Chapter Twenty
"Unpack your Heart"
Meet me where the sunlight ends
Meet me where the truth never bends
Bring all that you're scared to defend
And lay it down when you walk through my door
Throw all of it out on the floor
Your sorrow, your beauty, your war
I want it all, I want it all
Bring your secrets, bring your scars
Bring your glory, all you are
Bring your daylight, bring your dark
Share your silence
And unpack your heart
Show me something the rest never seen
Give me all that you hope to receive
Your deepest regret dies with me
The days when you stumble and fall
The days when you grind to a crawl
The treasure that hides behind your walls
I want it all, yeah I want it all
...
Oh, I'm on your side
So shed your shadow
And watch it rise
Into your darkness
I'll shine a light
...
Bring your honor, bring your shame
All your madness, I will tame
Won't you lay down, down your guard
Share your silence
And unpack your heart
He woke in Posey's bed, but she was nowhere to be found. The copy of To Kill a Mockingbird was placed carefully on the edge of the nearby desk, as well as Posey's Pip-Boy. He sat up, streatching his arms up over his head and got to his feet, shaking some feeling back into his hands as he made his careful way down the stairs. Posey was seated, cross legged in the middle of the floor on the first level, all their guns spread out in front of her. Her fingers were blackened with gunpowder as she meticulously cleaned each of them, bowed low over her ten millimeter pistol, her cropped hair messily pulled back but with wisps of baby fine hair falling into her face. A mug of coffee rested by her knee and Jude was surprised to see Wadsworth floating towards him, a fresh steaming cup in his claw like hand.
"Good morning, sir!" Said Wadsworth cheerily, "I trust you slept well?"
"Like a rock." Said Jude, carefully accepting the offered mug. "How'd you sleep, Blondie?"
"Fine." She said, keeping her gaze trained on the pistol in her hands. "I stayed up a little longer, reading."
"You went on without me?" Said Jude in mock offense, or at least, partially mocking.
"I can go back." Se said, looking up in surprise. "I didn't think you'd mind."
"You can read ahead," he said quickly, "I was just teasing."
He sat down with his back against the bookshelf, noting the still face down picture frame. Posey turned her attention back to the task ahead of her, and Jude watched, running his thumb over the rim of his mug.
"So..." He said carefully, watching as Posey's deft fingers fitted her pistol back together, "What happened, in that book, after Jem invited Walter Cunningham to dinner?"
"How about we just read it again tonight?" Offered Posey, and although she didn't quite smile, the tense lines around her mouth and eyes relaxed a little.
"Deal." Said Jude with a slight smile, "The guns look good." He added, his eyes sweeping over their small armory.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, especially that colt."
"Colt?" Posey frowned and Jude pointed to the shining pistol she'd swiped from Burke's goon.
"A Colt MK IV. The one you got from that hitman."
"Oh yeah," Posey lifted the gun to her eyes, taking in the pearly grip and the scroll embellishment on the barrel. "I like it. It's pretty."
"Yeah," Said Jude, cracking a grin. "It is. I think it suits you better than the other jerk who had it."
"You don't think that guy was pretty?"
"Not particularly."
Posey didn't smile back, and Jude felt something twinge inside him. Before, she would have laughed, rolled her eyes and given him a bright smile and a clever comeback. And now...
He knew she wouldn't bounce back from this right away. He knew smiling was probably off the table for a while. What he didn't know was how much it was going to hurt every time he looked at her, expecting to see a grin on her features and instead being met by a blank stare.
"Odd," She murmured, getting to her feet and beginning to gather up the now clean guns, "that we haven't heard from Burke yet." She headed over to the lockers near the kitchenette began to carefully align each gun in its respective place.
"It is." Agreed Jude. "But, I doubt he knows what happened. I mean I'm sure he'll find out but it'll take a while."
Posey didn't respond, just continued arranging the guns as carefully as she could in the locker before gently closing the door. He blackened fingers hesitated on the pitted metal of the locker, drawing a pattern with her forefinger, dragging out the silence between them. Jude knew that pause. The pause that said. 'And now...what?' Gun cleaning could only have taken her an hour, an hour and a half, tops. Breakfast would have lasted maybe thirty minutes, and now, hours upon hours upon hours of nothing. Empty minutes that filled empty hours that would stretch on into empty days that lead into...what?
Back to square one. No, even worse than square one. In square one, they'd had a goal. Find Dad. Finding dad had lead to other objectives, which lead to more and more and more and the fantastic probability of changing the world, of saving it. Now, he was starting to wonder if they even had a square, or a world that was worth saving.
