12. Troubles, Troubles, Troubles
Troubles, trouble, troubles, troubles is all in the world I see
Troubles, trouble, troubles, troubles is all in the world I see
Oh sometimes I wonder, wonder what is gonna become of me
B was lost.
She was lost and panicking and hungry and exhausted. But she had to keep going.
The first night she holed herself up in a closet and passed out, fingers tangled in Dogmeat's fur.
Yelping and clawed fingers woke her up.
She scrambled for a weapon, bucking the feral ghoul off of her. Then it was back at her, radiation soft teeth sinking into her thigh. B made a sound somewhere near a scream but harsher than any sound she'd ever made before. The base of her throat burned and throbbed.
Somehow she killed the ghoul, its blood spraying over her. She lay there, chest heaving. She kicked the dead ghoul off of her.
Dogmeat nosed her, muzzle sticky. "No, I'm...I'm good." Her voice rasped harshly and she winced at the sound. Every swallow made it feel like she had a lighter against her throat again. Lying to a dog. Great. This was an all new low for her.
She spied a long dead skeleton slumped in an office chair. A broken bit of mirror was still clutched in one bony hand, the remains of the mirror on the floor. She crawled over to the mirror, every movement causing her thigh to throb, and angled it so she could see the damage to her throat, fingers carefully carefully probing. A thin line of blood oozed out from the deepest point, staining her shirt further. But it didn't look like it was anything but a superficial wound, for which she was grateful and apparently very lucky. Still, she stabbed a Stimpack into her leg just above the bite. She didn't depress the entire syringe into her system, enough to nearly close up her leg.
The next night found her barricaded in a former office as a pair of massive supermutants bellowed and pounded outside. Blood ran down Butch's jacket from a bullet hole in her upper arm but she ignored it.
Teeth bared, straining to keep the door closed, B was braced against it even as she tried to get a filing cabinet in the way. The only blessing that she had was that the two super mutants were too stupid to just open the door but they were strong enough to break it down.
It was only a matter of time before one of them got smart or lucky or both. Probably lucky but anything could happen. Grunting from both pain and effort, her eyes fell on her pack. An idea slammed into her mind but it was so completely insane that she almost dismissed it.
But then the metal door frame cracked.
"Dogmeat." The word sent licks of fire through her throat but the injured dog lifted his head at his name, whining. "Hide." Dogmeat picked himself off the floor, favoring his shot hind leg, and limped over to a desk shoved in a corner. He slipped underneath it.
B closed her eyes, feeling fear and adrenaline thrumming through her blood. "One. Two." She lunged for her pack. Thud. She fumbled at her pack for a pair of grenades. Thud. The metal groaned and the outline of a large fist appeared when she glanced at it.
"Puny human!"
The voice was low, harsh and she nearly dropped one of the grenades. Then an even more insane idea popped into her head. Pulse mines wreaked havoc on machines and that was the common use for them. But they could also cause temporary paralysis in living creatures.
And she'd just happened to have found one that wasn't live.
She set the grenades down to fish it out of her pack. Thud. The hinges began to creak. Despite the thumping sounding in her ears, B flattened herself as much as she could on the ground. Clever, scarred fingers set to work arming the mine.
Thud.
With effort because of the buckling metal, B didn't bother to second guess the insanity of what she was doing and forced the door unlocked. Before the super mutants thought to take advantage of the now open entrance, she tossed the mine out of the door. She quickly backed away and to the sidem planting herself against the stone wall as much as she could and careful not to touch the door itself.
"Hey, what's this-" One of the super mutants must have tried to pick it up or poke it or something because B felt the fine hairs on the back of her neck stand on end as the pulse mine blew. Shielded as she was by the door and the wall, she was mostly unscathed though her skin buzzed.
Still, she wasn't done. They were still alive and she didn't think she'd be able to aim with a gun. She scrambled for the grenades again, landing heavily on her knees and feeling them bruise as she landed. She pulled the pins out and tossed them through the open door as well. Time seemed to slow down as she scrambled backwards, fleeing back towards the wall.
