head tried jerking back in protest at the look I saw on his face, irritation and amusement mixed with curiosity. His hands lowered to the desk at my sides. Pulling his body away slightly, the missing heat from the contact made me shiver and I had to resist moving closer to find it again.

"Is he being good to you?" Blake suddenly said, breaking the silence, as he looked away to stare at the wall, over the top of my head. Not looking at anything in particular, just staring.

My brows furrowed in confusion, 'He' I look up, away from his chest, to meet Blake's tired green eyes. The color darkened, they now looked right into mine. They held anger but plenty of exhaustion.

Blake sighs, "Butch. Is he being good to you?" he clarifies with slight irritation growing on his face and a clenching of his jaw.

I still look confused. 'what was that supposed to mean' "Ga-ry?"

His brows knit together, slight anger forming but he was honestly too tired. "Has he fucking hurt you? Or touched you?" he asked quietly. Then a small fire lit in his eyes, my confused look spurred his anger a little higher. "Is he fucking you?"

I winced and shook my head. "No." I said not liking the implications in what he meant now. That was ridiculous, I shook my head again with more vigor and swallow, my mouth became a desert.

Blake pushes off the desk and steps back a few steps distancing himself, deep breaths, his eyes shut trying to level himself. "I didn't come here to hurt you. You can relax." He says putting his hands in his pockets and looking to the floor. "I have to go, I'm going to be gone awhile longer." he explains only half of what he wants to say before making his way to the door.

"Blake?" I ask, the way Blake is acting isn't normal for him. I figured there would be blood and fists and tears and pain. That I would have ended up a broken mess on this desk. I want to know what's really wrong with him. Where he intended to go and why he was leaving.

Blake smiled a genuine smile, and turned around so I could see. It's partly sad but happiness does show. "I'm glad you remember how to say it." He takes a breath looking up towards the ceiling momentarily before looking back to me. "There's a few things I need to do and something big I need to finish." He pauses thinking seriously. "And I need you to stay here. I need you to be safe, I…" He paused again looking down to his right then back to me with a smile full of pain and shakes his head. "Ju-just stay here." He turned back around and left, closing the door behind him.

I didn't understand what he was talking about, stay here? Don't leave? Be safe? What's happened to him, what had happened to him that caused this reaction.

I didn't know the extent to this dramatic change in Blake until I left for work the next morning. Belle fired me, my room had been paid off, it belonged to me now and until I die. Then I no longer had to pay for the things I needed; food, water all I had to do is go get it. Then Butch, he became a lot nicer and a lot less mean. We didn't pick at each other anymore. No wacks to the head, no more names, it was 'Gary' and nothing else. Harkness was also always nearby and when he was needed elsewhere one of his top guards was in his place.

Everyone was a lot nicer and it was extremely creepy, because it was like they were sweating anytime I was around. The kids didn't change though, they didn't care about the problems of adults, unless they were the direct result of that problem.

But something else was also bothering me. How I reacted when Blake showed up in my room. And the things Blake said, they replayed in my head over and over. I wandered the halls of the ship in a daze, sighing deeply and staring at the floor as I walked. I wondered if I should have ran out and followed him, refusing to let go. Then again why all of a sudden did I want to be near him at all? The circular argument between my head and my heart wouldn't stop. I had to get off this ship.