"You hungry?" He asked, pushing himself upward and offering Wadsworth his drained coffee cup. He hadn't even paid attention to how it had tasted.
"No."
"You wanna get out of the house, anyway?"
All he received was a shrug and Jude held back a sigh at great personal effort. He looked around the house instead, taking in the thick layer of dust that clung to everything, the blank walls, pitted with rust, the practically empty shelves. The upper level wasn't much better, and Jude was honestly surprised that a few radroaches hadn't taken up residence in their absence. Back at the Jefferson Memorial, they had managed to turn a dank, Super Mutant filled, falling down building into not only a livable space, but something almost like a home. It was one of the happiest times he could remember, and it was when he'd seen Posey practically glowing.
"This place could use a bit of a spruce up." Said Jude carefully, "Simms said we could talk to Moira about making the place homier, and honestly, a box of Abraxo cleaner can really do wonders. What do you say, Blondie. Wanna go on a supply run?"
"You go."
Her voice was soft, not really sad, not really angry. Not really anything. "Bring back a box of Abraxo and see if she doesn't have a few rags or something to clean with. I'll start sorting through the house, see if there's not something we can sell." She eyed her copy of Duck and Cover, and opened the locker again, hefting her ten millimeter pistol. "How many caps do you have right now?"
"Enough." Said Jude, and really, his short stint with Project Purity had paid off well. Very well. "We'll be fine for a few weeks. Better than fine, actually."
"Well, we can start helping Moira with her book." Said Posey, "She said she'd pay me. Just..." Her voice faded a little and she swallowed hard, a muscle in her jaw jumping as she looked hard at the floor, her knuckles whitened on her pistol. "Explain to her what happened." She finished, looking up at him, and her eyes were overbright, and her jaw clenched tight. Every muscle was taut and strained and yet she looked...frayed. "Please."
"Okay." He said softly, "I'll be right back then."
He made his slow way over to the door, but paused, his hand resting on the knob. He looked back at Posey, who was mechanically smoothing back her fuzzy hair, her hands fluttering about her person, unsure of what to do. He crossed the floor in two quick strides, and before he could over think what he was about to do, he tilted her chin up with one hand and pressed his lips to hers. Quick, simple, and over before it really began. She was looking up at him with completely dry eyes, and Jude thought that maybe, just maybe, he could see something of her old spark moving in them.
"I'll be right back." He murmured, his thumb still just under her chin. He moved it up to brush away her flyaway hair. "Don't do anything too crazy until I can either talk you out of it or be your backup, okay?"
A shadow of a smile flashed across her lips, just a ghost of her former smirk.
"No promises, Colorado."
He felt smile tug on the corner of his own lips, and he pressed them quickly against her forehead before reaching behind her to claim his own .44 magnum pistol.
"Back in a flash, Blondie."
Posey watched him go with some trepidation. Now, all she could hear was the gentle thrumming of Wadsworth as he floated about upstairs, doing who knew what, and the gentle creaking of the old house around her. Wind whistled through the many cracks and Posey looked up at the ceiling, watching the golden light fall in shafts to the floor from the patchy roof.
What the hell was she suppose to do now?
She drifted over to the bookshelf, straightening her two volumes there, running her hand over over their spines and looking almost indignantly at the grime that clung to her fingers. Really though, with all the cracks in the walls she shouldn't be so affronted at all the dust that had snuck into the house while they'd been gone. If Gob had fulfilled his role as housemate, she knew that it would have been in much better shape. He was very meticulous, and Moriarty's bar, while always full of smoke and seedy characters, was practically spotless. Well, by wasteland standards anyway. Why hadn't he stayed? What had driven him back to Moriarty's den of debt and debauchery? It didn't make any sense. She had the sudden urge to go visit him, but the thought of running into Moriarty, who Posey could guiltlessly call heartless (and on a GOOD day) was enough to send her skin crawling. It was an even less appealing prospect when she considered she'd either have to wait until Jude got back, or go without him. She wasn't sure she could enter that place without his steadying presence. She ran her fingers over her lips, thoughtful.
What was this thing cropped up between them? The easy way he'd pressed his lips to hers, the way he seemed to know when she craved his touch and when she felt like any contact would cause her to splinter, and the way he'd looked her, back at the memorial building, eyes wild and something not unlike terror when she'd told him to leave her behind. Her mind raced, frantic to latch onto something that wasn't the yawning emptiness that was slowly filling her chest. Even if it was something as stupid as trying to decide if she should call Jude her boyfriend or not.