And the grenades went off just as the tingle down her spine from the pulse mine faded. The door blasted open, catching her in the arm and wrenching her shoulder when it kept going, temporarily pinning her against the wall. The stones cracked closest to the blast. She heard them even through the boom and her ringing ears.
An agonized bellow told her that at least one was still alive so she peeled herself off the wall, teeth gritted against the deep throbbing pain in her shoulder. She picked up her gun and snaked around to the entry. B looked the remaining super mutant in the eyes before she raised her 10mm and fired. A neat hole appeared in its forehead, greenish blood trickling as it slumped forward.
She lowered her gun, staring at her dead enemies. It should have worried her that she wasn't feeling anything. Well, pain. Lots of that but emotionally, nothing. Though she supposed that if she was feeling something, she wouldn't be worried about not feeling it.
Emotions were funny that way.
Her knees buckled and it was only then that she realized under the pounding adrenaline was bone shaking exhaustion. She hit the floor, wincing. She reached for her pack, missing a couple times which prompted an irritated growl, and pulled out a stimpack. "Here, Dogmeat." She watched and waited as he dragged himself out from underneath the desk and over to her. It was a testament to his living out in the Wasteland his whole life and the care his former master gave him that he didn't seem to notice the stimpack as it healed his leg.
B looked at the dead super mutants and her nose wrinkled. Staying here meant risking scavengers showing up to eat them. If anything was brave enough to eat super mutant. She certainly wasn't and from the way Dogmeat didn't even sniff in their direction, neither was he. And he'd tried to eat the rotting brahmin corpse after his bath.
She sighed. "Let's go, Dogmeat."
She finally made it out of the metro system on the third day. She didn't know how long she stood there, head tipped back soaking in the sunlight until she began to sweat under Butch's jacket. But being under the sky, feeling the hot wind and sun on her face soothed the stress she'd been under.
"Little human!"
Her eyes snapped open and she dove behind a pile of rubble that only on second glance did she realize was pockmarked by bullet holes gouged into the stone. She growled a noise, readied her gun, and slid from cover with a sharp whistle to Dogmeat.
Her next foray into the tunnels was easier, a little more sleep, fewer big enemies. But the walls started to press in on her mind and her skin crawled with the need to get out. During the day, Dogmeat eased her anxiety with tail wags and gentle energy. At night, curled up at his side, it was Butch's jacket that kept her sane when the silence made her want to scream. If she'd wanted to risk attracting attention, she would have turned on her Pip-Boy's radio. But she didn't. She couldn't.
It was night when she got out, scrambling up the stairs and throwing herself to the ground, pack sliding off her shoulder to hit the ground with a clatter and a thump. Dogmeat whined, pressing his nose against her cheek. "I'm good. Good. Yeah. Fine. I don't want to go back in. Tunnels aren't...No."
Her hands began to tremble so she pressed them more firmly against the stone. Eventually, the tremors faded and she stood, brushing off her knees and wincing when her hands made contact with the bruises she had. Gunshots and a number of whooshing sounds started up. B frowned. It didn't sound like a normal firefight. The whooshes, whatever made that sound, were clustered together while the gunshots were as scattered as normal. A burst here, drawn out there.
She looked down at Dogmeat. "Well, what do you think, boy? It's a really bad idea to investigate but I think that's in the direction we're supposed to be going."
He woofed at her, tail wagging.
"Okay. Well…" She bobbles her head, debating. "We haven't died yet." Another cluster of whooshes. "And I want to know what that sound is so I can identify it later. Definitely for survival and not because I'm curious. Curiosity killed the cat. I'm not curious." Dogmeat cocked his head and whined. "Shut up. I'm not." She hauled her pack back onto her shoulders, adjusting them so the weight wasn't sitting on the bruises there.
The silence was eating at her but now that she was out of the tunnels, she turned her Pip-Boy radio on, making sure that the volume was low. When she got close enough, she could hear voices. Human and super mutant. She rounded a corner to see super mutants fighting people in...were those suits of power armor? What on earth? She watched the fight. Some of the super mutants had giant gun that spun and sprayed bullets. Whatever the power armor was made of wasn't allowing the bullets to pass through. Or maybe the guns wasn't working properly to allow the normal amount of force because they looked like they should just shred through the metal plating like paper. B's eyes narrowed. Who were these people?
