Chapter 24 - Bad Omens
Marilyn awoke with a startled cry, the sound of a gunshot echoing in her mind. But the room around her was still and silent. Confused, she moved to sit up. Her hands grasped for purchase on a heavy fabric beneath her and she looked down. Sprawled over her was a heavy quilt with faded colors and more than a few loose strands. It was strewn over a small bed with a rusty wire frame, which creaked with her every movement.
Looking up from the bed, she examined the room she was in. It was dimmed, with curtains pulled over the nearby window. They blocked most of the sunlight, but a few stray rays shone through the moth-eaten holes, casting beams of light across the gray wooden floor. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed after throwing off the quilt, Marilyn noticed the various quaint knick-knacks and twee little decorations over the walls. Everything seemed rusty and worn, with peeling paint and splintering wood. But it was all arranged carefully, lovingly. As though to hide the flaws. Or perhaps just ignore them. It all felt very sentimental, in a way that Marilyn couldn't really explain.
But despite the charming little room, she was confused. The last thing she remembered, she had been by that church. Dick had been carrying her. A beautiful song had been playing. It was still morning back then, but the sunlight at the window suggested afternoon. Fumbling, she hastily brought her Pip-Boy up and confirmed the time was already 2 in the afternoon!
Marilyn leaped up from the bed, not liking the way the floorboards groaned as she did so. She also didn't like that her boots had been removed, though they were easily found in front of the bedside table. She scrambled to grab them, her thoughts swirling. Where was Dick? And where was Billy? And where was she, for that matter? What had happened in the time since she'd fallen asleep?
Marilyn stumbled a bit as she yanked on one of her boots, knocking into the bedside table and accidentally elbowing a shadeless lamp. She reached for it just as it reached the peak of its wobbling, but it slipped past her fingers and shattered on the floor. Loudly. Marilyn winced, slipping on her other boot. It sounded too much like a gunshot, in her opinion. But then she heard a different sound like footsteps somewhere outside of the room's closed door a moment later, the creak of the floorboards giving it away. Her thoughts immediately went back to the sound of the green man and his merc on the stairs in that crab place. Her heart swelled with panic.
As the doorknob began to turn, Marilyn hastily reached for her pistol, relieved when she found it at her hip. She grasped it with both hands and pointed directly at the door, eyes locked on the rattling doorknob. There was a moment where it fell silent. Then the door opened with a hefty bang and she cocked the gun, pointing it ahead with a trembling she couldn't quite suppress.
"Huh, the door was stu—whoa!" Dick stumbled back as his eyes moved to the gun, throwing his hands up by his head on instinct.
"Dick!" Marilyn gasped in relief, pointing the gun at the floor quickly.
"Oi, what's with the g—ow," He began, getting cut off when she ran to him and pulled him into a bone-crushing hug in the doorway, "H-Hey, uh, what's goin' on?"
"Where were you?! Where is this?! What's going on?!" Marilyn asked rapidly as she crushed his chest against her cheek, feeling tears begin to well up for some reason.
"Whoa, whoa, take it easy, Mari," Dick chuckled awkwardly, setting a warm hand against her back, "You're alright, it's alright. Just take some deep breaths, yeah?"
Marilyn sniffled, staring over at the window silently as she tried to steady her breathing. She hadn't even been sure when she'd started hyperventilating, and she felt embarrassed at her overreaction to everything. She could feel Dick's every steady breath, her head still pressed against his chest, and did her best to match his timing. It worked, her breath slowly coming under her control.
"This is that DeLacey Inn place. Billy mentioned it before, remember?" Dick reminded her quietly, beginning to rub circles on her back, "Couldn't wake you when we got here, so we brought you to one of the rooms."
"O-Oh…" Marilyn blinked a few times, dissipating the lingering tears on her eyelashes, "Okay…"
They were silent for a moment, with Dick's hand stilling on her back. Marilyn resisted the urge to look up at him, even though she could feel him staring at her.
"Hey, you doin' okay, Mari?" Dick finally asked, voice quiet.
Marilyn didn't answer, just closing her eyes. Maybe if she ignored it, her frantic heart would finally catch up with the fact that she wasn't in any danger. She instead focused on the sound of Dick's own heartbeat.
"...Marilyn?" Dick beckoned her, anxiety apparent in his voice.
Marilyn held onto him a bit tighter. It began to feel less like a hug and more like her clinging onto him like he was a safety blanket. And in a way, he sort of was. He was always so calm. It was reassuring. She knew that, no matter what happened, she could always go to him and he'd be there to calm her down.
"I had a bad dream," She admitted quietly.
"Yeah?" Dick whispered back, hand beginning to rub circles on her back again, "You wanna talk about it?"
"Not really," Marilyn furrowed her brow, "Not right now, at least."
"Alright," Dick responded, and she felt him nod, "Y'know I'm here if you need me."
"I know you are," Marilyn squeezed him a bit tighter, making the hug a proper hug once more, "Thank you."
She felt Dick move his arms to return the embrace. But then he pulled back at the last minute, the hand on her back patting her instead. It was an awkward pat. Uncertain. And it just made her uncertain of herself in turn. Suddenly feeling self-conscious, she retracted her arms and slunk away from him.