Her fingers tapped her Pip-Boy, fiddling with the radio setting and letting the gentle lull of one of Galaxy News's instrumental tracks fill the quiet spaces in the house as she set to scouring. She couldn't stand the silence. Silence sent gears turning and her mind wandered to places she didn't want it to go. So she lost herself in the swinging and sometimes mournful notes of the same twenty songs she'd been listening to for months.
There wasn't much to be done until Jude got back with the supplies but she set to dusting with one of her tattiest undershirts, and by the time she heard the click of key in the lock, she'd already made quite a bit of progress. Jude entered, his arms loaded up with a bucket, two boxes of Abraxo cleaner and a rather sad looking broom and mop.
"That Moira," Said Jude, setting down his finds. "Don't know where she finds half this crap. You gotta see her storage room, Blondie. You'd love it. No idea how long she's been squirreling this stuff away. You need to go check it out. There's a ton of stuff for the house over there."
"I want to go visit Gob." She said suddenly, and Jude paused, looking up from his cleaning equipment into her face.
"You sure, Blondie?"
Posey only nodded and Jude straightened up.
"Okay," He said slowly, "but let me get my bigger gun if we're going over to Moriarty's. Something tells me I'm gonna need it."
Moriarty's place hadn't changed at all. Jude stood behind Posey, his combat shotgun strapped to his back and his hand resting protectively on her shoulder. Posey had only brought her new colt with her, strapped to her hip for easy reach but she didn't feel much like gunslinging today. Mister Burke himself could show up and she doubted she'd even have the will to glare at him. Luckily there was no sign of Moriarty. Posey hoped he was back clacking away at his terminal full of whispers and back stabbings, too engrossed in the town's misdoings to realize who had entered into his lair.
Gob, however, noticed them immediately, and to Posey's immense surprise, he ducked his head, shrinking back behind the counter and busying himself hurriedly with a stack of dirty glasses.
"Gob?" Said Posey, taking a careful seat at the bar. His milky eyes flitted to hers.
"Heya, Smoothskin." He said softly. "Good to se 'ya still standin'."
"Good to see you too, Gob. Although I am surprised to see you here." She gestured to the dusty and smoke filled surroundings. "Why aren't you back at the house?"
"So you're my mother now? Here to send me back to my room for disobeying?"
The answer would have been acrid had it been from somebody else but as it were, Gob's words simply sunk to the floor, too heavy and too weary to be brought up into the biting tones of sarcasm.
"I'm just curious. It was a simple offer, Gob. I didn't, I don't," she amended, "Expect anything out of it."
"I know, Smoothskin. It's just," he looked as if he would rather be anywhere else in this charred out excuse of a planet. "Some bargains aren't so easily broken."
"Moriarty made you come back? Do you want me to talk to him? I can-"
"Just let it alone, Posey!" Snapped Gob. "Quite stickin' your pretty nose where it don't belong!"
Posey drew back, stung. She could feel Jude behind her, so close that she could feel his words before she heard them as he said, in surprise,
"Hey, Gob, ain't no need to talk like-"
"Oh can it, Colorado." mumbled Gob, looking miserable. "Just cuz this Vaultie's got you wrapped around her little finger."
"Gob, what's gotten into you?" Demanded Posey, leaning forward over the bar, eyes sharp and a frown fixed on her face. "This isn't like you! What did that scumbag say to you?"
"Nothin'!" Though Gob refused to meet her gaze. He picked up a random glass and started hastily wiping it down, heedless to the fact that he was making it dirtier rather than cleaner. "Nobody told me nothin'."
Posey drew back, surveying the Ghoul in front of her with disappointment tinged sadness. "I thought we were friends." She murmured. "It was just a favor, as friends. I wasn't trying to-"
"Ghouls don't have friends." spat Gob. "Friends just end up dead. So unless you wanna buy something, am I dismissed? I've got a lot of work to do upstairs."
"Gob,"
"Catch you later, Smoothskin."
And without a second glance, he was gone.
Posey sat, nonplussed and feeling small and uncomfortable as she watched his retreating figure. "I don't understand." She said, looking back at Jude, who was also staring at Gob with knitted eyebrows.
"Somebody had to have said or done something to make him like this." Said Jude thoughtfully. "It's not like Gob to say stuff like that. He's harmless. He's-"
"Scared." finished Posey, getting to her feet. She crossed her arms over her chest, looking at the space that Gob had been occupying with unfocused eyes. "Something's not right here."