They fired on the super mutants, answering one of her questions. The whooshing sound came from the rifles the power armor wearing people used, rifles that shot red energy that lit up the darkness. Laser rifles? She thought those were just a stunt used in propaganda vids from before the war.
One of the humans darted forward, surprising for how heavy the power armor looked, to grab the gun from one of the super mutants and tossed it in her direction. B yelped and dodged out of the way, incurring notice from one of the humans. She was close enough that even though it was dark out, she could tell that one, the one nearest to her, was a young woman, maybe about her age, hair shorn short.
The gun smashed into a brick wall, showering her and Dogmeat with bits of brick. Another cluster of whooshing, a heavy groan from one of the super mutants and then silence save for the radio on her Pip-Boy. B shook her head, dislodging some of the debris from her hair. "You there!" B lifted her head at the call. Another of the humans stomped over, probably not deliberately but power armor didn't look like it it was built to be anything but hulking and loud. Then again...she eyed the one who had moved in close to the super mutant. "Look, I don't know who you are but you don't belong here." The woman stopped in front of B.
B straightened, glaring up at the woman. Blonde, burn scar across one cheek, probably from a laser rifle. It wasn't very many people B had encountered out here taller than her but it seemed likely the power armor helped with the height, making the woman look more formidable. B gestured at the woman's scar. "Excuse me? At least I'm surviving out here without a tin can suit of armor. You don't know anything about me."
"You're a Wastelander. I'm Brotherhood. That's all I need to know."
Brotherhood. Three Dog had mentioned them. Something about "fighting the good fight." Whatever that was. Her eyes narrowed further. Who gave her the fucking right to act so superior? "So you've gone head to head with a mirelurk with no armor and a pistol? Congrats. I misjudged you."
The woman paused. "What's your name?"
"I'm called B. You?"
"Sarah Lyons."
B couldn't help the small smile. "As in African big cat with the mane?"
"No, that's i-o-n-s. I'm y-o-n-s."
B paused to spell it on her head, gauging it against pronunciation. Then she shrugged. "Okay. Who are these people?"
Sarah took long enough to speak that B raised an eyebrow. "Lyons Pride."
The words were quiet. B smiled more broadly. "Nice pun. I like it. So what are you doing here?"
"The Super Mutants have overrun our brothers at the Galaxy News Radio building, and we're headed there to back them up."
Again with the superiority. "Galaxy News Radio. Cool. That's where I'm going too." B grinned broadly, making sure to show her white, straight teeth.
Sarah paused again, looking a lot more uncertain. "You can tag along if you want. But keep your head down and try not to do anything... stupid."
"I won't if you won't."
One of the men started chuckling and B's attention immediately snapped to him. "Man, I like this one." Her muscles uncoiled a little though she couldn't have ignored the way her heart rate had picked up a little. "Can we keep her?"
Sarah glared at him. "Let's just move out."
B kept to the back of the group, watching their dynamics. The man who'd spoken, Paladin Glade he told her though the title meant nothing to her, seemed to enjoy her company. She was surprised by how quickly she warmed up to him. But she asked questions about the weapons she'd seen that she hadn't had words for and he seemed to relish answering. The thing Nip had carried was a missile launcher and never was she more grateful he decided to talk to her instead of firing it. She also had words for miniguns, sometimes carried by the super mutants and sometimes by other members of the Brotherhood, and what Glade carried. He showed off his gatling laser with pride when asked.
When they came across super mutants, the uglies usually paid full attention to the Pride, allowing B to slip around to the side or the back. Dogmeat would pull one to the ground, teeth sinking into a calf so B could shoot it in the head twice.
After the third pack of doing that, the rest of the Pride seemed to, grudgingly, accept that she was halfway useful.
"You're doing good, kid," Glade said, bumping her in the shoulder with his gauntlet covered fist. She stumbled but quickly recovered.
"You guys are bright shiny targets. You're doing all the work."
"Still. Too bad you don't have the build for heavy weapons."
B had absolutely no desire to be on the front lines and visible like that. It was nice that he thought she could do it though. "But then what would you do?"
