10. Just One of Those Things
So goodbye, dear, and amen
Here's hoping we meet now and then
It was great fun
But it was just one of those things
Three Weeks Earlier
Staring at the Vault suit and naked as the day she was born, B just felt like an imposter. Truth had a funny way of doing that to her but all those years wearing one, living in the Vault, they'd been lies. She was nothing more than a pretend Vaultie. For all her clean teeth and clean habits and healthy hair, she was a Wastelander, just like everyone else out here. The girl she'd been had been left behind in the vault with her name. Maybe she deserved to be there. She was the fake, the liar, the Nosebleed with the ridiculous name and something to prove because of it. She'd always had something to prove.
In there and out here.
Then her eyes fell on the raider clothing she'd cleaned and prepared to sell to Moira. There were only a few bloodstains she hadn't been able to get out and as much as the idea of wearing a dead woman's clothes made her skin crawl, she didn't want to stay in her Vault suit. She...couldn't. She didn't belong in the Vault. She didn't. Tears prickled in her eyes as grief crept back into her heart and she took a shaky breath as quietly as she could.
With a glance back at Leo sleeping in her bed, she dressed. Every time Leo's snores stuttered, she froze, once with the uncomfortably short shorts halfway up her legs. B had lost weight since leaving the Vault and it showed in how loose her Vault suit had gotten. But even then, she had to suck in her stomach to do up the button. There were buckles and straps and she had no idea what to do with most of them.
It was while she was pulling on her boots that her hair fell into her face. Her heart sank further but she ignored it until she finished, when she braided her hair over her shoulder and tied off the end with a leather strip. She didn't want to cut her hair off. But if she was going to be off traveling, she didn't want to be sleeping on a bun. B went to put on her ball cap and paused. She folded her Vault suit, carefully laying it on the desk in her room. One hand stroked along its familiar lines, then she set the hat next to it.
It was time to stop hiding.
Butch's jacket lay in a heap on the floor. She picked it up and went to hang it over the back of her chair but found herself unable to let it go. Her entire life may be a lie but that jacket was a much needed reminder of what she had been, and what she'd left behind, what she would always leave behind.
She didn't bother to try to stop the tears slipping down her cheeks when she turned to look at Leo. He deserved better than this. Any of it. Her leaving in the middle of the night like this was a dick move and she knew that. But she also knew she couldn't stay.
The ache between her thighs was something she'd felt before and she was grateful that this time she didn't want to cry with every tiny movement she made. This time had been...enjoyable. This time she didn't want to claw her skin off to remove his touch. Still, she also knew what she could have just done and couldn't believe she'd been so stupid. There were a lot of stupid, regrettable things she'd done in her life, even in the safety of the Vault. There were several things that she regretted above all others but this? Sleeping with Leo was hands down the single dumbest she'd ever done. If anything had...happened, she needed her dad. He would know what to do. Even if… She knew it was more dangerous out here. Her mom was proof of that.
If it hadn't been for her-
B shook her head, cutting off those thoughts. Literally no use feeling that guilt again. She couldn't change it.
She opened the door, wincing at the creak. Dogmeat, lying outside her door, lifted his head. "Come on, boy. Let's go," she whispered.
"Miss B, are you well now?" Wadsworth whirred as one of his eyes peered up at her.
"Volume down 30%," B ordered quietly. "Wadsworth, I need to go away for a bit. I finally have a lead on my dad and I can't… I've already wasted too much time here. I need you to keep an eye on our house, guard it, keep it clean. Adam and Leo are fine to be in here, same as Lucas Simms. The kids are okay although keep one of your eyes on them if they come in. No one else."
"Do you know how long you will be away?"
"No. I'll come back though. I hope." B opened her front door and turned back to the Mr. Handy. "Thank you, Wadsworth. Volume back up to normal levels." She closed the door, Dogmeat at her side. She exhaled, looking up at the setting moon. Then she and Dogmeat set off.
The sun was peeking over the horizon when she stopped at Meresti, making her way back through the tunnels. "B? What's up with that getup?" Robert asked her as she approached.
"I'll explain later."
"Hold you to that." He dipped his chin and moved to the side.
When she entered their stronghold, Holly was nearest and turned in her seat at the sound of footsteps. Her eyebrows lifted. "You look damn good but what's the occasion?" She stood and sauntered over.
B swallowed hard. "I'm trying reality on for size. I don't quite know how it fits yet."