Jude looked uneasily towards the back room, where Moriarty had to be lurking, then around at the usual occupants of the bar. Nobody seemed to have taken notice of them, and yet Jude was clearly on edge.
"Come on," He muttered, taking her hand and tugging her towards the door. "We're not doing anyone any favors hanging around here any longer."
Posey wanted to protest, but she felt suddenly exhausted, and without comment, let herself be steered out of the bar.
Adam Hiller always followed orders. He'd learned from a young age that strict obedience was usually the way to avoid a lot of problems. Do what the larger, more heavily armed people told you to do and do it without question. That's probably why'd he'd survived as long as he had, a scrawny fifteen year old with no experience wandering around the Wastes. And it was a trait that had served him very well in The Brotherhood of Steel, a trait that had won him a lot of brownie points with his superiors, and that had been the cause of much jeering among his peers. He'd been called spineless, a brown noser, and a host of other things that he didn't feel much like repeating.
But now, facing these two 'Paladins' he felt a prickle of doubt and his palms began to sweat beneath his Power Armor.
"Well," came the snappish, crackling voice of the one to his left. "Move it! Or did you not understand when I said that you're being reassigned for your guard duty?"
"If I'm being reassigned who's going to cover the west wall?" He demanded, "It's where we've got the heaviest attacks from Super Mutants, the one facing the D.C. ruins!"
"What do you think we're here for, jackass? Star Paladin Cross wants to speak with you, she's waiting in the C ring for you."
Adam fired at the man in front of him and before his companion could react slammed the butt of his laser rifle into his chest, knocking him backward. Before he could regain his footing, Adam lashed out, kicking the man back and sending him tumbling down the incline of the hill leading up to the Brotherhood's Citadel. He quickly pursued him down the embankment, kicking the man's weapon away and ripping off his helmet.
"There is no C ring, jackass." Said Adam coolly, aiming his rifle between the man's eyes. "Now, who are you? And why are you here?"
The man spat up at him, and Adam didn't even flinch as the spittle spattered across his helmets' eye shields.
"Spitting at a guy fully encased in armor," He remarked, cocking his head to the side. "You were clearly the brightest in the bunch." He charged up his laser rifle, listening to the gentle whine and smiling to himself as the weapon grew warm beneath his fingers. "Who sent you?"
The man smirked up at him and Adam bristled, though all of these actions were concealed beneath his heavy Power Armor.
"I don't have time for games." He said shortly, his voice staticy and even more impatient over the Radio's fault transmission.
"No, I'm afraid you don't, Mister Hiller."
Adam whirled around but his suddenly felt his whole body seize up as his vision went white, electricity dancing across his metal casing and seeping into his skin. As he crashed into the ground, the only thing that crossed his mind was, what an idiot he'd been not to call for backup.
"Mister Hiller, at attention if you please."
Adam's head was pounding and he felt stiff and sore. Ropes were cutting into him and the cold of the metal chair beneath him was soaking into his bare skin. Where was his armor? Where was he?
"It's as you said, Hiller. We haven't got all day."
The voice was cold as the metal beneath him and sharper than any Brotherhood commander, and pierced Adam right to the very center of his pulsing brain. His eyes fluttered open. The man in front of him was cut from steel, but he looked the farthest thing from a Brotherhood member. His grey hair was viciously parted, and his clear blue eyes flashed dangerously. His harsh, unfamiliar accent echoed in his head and Adam winced, closing his eyes again and drawing his chin towards his chest.
"Where the hell am I?" He demanded, squinting up at the man. "Who are you?"
"Don't worry. We're actually not too far from your precious citadel. I understand your brother has been aiding and abetting a traitor to this great country of ours," Said the man, raising his grey, perfectly formed eyebrows at Adam, "not that that would mean much to a traitor like yourself."
Adam's blood ran cold. Jude. They were talking about Jude. How did Jude always manage to get himself on the bad side of all authority figures?
"What do you want from me?" He asked. The man smiled. It did nothing to improve his features.
"To the point, Hiller. I like that. What I want is for you to have a sense of patriotism." He said loftily, rocking forward slightly on the balls of his feet and clasping his hands in front of him. All of his movements were crisp, pointed, and deadly. "I want you to aid your country."
"I was under the impression that that's what I was doing back at the Citadel," Said Adam, trying (and failing) to match the man's sharp, authoritative tone. "protecting what few people this country has left to protect."
"Well isn't that just heroic." Said the man sardonically.
