The strider's came galloping into town just as the sun was setting. Elias noticed the activities for most of the town had begun to wind down. The streets were more empty and there was less chatter. But the restaurants, saloon's and the brothel we're still bustling with people.
"Hey," Carter said getting Elias' attention. "Follow me. We'll ride these supplies to the doc's then up to Alison's house, I'm sure she'll want to know you're safe."
Elias spurred the horse and kept a nice trot alongside Carter. "You too." he replied, doubting she'd be considered for only one of them.
Carter chuckled in an amused manner, looking off into darkening blue sky on his left. "Sure." He whipped the reins and the Strider trotted a little faster ahead of Elias, making him wonder more about what Alison wanted. He spurred his Strider and caught up to the stoic ghoul.
A short minuet later they rode up a hill towards a large house on the top of it. It was a pre-war home, two stories from what he could tell. It had a roofed off porch attached to the front. Wooden steps leading up to it and the front door. A hitch was posted in the ground near a trough of water, and that's where Carter rode up and hitched his strider.
The front door opened and Alison stepped out, looking at Carter then at Elias who was still on his strider. Looking at him she smiled. She crossed her arms just under her full breasts, her soft pink lips parting as her head bowed a little, but eyes still looking up at Elias. Her blonde bang was hanging down in-front of a brilliant blue eye. This was the first time Elias noticed these things, and had to try his hardest not to stare in awe at her sudden beauty. "You two are back earlier then I thought, actually."
"Yeah," Carter sighed. "Well, we ran into some trouble."
Her expression flattened and she took on a more serious tone. "What happened? Are you okay?"
Carter raised a hand, signaling to stop her worry for him. He glanced at Elias who had failed in his task not to stare at Alison. She looked over at him and he snapped out of it, shaking his head quickly. "There was a Deathclaw in the hospital. An adult male it looked like. We barely made it out."
"Jesus." she quickly mumbled under her breath. "This far outside of the cypts?" She asked both of them, glancing at them.
"Guess so." Carter stated. "Elias said something about it being weak from hunger, so maybe it was just a stupid kid who left home and grew up scraping by on what it could find."
Elias knew that assumption was wrong, but was to tired and in pain to argue with it. He swung his leg off the saddle of the strider and dropped to the ground. The sudden jerk made the wound on his side pull. He growled in pain and clenched his side, snarling as he leaned into the side of the strider, covering the view of his face with his other arm that was outstretched and resting on the hilt of the saddle.
Alison looked over at him, raising her head as her eyes lit up with panic. "Elias!?" She shouted over to him. Her heart began to race and she sprinted down the stairs, running barefoot across the dirt ground over to him.
His breathing was heavy and eyes trained on the ground, head bowed and shallow breaths being drawn in through his parted lips. He looked over at Alison, his hand clutching his side. "I'm fine." he replied, not really noticing she was directly at his side. "I just moved to fast."
"Bullshit." She muttered and grabbed his arm, putting it around her shoulders. He tried to pull away but found himself too weak, and instead had her guide him into her home. "Carter, go get yourself some sleep. We'll be fine."
Carter tipped his hat and turned, beginning his walk back down the hill without another word. He'd leave his strider hitched their, knowing he'd want to stop by in the morning to get his daily routine and see if Elias was fairing well. But for tonight, it was to the saloon then Samantha's Cat-house.
Alison lead Elias into the living room, letting him slide off and land safely on a couch. He took a deep breath, his head feeling less light and his vision growing less dark. The sudden sweet smell of vanilla and the faded crackle of a record playing soft big-band music in the background caught his ears.
He looked to his left and saw her bedroom through a doorway. Purple sheets draped over her queen sized bed, a faded blue metal trunk sitting at the foot of it. Directly in-front of him was a old black-and-white TV set that was more there for decorative purposes then anything else. It sat against the side of the stairs that lead up to the second floor. To his right was the front door, but also a room to the right of the stairs, which looked to be the kitchen.
Elias deeply breathed in the scent of vanilla and relaxed into the comfortable if not well used couch. "Nice place you got here."
Alison came out of the kitchen with two beers in one hand a white medical kit in the other. She laid it down on the coffee table in-front of him, along with a cold bottle. He sat up a little more for her, groaning as he did so. His hands working to unbutton his shirt.
She took a swig of the beer and watched him work on his shirt. She'd been through two bottles already and was feeling about as light headed as he was. More bold, perhaps, as she caught herself looking down at his jeans and wondering when he'd work on them next .
He finished the last button of his shirt, leaning forward with a groan and pulling it off. She grabbed it collar and helped him pull it down. He had on a black Tank-top under it, but leaned back, his breathing a little bit heavier from struggling with the shirt.
She reached out and ran her finger-tips down his broad and muscular shoulder. He looked over and watched her fingers slide down his bicep and over a scar that ran across it. "Knife wound." He said staring down at her hand.