As flimsy as the teenager's attempted smile, Holly's smile was just as tender by comparison. "Come here." She opened her arms and after only a moment's hesitation, B stepped into them, ignoring how much taller she was than Vance's wife. Tears welled up in her eyes. Her lower lip wobbled. "If you need to stay here for a while, you can. The dog too. We might even promise not to eat him."
B laughed at that, pulling away with a watery chuckle. "I'd have to shoot you if you tried."
"You might wear the Wasteland yet. What did you come down into the tunnels for?"
"Oh!" Brightening immediately, taking any opportunity to focus on something other than her compounding losses, B unslung her pack and opened it. "I've got some bloodpacks for you. One is fresh. The others I picked up while I've been out and about. Sorry." She winced apologetically. "I'm going traveling and I don't know when or if I'll be able to resupply so if you have anything to spare-"
"I thank all of our lucky stars that you came out of that vault when you did." B looked up to see Vance descending the stairs.
She didn't have a guarantee that she would have died in the vault if she'd stayed. But she also probably would have only lost her dad, rather than also her dad. "I wouldn't say lucky. Unless we're talking bad luck."
"Only if you choose to look at it that way. What did you need from us?"
"As many stimpacks as you can spare and I may need more Radaway. And if you have any ammunition for my gun. I have a bad feeling I may need it." The muscles in her jaw tightened as she looked down, unwilling to meet anyone's eyes.
"You sound like you have a journey ahead of you, young one."
B frowned as she lifted her head. "I'm heading into the DC ruins to look for my dad."
Gasps echoed around her and the low buzz of conversation came to a screeching halt. B closed her eyes just long enough to remind herself that she trusted them before straightening her back from where she crouched, hunched over her pack.
"You're not going into the tunnels, are you?" Justin asked, bounding up to her. It was only at her slight flinch that he didn't completely invade her personal space.
"I'm trying to get to the GNR building. So if that takes me through the tunnels, then yeah."
Horrified glances were exchanged. Vance's eyes closed and he bowed his head, just a little. "Oh, sweetie." Holly's face had enough sympathy to drown a cat.
"It can't be that bad," B insisted as she stood, wanting to hear that she probably wouldn't die there. The fact that everyone seemed to want to avoid the DC ruins pretty much just made everything worse and she just wanted someone to say that she had a good chance at survival. Even if they were lying.
"Have you ever faced super mutants or ferals before?" Justin asked. Even as dim in their home as it was, she could see his eyes darken and mouth pinch at the corners.
"No?" She remembered that she'd never asked Billy Creel if what she'd seen had been supermutants. She hoped so. They were ugly enough that she didn't want to find out what they were called if they weren't.
"Super mutants are dumb as shit and can't see too well, but they hate humans, especially Vault Dwellers. They eat some and drag others away. We don't know why or where," Holly told her. Dumb as shit, can't see well. Yup. That sounded like the things Dogmeat had saved her from.
B blinked. "And no one's tried to study them?"
"If anyone has, they haven't survived it."
"Ferals are just as bad," Justin interjected. "If you get swarmed by them, you're done for, and they infest metro tunnels like radroaches. Don't let them get close."
B paused to consider. She could tuck her tail between her legs and return to Megaton, deal with the situation with Leo that she so didn't want to touch with a ten foot pole. It would be the safer option, the option least likely to get her killed. Theoretically. Andy might kill her on principle for hurting his brother and she knew leaving would have and boy, if she didn't have enough guilt over her decision. People didn't just say...that… They didn't in the Vault and out here where survival wasn't guaranteed, she doubted it was said any more frequently. But on the other hand, while her having been born in the Wasteland was, based on available information, the most likely conclusion to be drawn, she still needed him to confirm that. Moriarty could have lied, told her what he had to manipulate her. More than that, though, she didn't want to deal with possibly being pregnant out here alone. Pregnant. She sighed, kicking herself for acting emotionally and recklessly. She knew better. "I need to find my dad. I need answers and he might be willing to give them to me now." The fact that she knew she was running away didn't change that. Ironic that her fear of pregnancy was greater than her fear of death considering the two went hand in hand in her experience.
Holly put a hand on the younger woman's shoulder. B twitched under the contact but otherwise didn't dislodge it. "If you make it back out alive, stop by. You're always welcome, B."
B's eyes went to Vance who nodded with all the solemnity she was starting to associate with him.