"If you've got to have a point here, Colonel. I'd suggest you make it."
"Glad to see the brotherhood is actually paying attention to what goes on between their initiates ears these days. I take it you know who I am?"
"Autumn." Spat Adam, " Colonel Autumn, commanding officer with the Enclave and I repeat, Colonel. What the hell do you want from me?"
"We need the girl." Said Colonel Autumn succinctly, looking down at his black gloved hands and tugging on the ends of them, flexing his fingers, making the leather creak. "We don't care about the surly mechanic. Which makes him expendable when we find her, and trust me, we will find her."
"You want me to tell you where she is, and you'll let Jude live?" Said Adam slowly, his shoulders tensing and wrists straining hopelessly at the ropes holding him back.
"Oh no, we know she's somewhere around Megaton," Autumn put his hands behind his back, looking shrewdly down at Adam. "but I have a feeling she'll be back. She'll come back to the Citadel, and she'll help Project Purity along, just like her father. When she comes back, you'll tell me where she went to get the G.E.C.K. And in turn, we'll spare you and your brother."
"Spare us from what?"
"The Enclave has plans from that purifier," Autumns eyes were alight, and Adam's flesh erupted with goosebumps. "and we will carry them out. By any means necessary. I assume you understand, Mr. Hiller."
"I do."
"Well then. Do we have an agreement?"
Adam looked down. His head was spinning and he was quite sure it had nothing to do with his recent bout of unconsciousness. He could see Posey in his mind's eye, small, soaked to the bone and grief stricken. A girl who barely reached Jude's shoulder, and yet a girl who'd had the complete and undivided attention of his brother, who'd never paid attention to anything in his life.
"What will you do to Posey, once you find her?" Asked Adam.
"Well that depends," Suddenly and with such a loud snap Adam jumped despite his bonds, as Autumn popped his leather covered knuckles. "on how cooperative she is."
It was such a cliche act that it was almost laughable. But strangely enough, Adam couldn't bring himself to muster up even a smirk.
"And you won't hurt Jude." He continued, feeling oddly breathless. He wondered just how deeply that shock at beginning had affected him. "Or me. We get off, scotch free, whatever happens."
"If you agree to be our confident, a true patriot, then yes."
Adam counted seconds. Then he counted his heartbeats. Then he counted how many times he'd wished he would have gone back for Jude when he'd had the chance.
"How do I contact you?"
Autumn smiled. Adam's stomach plummeted. Autumn held aloft a small, surprisingly bright oval shaped...something. The contraption was made of metal, and about the size of the end of his thumb.
"You will depress this." Said Autumn crisply. "Speak directly into it. After the initial depression you have two minutes to say whatever it is you have to say, so I suggest you speak quickly. After those two minutes, it will self destruct."
Adam didn't speak. The small, silverbright gadget seemed to be burning into his vision.
"I thank you, Adam Hiller." Autumn smirked. "You have been a great help to your country."
Posey didn't understand how days could pass by so quickly when she seemed to have nothing to fill them. She threw herself into cleaning the Megaton house. She scrubbed everything that didn't move, (and a few things that did, until Jude and Wadsworth both began to cower in her presences) until the house practically shone and it was a rather close homage to Pre-War standards. Jude tried to coax her outside. A supply run to Moria's, a scavenging raid close by, or at least a game of tag with Maggie and Harden. Sometimes she would go, but she'd only make to Jenny's stall for a squirrel on a stick before she could feel their eyes on her. Everyone's eyes. It hadn't been a secret, what they'd been doing. So if the Vaultie was back, it meant something had gone wrong. And despite her first experience with Megaton and its supposed aversion to curiosity, the inhabitants were a bunch of hypocrites. No one asked her, directly, but she could feel the stares and the whispers, and it would all come to a boiling point in her chest and she would turn tail and march back to the house, leaving Jude and passersby staring.
So she stayed inside. Jude kept her company as much as he could, and Wadsworth was always happy to fill the spaces with silly chatter but occasionally, when Jude was working with Walter and Wadsworth had to be deactivated to charge his fusion batteries, the silence would creep up on her, suffocating and stagnant and Posey could almost feel the pressure in her ears begin to rise. So she turned on Galaxy News, even though the familiar songs sent a pang through her heart, and even more so when Three Dog would wonder aloud what exactly had happened to the intrepid, 'Lone Wanderer'. But it wasn't until one day, in mid August, when Posey was scrubbing the already relatively spotless sink, trying to force the stained porcelain back to blinding white by sheer force of will, when Three Dog's voice crackled over the speaker, sounding uncharacteristically morose.