Glade boomed out a laugh. "A witty tongue. Lyons, would you-"
"It's a bad idea, Glade."
"Just think about it."
"Are we getting close?" B asked as the sun started to lighten. She needed to get some sleep but getting left behind had less appeal.
No one answered her. She looked to Glade only to see a grin on his face. They rounded the corner and B sighed.
The GNR building. Yup. Naturally she asked moments before her question would have been answered. Way to make herself look competent in front of the tin can soldiers, and damn it, Butch needed to get out of her head. If she called them that out loud, she doubted they'd be amused.
Still, she slumped against a wall, watching Sarah Lyons give orders to her Pride. The end of the journey was so close but now...she hung back, eyes on the door to the building. The Wasteland had taught her hesitance.
When a shuddering roar rumbled through the ground managing to resonate the little pebble-type debris, despite the fear that threw her heart into her throat, she closed her eyes and pinched her nose. Nothing was ever easy. She opened her eyes to hear shouting, laser fire, and to see Reddin go flying past her to hit the fountain in the middle of the square.
A missile launcher clattered out of the woman's grip a couple feet from B.
She slowly raised her gaze and immediately recoiled, pressing back up into the wall she'd been leaning on.
It looked like a super mutant. Maybe. If super mutants were...how tall was that? Eighteen feet? Twenty feet?
"Behemoth!" Sarah shouted over the whooshing of the laser rifles. Big, hulking, and stupid. Seemed apt.
"Like we couldn't see that!" Glade bellowed back. His face lit up in the glow of his gatling laser. If she looked closely enough, it looked like there were heat waves coming off it. Which made sense. Light produced heat and-
B shut her eyes, clamping down on the panicking science babble in her head.
"Get the damn missile launcher!"
One of the soldiers who had been outside her goal thudded across the square, only to be knocked to the side by the piece of building the monstrosity was using like a baseball bat. His flailing foot knocked the missile launcher closer to B.
She had to do something. She had to- But if they were getting batted around like they weighed nothing, she had no chance of survival if she got hit by the behemoth. She pressed closer to the wall, sheltered from sight, Dogmeat wrapped around her legs.
But. The behemoth was paying attention to the Brotherhood. She eyed the missile launcher. I don't know how to work it! But she had to try. She couldn't just sit there if they all died because then she wouldn't find her dad and Dogmeat wouldn't make it. That was the thought that spurred her into movement. She slid her pack off and shed Butch's jacket. Except for her hair, she was in bland, nondescript colors, and her hair was darkened by sweat and washed out by dirt and debris. The jacket just made her stand out more.
"Stay, Dogmeat." The dog whined, but sat.
B didn't look up, didn't look at the behemoth as she darted for the missile launcher. She grabbed it, muscles screaming at the unfamiliar weight. But she stood her ground. Metaphorically, of course. She was crouched, bruised knee pressed into the ground. The pain was on the backburner to the fear pounding in her ears. She remembered how Nip had held the missile launcher and lifted it up onto her shoulder. She adjusted it so that she was looking through the sights. Her forefinger found what felt like a trigger. She had no idea if they worked by trigger, had no idea if there was a safety she had to turn off.
She swung her new weapon up to look at the behemoth in the face. And then she dropped it, sighting at its neck. Necks were vulnerable.
She tensed up when she held her breath, pausing. The behemoth tipped its head back to roar. Injured? Didn't matter. She pulled the maybe trigger and was thrown onto her butt and skidding backwards. Dirt and rock embedded into her skin, slipping into her shorts and underwear.
Ears ringing she blinked through the smoke, barely registering a pained bellow. "Oh, boy." Shook her head, trying to reorient herself, B heard what might have been shouting. Who? What?
A steel covered arm scooped her up around the middle, startling her enough that she dropped the missile launcher. Don't drop the fucking gun in the dirt! She heard Jericho's snarl in her head again. Then, she found herself pinned between warm metal and a wall.
B went limp, panic overriding everything else. An earth shifting thud threw a wave of dust and dirt over her and whatever, whoever had a hold of her. She coughed, starting to struggle. Have to get away. Have to escape have to-
"Whoa, hey. Easy there. Fight's over. You're safe."