Her hand slid all the way down his arm to his forearm, softly running it over a scar that wrapped around his entire forearm. "Bite mark." He replied, drawing her attention up to his impossibly dark eyes. "Was a...feral dog, belonged to some Marauder's."
She looked up into his eyes, noticing small scars that lined his face. She reached up and slid her hand across the side of his strong jaw, causing him to close his eyes slowly and enjoy the feeling. It had been over a decade sense he felt the touch of a woman, and it was making his heart race.
After the brief moment of intimacy, she took a swig of her beer and stood up, moving to the other side of him and pulling up his tank-top. The gauze wrapped around him had a trace of dark red under it. She grabbed the medical kit and opened it, pulling out a pair of scissors and gently cutting the wrap.
Then she pinched the edge of a bloody gauze bandage stuck to his side. She looked up at him and he looked away, drawing in a deep breath. Once he stopped, she looked back to his wound and peeled away the gauze. He clenched his jaw, gritting his teeth and tensing his body. Alison could feel it under her touch.
Elias could take the pain, though he didn't find any comfort an it. He knew people who wouldn't flinch to having been shot or stabbed. They accepted the pain. But to Elias, pain was pain. There was no joy in it, there was no familiarity or comfort. It was his body telling him to react. To stop whatever was causing him pain. If anything, it triggered his reflexes to grab-hold or out-right kill whatever was causing it.
The bandage was soaked through and through with crimson red. She laid it on the coffee table i-nfront of them and reached back into the medical kit, removing a cloth and bottle of disinfectant. Laying it next to her leg and reaching back in, she removed a small syringe of med-x and a stimpack. Elias looked over at what she was doing and shook his head. "Alison, don't." She looked up at him with her hand on his side. "I haven't even replaced what I've used, I don't need to use your personal med-kit."
She stared up at him for a moment before jabbing the needle of Med-X into his side, causing him to cringe with a snarl then relax, a numb feeling almost instantly climbing up his side. He sighed and looked away, seeing no point in arguing with her. She was a stubborn woman of conviction, and when she sat her mind to something she would do it. Damn whatever the consequences or whatever was said about her or the decision.
She threw the syringe on to the pile of bloody bandages then grabbed up the bottle of disinfectant and the cloth, unscrewing the cap and tipping the bottle upside down with the cloth over it. Once it was wet with the alcohol, she began to lightly wipe and dab at his bloody side and wound. With him feeling numb and exhausted, he didn't even feel it.
Soon afterwords all the blood was wiped away, and his wound was left clean. The numbness stayed locked to his side, and he barely felt the sting of the stimpack's needle. "That wasn't necessary." he said not looking at her. "I'm just using up more of your supplies, more of your time, and there isn't even a promise I can replace half of-."
"And how will you replace any of it if you're falling apart at the seams?" She asked with annoyance in her tone and a wrinkle in her brow. He was silent, simply watching condensation form on the outside of the glass and drip down to the table. Soon she had pressed a fresh gauze pad against his side and re-wrapped the wound. "There, ya big baby." She said scooping up all the waste on the table and walking away with it. Needless to say he watched her walk away with a short spark of anger.. "You can sleep here until we can get you a real place." She called out from the kitchen.
He avidly shook his head. "I...I don't think that's a good idea." was his reply. Though a short and not-well-thought-out one.
She came back into the room with a sway in her step. Her blonde hair was let down. It fell around her shoulders and down her back. Across her breasts. He quickly looked away, more towards her bed-room now. Just in an attempt to look anywhere but where he knew he shouldn't. "And why not? You afraid I'm gonna bite?"
He scoffed a chuckle, feeling her take a seat next to him. He mumbled just in ear-shot. "Even if you did I wouldn't mind."
She smiled and ran her fingers through her hair, pushing it out more. "There a reason you're not looking at me?"
Slowly he looked over at her. She was in a pale white tank-top and jeans that clung to her curvy hips and legs. She wasn't twig skinny like some of the women he'd seen before. She was well kept, maybe even a little chubby. It was harmless and actually added to her beauty. "No ma'am." He said quietly, diverting his eyes up and locking them with her. "Just wondering why anyone would want me near."
She stared at him for a moment, looking into his literal black eyes. She couldn't even see the white's of them under the shadow of his cowboy hat. So she reached an arm out and grabbed the top of it, gently pulling it up and off his head. With her other hand she reached out and lightly brushed her fingers over his hair, brushing it forward and to it's natural position.
His bangs brushed across his forehead and he blinked slowly. When he opened them he found himself still staring into her eyes, and her still staring into his. She found herself amazed. He hadn't looked at her dead on like this before, and not without his hat on. She was amazed that it wasn't the shadow making his eyes black.
Despite seeing the white's of his eyes now, his iris was nearly indistinguishable from his pupils. Without exaggeration, they were literally the color of coal or onyx. But yet they carried a sense of warmth. A tender caring, long buried and under-fed, but still their. Waiting to be re-summoned to the surface. "I do." She finally replied in a voice so gentle and soft, that Elias felt his heart not flutter, but melt inside his chest.