"Listen children, 'fraid I got some bad news. Some real bad news. I'm sure y'all remember, our favorite Wasteland Wanderer and her daddy?"
Posey stilled, her hair falling into her face, her pulse pounding in her neck.
"Well...news just came in. Turns out, James Bennett," Posey scrabbled at her Pip-Boy in an effort to turn it off, but her hands, covered in suds, simply slid off the screen, leaving a streak of suds behind.
"James Bennett has fought the good fight to the end of his days, and he sealed his Good Fight with his blood. No body's heard much of the girl from the vault these days, but, I just wanted to say kid,"
"Don't." Said Posey, trying feverishly and unsuccessfully to free herself of her Pip-Boy. "Don't you dare, Three Dog, don't-"
"I'm real sorry about your dad."
An animal like screech tour out of her throat , and the door opened just as she managed to finally free herself of her Pip-Boy and she sent it flying across the room, throwing it away with an angry shriek.
"Posey!"
"I can't!" She shouted, sinking to her knees and drawing her hands through her jagged hair. "I can't, I can't I can't," Ragged sobs heaved out of her and she scrunched her eyes up tight, pressing her fists to them, ignoring the fact that they were still covered in potentially toxic cleaner.
"Posey, hey! Posey, stop!" Jude wrenched her hands free from her eyes but she bowed her head, refusing to look at him as tears burbled from beneath her eyelids, covering her now stinging eyes.
"I'm going crazy," She whimpered, "I'm crazy. Jude, I'm crazy."
"No, you're not going crazy." He murmured, his hands smoothing back her wild hair in an all too familiar gesture that made her insides ache with longing, "but... It's just that the world is carrying on the way it always has and you don't feel like it should be that way, but it is."
"I don't want-" Her voice died in her throat, and she could feel her nose running, her eyes streaming and she knew she looked like an utter disaster. Weak, wilted and whimpering, covered in frothy soap suds. The intrepid Lone Wanderer, HA.
"I don't want-" she repeated vehemently.
To cry anymore, to feel anymore, to breathe anymore.
She heard Jude turn on the tap, heard the gurgle of water as the sink sputtered to life and spat out its feeble contribution before a steady stream began to fall, radiated water hitting the porcelain belly of the over scrubbed sink. The water source cut off and she felt rather than heard Jude crouch in front of her again. He smelled like rust and stagnant water and cigarettes. He'd been working with Walter.
Something damp and surprisingly warm brushed her face, starting at the outer corner of her eye and then steadily moving towards the inner, gently buffing away suds and tears.
"Don't you dare wipe my nose." Said Posey thickly, hesitantly opening her burning eyes. Jude's lips twitched in a smile, and his blue handkerchief hovered teasingly above her admittedly streaming nostrils.
"I will kill you, Jude Hiller." She growled, "I know where you sleep. I'll-"
He pinched her nose with his handkerchief, and Posey slapped his hand away, snatching the cloth herself and sloppily mopping up the mess her hysteria had left behind.
Across the room, her hopefully undamaged Pip-Boy whirred,
Don't know why I left the homestead
I really must confess
I'm a weary exile
Singing my song of loneliness
Jude sat back on his heels and Posey folded in on herself, closing her eyes and sucking in a deep breath, then another.
"Turn that thing off, would you?" She asked bleakly, and she again heard the scuffling moan of the rusted floor panels squeak as Jude hauled himself to his feet, his footsteps heavy as he crossed the room to where her Pip-Boy lay. The music ended and Posey felt the line of tension leave her shoulders. Her already horrid posture worsened, and whatever energy she'd had left along with the radio signal.
They sat in silence. But this sort of silence was different. In this silence she could hear Jude breathing, hear as he shifted slightly on the floor, feel his knees just brushing hers.
"I don't want to listen to silence." She said at last, addressing her belly button, still with her head lolling against her chest. "But I can't..." her voice trailed off, and it was all she could do that it didn't end in a whimper.
"It's late." Said Jude. "You tired?"
"No."
"Well, I'm tired." He said, pushing himself up. "But I wanna know what happens next in To Kill a Mockingbird so come on." He grabbed her hand and pulled her up. She felt like a whisper or a ghost, something insubstantial and just a little pathetic.
"I don't want to read, my throat hurts from all my screeching."
"Then I'll read. Just don't make fun of me, I'm not very good at it."