Dogmeat remained at her side while she picked up her supplies and settled them into her pack. When she was ready to head out, she paused, looking back at the gathered Family. "Be careful." Vance said, hand lifted.
She nodded, eyes flicking to Justin. "Let Alan know that I'll be gone and can't bring them supplies." At his low murmured affirmation, B shifted the weight of her pack on her shoulders and headed back out.
She ran into a couple of molerats that Dogmeat scared off to his disappointment, but otherwise the trip was entirely uneventful, and despite Butch's jacket, she grudgingly admitted that the raiders had a point. The breeze when it kicked up actually cooled her off instead of making her sweat more like her Vault suit did, and she could feel the wind against her skin, which was nice. Unfortunately, her new duds resulted in her feeling more exposed and actually being more exposed to everything. This included bullets, and the sun. She didn't dare stop to check her legs, knowing that while she'd had a while to get used to the sun, at least her shoulders had, her legs had never seen the light of day in her life. Or well, maybe they had, right after she was born but she could already feel them burning and found herself praying that her skin would be fine and she wouldn't get skin cancer or something like that. Because that would be her shitty luck.
She abruptly forgot about the sun when she rounded the corner of a partially collapsed building and came face to face with the single most hideous mutated creature she'd ever seen in her life. Dogmeat snarled and whined, backpedaling into a rock. B and the mutation stared at each other. B could hear the slick slide of the tongues as they moved.
Then it lunged. B tried to avoid its lashing tongues (tongues!) as she stumbled back but one brushed across her chest, another slapped against her upper thigh and the wounds burned. Almost immediately her leg gave out and she cried out as she dropped to the dirt. Pebbles and grit dug into her knee, barely a pinprick compared to the acid spill sting from her other wounds. Then Dogmeat was there, teeth and claws tearing into the creature. It was slow turning on its human hands and Dogmeat was never in the same place, dancing around the monstrosity.
B fumbled for her 10mm. Pain had her hands shaking but she fired at its head, once, twice, three times. It collapsed, twitching, a trail of reddish blood leaking from the bullet hole dead center in its forehead. One out of three. That was crap. She fell back onto her forearms, eyes screwed shut and every muscle in her body tensed. She didn't dare look at her thigh. The tongue across her chest had only scorched the shirt but even just the damp fabric burned. Dogmeat retrieved a stimpack and nudged her until she took it.
She braced, muscles tensing, and then she jammed the needle into her thigh, compressing the syringe. One heartbeat passed, then two, and then the prickling sting started. She clamped down on her lower lip hard enough that she worried she'd drawn blood to hold back the scream building. Damn stimpacks. The sting moved to her chest though the majority remained down in her thigh, stitching back together her skin and muscle, accelerating the healing. A high-pitched whimper tore out of her throat. If this was anything like an acid or radiation burn, she knew that it would scar.
"I hear something!"
Of course. Super mutants. Had to be. She eyed the monstrosity near her side. Was it like...their dog? She hadn't had a chance to actually look at it and, holy shit, it had so many hands. B started to get a little nauseated and put her head down into her hands. The corpse might have reeked too. She wasn't sure. Everything smelled disgusting out here.
She grimaced as the prickling started to migrate to tiny little scrapes. "Come on, come on, come on, come on."
"Human smells!"
"Hungry!"
"Where is it?"
Two? Was that three? B couldn't tell. They all sounded alike but she was pretty sure there were at least two. Maybe. Her knuckles creaked and she loosened the tight grip she had on her pistol. Carefully, trying not to make much sound, she checked the number of bullets.
Not enough time to reload. Shit. Okay.
She looked at Dogmeat. The dog was silent, hackles raised, ears forward, eyes on her. If she had to guess, it almost looked like he was waiting for her cue. She'd never had the chance to test out how smart he was. No time like the present because otherwise she didn't think she'd survive this.
I hate D.C.
AN: So I've never been to DC and I can't say whether or not I'd hate it. I imagine that if every time you turn around, you have something trying to kill you so you have to kill it, that would cause you to feel rather strongly about wherever you're at.
Also, those centaurs, am I right? Hate those things. Give me a pack of deathclaws over centaurs because ew and ah. Nightmare fuel.
Gonna wrap this up because my cat, AKA the demon child, is aggressively demanding my affection. And giving my toe love bites. Title and lyrics from Anita O'Day's song "Just One of Those Things" from 1959.