The words were tinny, didn't make sense. Not safe. He's back, he'll always be back, he'll always-
B was released and she staggered away. Breathing. Control the breathing. No passing out.
Then Dogmeat was there, pressing up against her leg. Her fingers tangled into his fur and she dropped.
Shaking. Was she shaking? She couldn't tell. Panic attack. Hadn't had a real one in a while. Yay. She put her head between her knees, keeping a grip on Dogmeat. Sound. She needed sound.
She flipped the switch for the radio by rubbing it against her chest, other hand occupied by Dogmeat's fur.
"The boys and girls in Steel are looking on edge and I've been hearing a firefight outside. It's quiet now so I'll bring back the music. Keep fighting the good fight, children!"
Three Dog drew out that last word like he always did and while that normally irritated her beyond belief, right now it was something familiar and she relaxed infinitesimally. Jack Shaindlin came on and B's left hand fell to the ground. She scratched at the cracked concrete before clenching that hand into a fist that still trembled violently. Her ribs burned along the scar running nearly the length of her torso.
When her heartbeat stuttered, she closed her eyes. Someone spoke to her. She didn't know who, couldn't make out what was being said. Three songs later and B felt okay enough to uncoil from her upright fetal position. She opened her eyes and lifted her head.
Glade was crouched near her, not near enough to touch and she felt gratitude wash over her. "Better?" he asked, voice rumbling low. She was surprised when she didn't flinch from it. But it was different enough that it sort of made sense. No. No, she was really just lucky it didn't set her back off. She thought she was over this. Apparently not. Still. She hadn't drawn blood this time.
She nodded slowly, eyes not leaving his. "Sorry."
"No need to apologize. You're not the only one."
B blinked, startled. The idea that someone else had her...issues… She frowned, trying to wrap her head around that.
He pointed back at the GNR building with this thumb. The gauntlet didn't quite allow him to make a full, proper fist but she got the gist. "You ready to stand up yet?"
B turned her head and pulled her head back a little when she made eye contact with Sarah Lyons, who had a surprisingly kind expression on her face. Understanding.
"I've got some tips for when you fire a weapon. If you'd like," she said, tone gentle.
B nodded once before twisting around to look the other way to see the behemoth dead, leaking masses of greenish blood all over the ruined concrete. It had narrowly missed Reddin's body but she frowned upon seeing the scene. Her eyes went over it and then saw the missile launcher barely poking out from underneath the shoulder. That was where she'd been crouching. She couldn't even muster up a jolt of adrenaline. She turned back to Glade, who immediately schooled his face away from a grimace. That position couldn't have been comfortable.
"Who saved me?" she asked.
"Gallows. He was the closest one." Glade indicated a helmeted soldier standing at the perimeter, maybe keeping watch. For a moment, the helmet turned towards her and she could see the barest dip into a nod. She returned it and the helmet went back to looking outwards.
"That can't be comfortable," B said, raising an eyebrow at Glade.
"Just wanted to make sure you were alright. Can you stand?"
B's legs were shaky when she rose but she could, hand still on Dogmeat's back. The dog bumped his head gently into her, cold nose touching her leg. Oddly enough, that helped to ground her in the here and now. It was so far beyond what she'd known that it was a good reminder of the person she was now. She still wasn't where she'd hoped to be but this one lasted a much shorter length of time than the last one had. She looked up at the building, the one that she had fought to get to. She staggered, exhaustion suddenly blasting over her.
Maybe her journey was really over.
AN: I am so sorry that this one is late. I had my cousins here and my cat got bit by something that I was worried was a black widow and shark week and now my friend is in the hospital with some sort of icky something. And I couldn't find a song for this chapter. If there are any places where I didn't finish sentences, which has happened on occasion, could you please let me know so I can go in and fix it?
The alternate chapter title is "I'm Fairly Alarmed Here" because I was watching Jurassic Park when I got this typed up. The actual title and lyrics are from "Troubles, Troubles, Troubles" by BB King 1958.
Huge thank you to Zeroclearance for the fave and follow. That made me super happy to see that.