Settled, once again on Posey's too-small, too rickety bed, with Jude taking up far more than his allotted space, he began to peruse her their battered book. Normally, Posey would have finished the book weeks ago, (perhaps the day after Jude had given it to her). But she wanted to enjoy it. She loved the feeling of sinking into the pages, feeling Jude's arm pressed up against her own as she read aloud. The sleepy town of Maycomb drew her in, its old, odd Pre-War customs confused and delighted her, and she could feel the heavy summer air of Maycomb pressed against her skin. She wanted to draw the story out as long as she could.
"Where were we?"
"Chapter eleven." Said Posey, taking her place, perching on the end of her bed, picking at a stray thread in the shabby blanket Jude had brought back from Moria's a few days ago. She liked the blanket, it was stitched together with many squares of many fabrics, all different colors and patterns, but what made her like it the most was that many of the patterns had flowers.
"Okay," Said Jude, and Posey was surprised to hear the slight twinge of nervousness in his voice. He cleared his throat, and started, haltingly,
"When we were small, Jem and I confined.." he pronounced it slowly, drawing out the vowels, and his eyes narrowed at the word.
"It's like, kept." Said Posey and Jude shot her a withering look. "Sorry." She said, ducking her head.
He started again, and while sometimes he stumbled over words, his voice adopted a new sort of cadence, and even a different sort of accent. His voice was lower, his vowels rounded out and soft, and drawled. He took longer to read than Posey did, especially when she noticed that his eyelids were drooping. But she didn't stop him. She was enthralled, both by the story and by Jude. Her chest ached in a very real sense and yet the sensation of falling that she seemed to be experiencing constantly since her father's death, in varying stages of severity, had halted. She'd frozen in her free fall, for a moment.
The chapter was winding down to a close. Posey could tell by both the pacing in the book and by the sleepy flutter to Jude's eyelashes.
"I wanted you to see something about her-" Said Atticus Finch, borrowing Jude's voice. "I wanted you to see what real courage is, instead of getting the idea that courage is a man with a gun in his hand. It's when you know you're licked before you begin but you begin anyway and you see it through no matter what."
They both paused, Posey frozen on the end of her bed and Jude at the head of it. They looked at each other. Posey felt herself beginning to fall again. She tightened her grip on the faded flowers beneath her.
"I think that's enough for tonight." Said Jude, and it was so obvious that he was Jude again that Posey blinked, shaking her head minutely to free it of Maycomb and its oppressive summer heat.
"But you're nearly to the end of it." She said at last. "There's only half a paragraph left."
"I'm tired." He repeated, closing the book and reaching over to leave it on her desk. "It's late. You should sleep."
"I'm not tired."
"Liar."
Posey was always tired these days.
"I'm not ready to sleep."
"Well, at least let the rest of us who are do so in peace." Said Jude, getting wearily to his feet. "Goodnight, and don't read on without me."
He started to leave but Posey said, "Wait," and her fingers found his wrist. She held it as tightly as her currently energy levels would allow. Which meant she could barely force her fingers to close around him.
Neither of them spoke. Posey was reminded of a night a thousand years ago, where Jude, sleepy and beautiful and slightly concussed sat on a sofa in an old Memorial building, and she'd stood above him, part of her telling her to go and find her dad, and the other part of her rooting her to the spot. They'd talked of Cinderella, and true love, and possibilities.
"What if I'm not ready to be brave, yet?" She said, staring up at him. She could still hear his voice with Atticus Finch's words, echoing in her ears. "What if I'm not ready to have real courage?"
"Nobody ever is." Said Jude. "Goodnight, Blondie." He gently tugged his wrist free.
The lights went out and Posey lay back against her mattress, lying atop a centuries old meadow of wildflowers, and twisted her hair at the roots until she could feel it pull.
"I'm real sorry about your dad, kid."
"Yeah," said Posey softly. "Me too."
And with that, she went back to falling.
Jude really hoped this hunk of junk was going to work.
"You sure about this, Moira?" He asked in a hushed whisper. Moria's merc rolled his eyes, panting slightly and set off down the steps, making a little more noise than Jude was comfortable with.
"Whatever, my part's done. Moria, you know where to find me."
They both heard the door open and slam shut, and Jude winced.
"Of course it's going to work, Mr. Hiller." Said Moria, shoving his shoulder playfully. "We tested it out in the shop, and it worked like a charm over there. Why would here be any different?"
Jude scowled and took a step back, straightening up and brushing down his faded blue tee shirt as if to brush away Moria's light heartedness.
"Alright, alright, clear out then, if you're so sure it will work."
