"How come you never let me tell my story," Jericho was saying, as they turned a corner inside the Museum. "To that Overseer prick."

Lillie frowned, squinting into the darkness. At this point, she would almost prefer being blind to the static. Her head was aching so badly―

"That was just to keep you busy," she muttered, grumpily. "So you didn't get in the middle of my talking to people."

Jericho stopped short with a crunching noise, and grumbled. "You fuckin' kiddin' me?" he asked, almost incredulously.

Lillie sighed and shook her head. "You're a spy, Jericho," she said, shooting him a dirty look. "You think I'd really trust you with my plans?"

"Fuck this bu―" Jericho put his rifle across his shoulder, and stood there staring at her with an angry look on his face. "No, you little bitch, I didn't think you were that fuckin' stupid."

Lillie could care less what the man thought, right now. She could barely see him―the static in her vision was still pretty bad―but she could pick out some details. And if she couldn't see very well―neither could President Eden. Even if she could barely see to shoot straight―

"Well, I'm sorry," she snapped back. "But that's the truth. I'm trying to trust you now, you know―"

"Fuck you and your fuckin' dad. I'm done." He glared at her, crossing his arms. "I can go back to Megaton and get paid any fuckin' time I want."

That wasn't going to work for her plan. Lillie jerked her hand up and pushed the Colonel's 10mm pistol into his chin. "Is that so?" she asked, trying to intimidate him.

"You and your goddamn attitude," he snapped, refusing to back down from the threat. "C'mon, then. Shoot me. Go get that fuckin' dish by yourself. See if I give a shit."

"You think I need you around?!" she lied, pushing the barrel harder into his skin. "I don't need you to do this―"

Jericho's eyes narrowed and in a split second he'd removed the pistol from under his chin, pushed her toward the railing and had her by one wrist and a hand on her hip, leaning her over the edge of the third floor.

"You sure about that?" he asked, critically. "You ain't as hard as you used to be."

"I'm still in charge―" she protested, pushing herself back toward him and away from the gaping maw of the shuttle display.

"Yeah," Jericho said, his hands gripping her tighter. "And I'm the queen of fuckin' Sheba." He stared at her with a mean look on his face for a second, then pulled her backward into him, moving away from the railing. "You can't lie for shit, you stupid―"

Lillie righted herself, moving to the wall and bumping into it unintentionally. "So what," she muttered. Her eyes dropped to the static-filled sight of her hands, still holding Colonel Autumn's pistol―

"So you need to shut up. Stop treatin' me like I'm some kind of fuckin' errand boy," he said, grabbing her upper arm and pulling her along the railing to the doorway they'd been heading for. "I ain't your goddamn dog."

"How am I supposed to trust y―" she started, trying to keep up.

"What did I just fuckin' say―" he snapped, throwing her forward roughly with one arm.

"Jericho!" she shrieked, as she stumbled into a hallway and over a bucket, almost falling flat on her face. If she fell and broke the lenses, it would matter if they got the dish―

"Come out, human!" a voice in the distance shouted, the familiar deep sound of the super mutants echoing through the place.

Lillie froze in place, staring into the static-filled gloom with wide eyes. Jericho swore, and grabbed her up from the floor by the back of her armor. "How about we just agree to disagree and get the fuck outta here," he hissed in her ear, as he righted her.

"Fine," she spat, moving down the hallway with him.

About three hours. That was how long it took Jericho and Lillie to get in, get the dish, and get out. It might not have taken so long if Jericho hadn't gotten himself shot in the stomach.

Lillie put the Colonel's pistol away and dropped to her knees, pressing one hand into Jericho's stomach as he bled profusely through the leather. He was coughing and moaning, tapping his head against the hallway wall, his hand twitching on his rifle and muttering to himself.

She squinted as she injected him with a stimpak, eyeing the hole the bullet had made in the leather. "You'll probably live," she murmured, keeping pressure on the area.

"Prob'ly, fuck," he muttered, and put his hand on top of hers, pressing harder into his stomach. She glanced up to see him staring at her with nearly closed eyes.

Lillie frowned. "Just let the stimpak work―"

"Ain't you a doctor's kid," he grumbled, his hand trembling over hers.

"Yes," she answered, calmly, "but that doesn't mean I know what to do when someone gets hurt." She looked away from the sight and waited for the bleeding to stop.

He'd backed up toward the wall when he took the bullet to his stomach, while she took out the super mutant responsible, then slid down onto the floor. The sheer amount of blood coming from his wound was enough to alarm her, and the way he was acting―

"Jericho," she said, snapping her free hand in front of his face. "Stay with me."

He blinked, his glazed eyes focusing. "I ain't dead yet," he said, fingers tightening on hers.

"Good." Lillie didn't want to admit it, but she did need the surly jerk to protect her―from what she couldn't see, from the surprise attacks. She supposed that was why he'd gotten himself hurt, this time.

Jericho coughed, violently, spitting up a glob of mucus and blood. He closed his eyes and groaned, leaning back onto the wall as she applied another stimpak.

"You're really sick, Jericho," she said, making a face.