He stared into her eyes for what felt like an infinity. They were the deepest blue he'd ever seen. It wasn't just a depth of color you could see so clearly, but that you could feel. That you could get lost in. His were as solid as stone, but her's were as infinite as the ocean. "I'm not a man...that you want in your life." He spoke softly, in a whisper. "Not a bodyguard, or a runner. I'm a murderer. And a thief. And I will shatter your heart if you give it to me. Not because I want too, but because I can't hold it."
Her lips were parted and her breathing was faster. He could see her chest rising and falling quicker. He didn't know if it was lust or fear that was making her breathe quicker. "I don't have one to shatter." She replied in a soft and monotone voice.
He wrinkled his brow and lightly shook his head in wonderment. "Who are you?" Now his eyes searched hers for answers. Her lips loosely closed and her breathing normalized. Now her eyes seemed a darker, more dull blue. Less exciting and vibrant. "We both have our secrets, Elias. Both have lived our lives. I am who I was made to be, just as you are."
This time she was the one to shake her head. "I'm sorry." She laid his hat down on the coffee table and stood up, brushing past his legs to her bedroom. "There's a spare room upstairs, it's yours until we can get you settled. Make yourself at home."
She entered the room, leaving the door half-cracked. He was left staring straight ahead at the record-player that now played a song he found too familiar. "It's only make-believe." by Conway Twitty. He closed his eyes and let out a deep breath, the man's smooth and deep voice and the lyrics he sang filling his ears.
He opened his eyes and looked over at her door. His brow flattened as he saw her between the crack of the door. She crossed her arms and grabbed the bottom of her shirt, pulling it up and over her head. She wore no bra under it, but he could only see her naked back. As he watched her, something caught his eye. A medium length scar at ran from her kidney to near the center of her spine. But regardless, his heart began to race. And his mind began to wonder.
She unbuttoned her jeans, then bent over as she slid them down to her ankles. Thin silk panties forming to her shapely ass, leading down to her thick thighs. She stepped out of he pants and walked over to to her bed, pulling back the covers. S
Did she want him to look? Was she teasing him? If she was, he couldn't figure out why. Why he was an object she desired, a person she wanted. Maybe she just wanted a good fuck, but she didn't seem the type of girl. There was something about him she liked. Coming on strong or not, she wanted him. But he was a firm believer in being a man she didn't want in her life.
He looked away and leaned forward grabbing his hat and putting it back on his head. He also grabbed the beer and popped the top on the table, taking a strong swig of it and wrinkling his nose at the bitter taste, then stood. Collecting his things, he retreated quickly up the stairs. She simply watched him go then pulled back the covers on her bed, sliding her near naked frame into it.
They both turned into their beds wondering about each-other. Alison silently damned herself for both not pursuing what she wanted, and for pursuing it at all in the first place. She barely knew him, he barely knew her. She had no right to want him. No place to want him. Her eyes began to tear up at this thought and she closed them. She didn't deserve what she wanted.
The darkness felt familiar to him. Cold but yet warm. A void, but yet it smothered him. He sat in the room, one leg hanging off the bed and the other laying along the edge. He didn't even have the common grey strands of moonlight shining through the window. It was just darkness. Smothering, empty darkness.
He casually drank the rest of the beer and laid it on the nightstand beside him. His hand slid down the still condensed bottle until it rested on the table. "Don't you have anyone...?" Jenny's voice asked him, causing his eyes to tear up. "No." he recalled him somberly replying. "Nobody. It's-"
"-Been just me. For a long time." He himself replied in the dark room, staring off at nothing with tears in his eyes. He could almost feel the hot air of the summer day blowing against his skin.
"Don't you get lonely?"
He let the question linger in the air for an infinity. Now he felt hot tears roll down his cheeks, across the two scars on the left side of his mouth that went from his nostril to the bottom of his lower lip. "Yeah...yeah it does. I...I tend not to think about it."
"How much longer do you think you can do this, Elias?" an older voiced Jenny asked. He closed his eyes loosely and tried to hold back the tears. "How much longer do you think you can be alone out here."
He remembered what he said to her when she asked him that. He remembered letting it linger in the air as well before gruffly saying to her "As long as it takes.". But that was many years ago. Now his hair was greying, as well as the remains of his soul. His heart-strings had snapped, and the fire in his eyes had died. He remember what he had said then. But the times had changed. He bowed his head and silently sobbed, softly whispering "I can't. I don't want to anymore...I don't want to be alone anymore. I can't do it...I can't." his whispering to the darkness had broken down to sobbing and light head shaking. He raised his hand and put it over his face, covering his eyes.
How long had it been sense he had cried? It had to have been years. But he couldn't hold it in any longer. That feeling from the clinic was back. The choking feeling, the wall in the back of his throat. Fire in his lungs and fog veiling his mind. He could feel the weight settling in on him. He was tired. More then that, he was worn. Faded and old. A relic of what he used to be.
He was becoming vestige.