Med-X

She let out a deep breath, a cloud of smoke that billowed out of her lungs as the cold air condensed. The chill of the room no longer had an effect upon her, and if it could, she was far too focused to give it any attention.

Come on, Nora. Get it together.

She snatched a nearby needle of Med-X and inhaled, holding her breath once more. With steady precision, she plunged the needle into her forearm, simultaneously releasing the pent up air within. She winced and murmured a curse. Needles were never her favorite. But damn if they weren't effective. The painkiller flew through her veins like a swarm of cazadors upon a herd of brahmin, and she finally began to relax. Her eye stopped twitching. Her fingers stopped shaking. Her breath felt stable. At last, everything felt fine.

She shifted, realigning her spine alongside the front side of the cryogenic chamber behind her. This room had far too many memories. She hoped the Med-X would kill her memories with her pain too. Stretching her legs out onto the icy floor, she gazed upon the blood spattered amongst it; some hers, frozen in time when she landed head first into the ground as she was released from her compartment, and some the man opposite of her: Nate. As her vision began to slightly blur, her eyes lazily rolled over to him. She couldn't remember how long it had been.

She didn't have the stomach to bury him. Call her morbid, but keeping him here in this prison was comforting. Underground, he'd rot. He'd become part of the ruin. Just another skeleton crowding the dirt. Here, he could just… stay. And she could visit him whenever she needed to, like today. The cryogenic chamber would keep him fresh. And more importantly, safe.

Her eyes began to flutter shut as drowsiness overcame her, and as she softly slept, her mind wandered to the past, to the happiest day of her life.

It had been three weeks. Last time it was a week and a half. Never before had it been three weeks late. She hadn't told Nate though; couldn't get his hopes up like previously. It was bad enough she was beginning to fall for it again. And, like the times before, it kept her up at night, haunting her with dreams of the future. No more, she decided. And so, like a thief in the night, she fled her home, escaping past the rickety, wooden bridge and down into the Red Rocket God it stayed open for so long. She nodded an awkward hello to the cashier and pretended to browse with great interest, but she knew exactly what she was after. She made her purchase, exited with swiftness, and went back to her house.

She needed to know. She couldn't wait for Nate to awaken. Too important this time. She tore open the plastic box and studied the small yet daunting blue line. She didn't really want to know. Or did she? What would happen if it was false again?

Life would just… go on? She'd continue her law career. And that statement was nonsense; that presumed if it wasn't false, she'd quit, and she wouldn't. But it would make it harder, wouldn't it? Can't exactly bring it into the courtroom. Oh sorry, Judge! May we take a fifteen minute recess so I can breastfeed? And this all boldy assumed it was true to begin with. No, no, no. Don't look, Nora. Don't look. If it's false, everything's ruined, and this beautiful, wonderful dream where you-no, not just you-we have everything that we could possibly imagine is shattered into tiny, lost fragments.

And just like that, it's gone. We can't get it back. We could try. But each time we fail, it becomes more and more daunting, and we expose ourselves to that same wound that's been there for a year now. And we've been hurting for so long. Stop trying. It's over. Give it up, Nora.

But her eyes were fickle.

She looked.

She saw two lines.

And that was that.

So immersed and entranced by the euphoric past, she didn't even hear the buzz of the vault door sliding open, nor the footsteps stepping toward her. Indeed, she only awakened when the young, brazen man making his way toward her knelt down beside her and brushed her cheek. Out of fear, she instinctively raised her fist, but the Med-X had slowed her down some. The man's reflexes were too quick, and he countered her by grabbing her forearm firmly, smirking in the process.

"Too much Med-X'll do that to you, honey. Thought you knew better than to take that sh-...stuff."

Her eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. "And I thought you knew better than to follow me, MacCready."

"You're an easy woman to track. Well, for me at least. Not difficult when we've been partners for so long."

His eyes ran across the steel vault, unaware of any significance it had. They filled with pity at the sight of the corpses frozen within their cells, but nevertheless, they remained ignorant and blissful.

"Nora, what is this place?"

"A vault."

"Smart-ass. And what are you doing in this vault?"

"Taking painkillers, Einstein."

"Oh? For what? The radroaches? Scary for you and your plasma rifle, I bet."

No response came from Nora whose eyes intently lingered on the used Med-X needle. She didn't want to admit it, but he was right. She knew better. Back then… she wouldn't have used painkillers as often as she did. But it was different now. At least, that's what she told herself. But part of her didn't truly believe that. A different time period shouldn't change her morals. She'd never let Shaun use them as she did. Why was she an exception?

A minute passed, and silence began to consume the air around them before Nora murmured, "That's… that's him. Nate."

MacCready's breath hitched in his throat. He knew the story, the rumors. They all did. But it was unspoken, and no one truly knew every detail. He shuffled uncomfortably, fumbling with his hands. He stared at the corpse of Nate before transferring his sympathetic gaze to Nora.

"I'm… I didn't… I can go, sweetie, or-"

"No."

She pulled his wrist close to her cheek, his warmth coating her like a blanket. Her eyes swirled with emotion; pain and sadness with traces of love and yearning. "Don't leave, or apologize, or whatever. Your presence is enough."

He slipped down beside her and placed his lips on her forehead. Her knees retracted, and she tightened them against her torso as her weight shifted into the arms of MacCready. Tears fell from her eyes, and she sobbed an apology to him. He ran his dirty, calloused fingers through her hair and clung to her.

The droplets of water from the frozen ice fell with a steady beat. The buzzing of the broken chambers hummed in their ears. MacCready reached across Nora to her PIP-Boy and turned on the broadcast to Diamond City Radio.

"...and that was Bing Crosby's 'Accentuate the Positive'. Remember to keep being optimistic, folks. It's hard in this desolate wasteland, but not impossible.

Next up, we have Miss Skeeter Davis' 'The End of the World'. Enjoy."