"Been doin' that for years," he answered. "So what."

"Coughing up blood is a really bad thing to do," she went on, almost ignoring him.

"Yeah, well," he muttered, and his hand dropped from hers to the floor. "Least I'm not fuckin' blind."

Her head snapped up, eyes narrowing at him. "What―" she started.

Jericho chuckled and pushed himself upward, getting up to his knees without having to lean on the wall. "Them fuckin'―" he wheezed a little, bending over, then righted himself. "Things in your eyes." He coughed, and covered his mouth for a brief second, grimacing.

"I'm not deathly ill," she snapped back. "You need a doctor, Jericho."

Jericho laughed and winced in pain, holding his stomach still. "Fuck," he muttered, before straightening up. "I been to the goddamn doctor. You know what he told me?"

"No," she answered, her hand hovering over his upper arm, unsure whether or not she should help him.

"Told me I should be grateful I lived sixty fuckin' years, even," Jericho said, turning his head and lifting his rifle.

"Really?" she asked. Only because she was curious. Every new bit of his life... was like reading a book, but he was real. And real was...

She was reminded of the Velveteen Rabbit, all of a sudden. Her own life hadn't been Real until she left the "garden", like the Rabbit. If Jericho was her forest fairy―she cringed at the thought. Maybe being filled with sawdust wasn't that bad...

But she wasn't a plaything. That, she promised herself. All of this―was to get away from the person wanting to play with her, to stop the manipulation. After... after, she could figure out what to do. Until then―

"Sixty-five," Jericho said, sourly. "Sixty-five fuckin' years. You got a whole goddamn life of this shit ahead of you."

"...I'm impressed," she said, shooting him a small smile. "You're tougher than I thought."

"Oh, fuck you, kid," he snarled, limping forward a few steps. Stood up straighter and cracked his neck. "Just like your fuckin' dad, not believing shit."

Lillie's temper flared. "I'm not my dad," she stated, flatly. "I don't lie to people to get my way."

"Fuckin' stupid," he said, turning his head to stare at her. "Ain't no one gonna tell you the whole truth, kid."

"I am aware of that," she said, bristling at his insult. "But I have standards, Jericho. Lowering myself to the level of ingrates is not one of them."

"Can we get the fuck outta here," he groaned, holding his stomach. "I ain't like to let some ugly bastard sneak up on us while you preach."

Lillie said nothing more, but moved further into the Museum. Thought about integrity―something President Eden had been big on her maintaining. He couldn't bother to let her in on all the details, though.

She wasn't lying. Just... omitting what needed to be said. That still counted for something.

Didn't it?

Lillie was sitting in a corner of the radio station, cradling her makeshift eyebot and staring at the power cell within it. The deejay had invited her to stay the night, recover her senses. She didn't think she'd looked that bushed. But she was. Having a safe place to sleep was something she'd taken for granted, before.

Now it was a pleasure she intended to enjoy, even if her company was lacking. After the running from the Vault... after dealing with the static for so long, after fighting with Jericho―

God only knew why the man was picking fights with her now, but she suspected he was reveling in her inability to properly defend herself. Pushing his limit, trying to figure out how much he could get away with. He'd also not liked how vulnerable he'd been when he was injured.

Or her attitude toward him. She'd... tried to show him respect. But he didn't seem to want her respect. But she did listen to what he said. Had been thinking it over.

Moriarty said the same, about the lying. That it was a part of life, and she shouldn't let it get to her. Should expect that people weren't going to be truthful because it served no purpose. Jericho saying it... made it sound more harsh, but he was echoing the sentiment.

She'd expected both men had lived as long as they had simply by being tough or cunning, or both. Jericho was certainly smarter than she gave him credit for, showing an ability to command a situation without giving quarter. She respected that, because it reminded her of Colonel Autumn.

Lillie sighed, and ran her hands over the carapace of the eyebot, feeling the humming of the power cell within. Eyebots operated on a single rechargeable cell. It wouldn't last very long―and if Three Dog couldn't get his station to overpower the Enclave one, soon...

She closed her eyes, and tried not to imagine what would happen to her if she was forced to return to Raven Rock. She'd thought she was a traitor, before, for attacking Colonel Autumn and fleeing. This... felt more serious, than that, because she had actively engaged in the deception rather than merely swept up into an existing intrigue.

Jericho poked his head around a wall, mumbling something at her, distracting her from her thoughts. "What?" she asked, focusing on him.

He was nursing a bottle of booze―probably not his first one, either, based on how strongly he smelled when he flopped down on the dingy mattress beside her. Lillie crinkled her nose, scooting away from him with a quick motion. She didn't particularly want to deal with him. The man was drunk―and she didn't want to find out if he was as combative when drunk as he was when sober.

But... if Jericho was the only person she could really rely on...

"Hey," she said, softly, staring at him. "Can you... teach me how to lie?"

Jericho coughed, then started laughing, derisively. It was a long time before he sighed in relief, fixed a bloodshot eye on her, and nodded. "Yeah, alright, kid."

Lillie gave him the best smile she could, and sighed to herself.

Every hero needed a mentor... right?