"But," Moira looked crestfallen. "I wanted to see her face when-"
"I'll be sure to take a picture." Said Jude, practically steering her towards the door. "Thanks a bunch, you're a real pal."
"Can't say the same for you." Said Moira stiffly. "Tell Posey that whenever she's ready, my research awaits!"
"I'll fill her in." Said Jude, as Wadsworth opened of the Megaton house for her with a cheery,
"Thanks eversomuch Madam for your services! And have an excellent day!"
The door had just swung shut when there came a soft call of,
"Jude?"
Posey appeared in the doorway of her bedroom, the blanket he'd gotten her pulled tight around her shoulders, and her hair standing up on end.
"I heard voices," She said, her eyes narrowed with confusion and gummed together with sleep. "What's going on?"
"Nothing." Said Jude, "Just Wadsworth and I, having a chat."
Posey raised an eyebrow. "You don't chat." She said flatly. Her eyes had dark circles under them and they were still red from yesterday. She made a move to come down the stairs when she suddenly froze.
"What's that?" She asked slowly, pointing at Moira's delivery.
"A jukebox." Said Jude, mounting the stairs two at a time and coming up to meet her. "Moira had it. It plays music, but you don't have to worry about Three Dog interrupting anything. It's got a pre recorded set of records and music in there. Different stuff than Three Dog's got, too. Works like a charm."
Posey looked from the jukebox to Jude, eyes wide. And suddenly, she did the craziest thing. She smiled. A real, honest to atom smile. Jude would have set a thousand cities on fire to see that smile again, or haul a thousand hulking, half broken Jukeboxes across town and up a thousand flights of stairs to coax those lips into that shape again. Even if it was just a semblance of her old smiles, it was like something in Jude's life fell back into place.
"You wanna see if it works?" Asked Jude. Posey nodded, and Jude bent down, fiddling with the tuners and buttons before something clicked and landed into place. The lights flickered to life.
Let me be the one to walk with you when you want somebody to talk with you
Anything that makes you happy I want to do oh darling let me be the one
Posey smiled again, running her pale fingers across the dials, peering into look at the faded names on the peeling lists.
"Hank Locklin, Johnny Cash, Doris Day," She read. "I don't recognize any of these names. This is all new."
Let me be the one to take you out to your favorite places you have no doubt
"What did I tell you, Blondie." He said with a shrug. "Moria's got some cool stuff."
Let me be the one to share with you all your little pleasures and sorrows too
In all kind of weather I want to be with you oh please let me be one.
Posey closed her eyes. And for a moment, Jude thought that maybe everything really was going to be alright.
All these happy thoughts will mean so much fun if you'd only let me be the one
"Thank you."
Jude wasn't sure if he actually heard her say the words, or just watched as she mouthed them.
"I'll be with Walter, if you need me." He said. "Got some patching up to do."
He left her at the top of the stairs, not really dancing, and not really swaying but looking more present that she had in a long time. Really, he thought, heading down the ramp in the early morning sunshine, angling for the water treatment plant, if that was all it took I should have hauled that sucker over the first days I laid eyes on it.
He knew it wasn't all it took. But, like he'd said. He still had a lot of patching up to do.
An:/ So...long time no see...he he he...i'm sorry.
But like I said in my last chapter, I was going on hiatus because I was out of the country. and I got back two weeks ago. That being said I want to apologize to all of you who've followed this story since the beginning and I can only hope that you're still out there and willing to get back on board with this crazy project. Now I feel like James trying to convince Madison Li to rejoin Project Purity. Hey guys, at least I haven't been gone nineteen years. Just one and a half.
It might take me some time to get back into the swing of this story. I love it so much and so dearly but it has been a long long time. But I'm going to give it my best shot! Really though. I wanna finish this thing.
This chapter's song is by Phillip Phillips. And it is the most perfect Jude and Posey song. It is perfection.
The song that plays on their new jukebox is 'Let me be the One' by Hank Locklin. I discovered this song because while visiting my grandma and going over all her old records with her she told me my grandpa use to walk her to her door after every date they went on singing this song to her.
HOW. FREAKING. CUTE. So, shoutout to my grandma who had an unknowing hand in my post apocalyptic romance novel. Go grandma!
well, i'm tired. so i'm just gonna post this. To anyone reading this, I love you and I appreciate the effort you've made to read this work of mine. Honestly though. Thank you. Thank you very much for taking the time to read this fic. Thank you.
That is all. I love you all and GOOD NIGHT!
XOXOXOX
Living Pretty