"Sorry," She mumbled sheepishly, finally holstering her pistol, "I'm okay now,"
"Uh, alright…" Dick cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck, "Well, uh, you wanna come downstairs and meet the lady who owns the place?"
"Sure," Marilyn nodded quickly, following him out the doorway.
"Mrs. DeLaney is real nice," Dick said as he led her down the creaky stairs, "I think you'll like her."
Marilyn hummed in response, more interested in taking in the look of the place as they walked. The whole building seemed to have that same charming clutter as the room had. It was all worn down yet tidy. It felt cozy. Homey. Even more so when they stepped off the bottom of the stairs. That's when Marilyn's eyes quickly flicked over to the crackling fireplace. It warmed the room substantially, even though it hadn't been especially cold upstairs. At least, not that she'd realized before.
Billy looked up from the wooden chair he was reclined back in by the fire, a cigarette dangling from his withered lips. Upon seeing her, he sat up with a creak of his chair and banged his fist loudly onto the round wooden end table beside him, making Marilyn flinch.
"Gracie!" He shouted around his cigarette, "Where you at, woman! I need another beer!"
Marilyn looked up as she heard a woman scoff loudly from the other room.
"The nuclear apocalypse has not been kind to your manners, William!" The woman shouted back.
Her voice had that same gravely, scratchy quality as Billy's, and Marilyn had an inkling of why. Her suspicions were confirmed as the woman entered the room, holding a metal tray up with one hand. She was just like Billy. A ghoul. No nose, translucent eyes, and skin peeling away red like a sore. She had fuller eyebrows than Billy, but still had no hair on her head. Like Billy, she wore a hat to cover most of this, a broad white derby hat with a massive purple satin flower. She also wore a patched blue sundress spotted with little faded white polka dots and tied with a purple sash at the waist, a lacy off-white cardigan covering her arms. She even had a cascading string of pearls around her neck. She was surprisingly stylish for a woman in the wasteland, Marilyn thought. Though, thinking of it, Marilyn hadn't actually met any other women thus far. Maybe they all looked like this? Maybe she was the odd one, with her shapeless Vault suit.
"Here's your beer," The ghoul woman, Gracie apparently, handed the beer to Billy.
Billy opened it on the edge of the table beside him, earning a tsk from Gracie. He glanced at her, seeing her expectant scowl and nodded slightly.
"Yeah, uh, thanks," He cleared his throat, giving in with surprisingly little fight.
"Well, I'm glad to see there's at least some semblance of the man I used to know in there," Gracie huffed, holding the metal tray against her hip.
Gracie's pale gaze then flicked over towards Marilyn, only just noticing her there. She immediately perked up, a broad smile forming on her tattered lips.
"Ah, you didn't tell me she was awake!" Gracie swatted at Billy's shoulder, getting only a grunt from him in response as she swept over to Marilyn's side, "How was the room, darling?"
"Um, good," Marilyn blinked meekly under the shadow of the woman, "It was… very nice. I liked it."
"Oh, did you? I'm so glad!" Gracie beamed, "You slept for so long, I was worried you'd been smothered to death by that ratty old quilt! Now, let's take a look at you!"
Marilyn smiled sheepishly as Gracie gave her a once-over.
"She's a pretty one!" Gracie hummed before turning to Dick with a wink, "So you'd best keep her close!"
"Wha–huh?" Dick blinked.
"Why's that? Those slavers from Stone Harbor been skulking around again?" Billy asked as he put out his cigarette in the ashtray on the table beside him.
"No, Will," Gracie looked at him flatly, "That's not why I… wait, you haven't heard?"
"Heard what?" Billy perked a brow at her.
"Those slavers got run off," Gracie explained, "Those madmen from Shawcrest took a band up and cleared them out."
"What exactly is this Shawcrest?" Marilyn piped up, "Everyone keeps mentioning it."
"It's a city of raiders just outside Wildwood, Led by this fella called Shaw. Real nasty. Makes Scud look sane by comparison," Billy explained, "They took control of the Redding Bridge, blocking passage between Wildwood and Rio Grande."
"Makes everyone coming in and out of Wildwood or Diamond Beach have to come up here through Grassy Sound," Graice added, "Not too bad for business, though, so I won't complain."
"What about that other bridge?" Marilyn asked, turning to Dick, "You remember that one right by the Vault?"
"Oh yeah," Dick nodded, "What about that one?"
"That's the Thorofare Bridge," Billy sniffed, "Brotherhood's got that one locked down tighter than a duck's—"
"Ahem," Gracie cut him off with a glare.
"If these Brotherhood guys are such a nuisance to everyone as they sound, why doesn't somebody just deal with them?" Marilyn asked.
"What, you volunteering, kid?" Billy snorted.
"Well, no, but…" Marilyn frowned, rubbing her arm.
"Then no point in complaining, if you don't even intend to do anything about it," Billy grumbled, earning a hit in the shoulder from Gracie, "What?"
"Don't be so rude," Gracie scolded, turning to Marilyn with a smile, "So, you mentioned you're from a Vault?"
Billy glanced over to Marilyn, eyes narrowing as he sipped his beer.
"Um, yes," Marilyn furrowed her brow, pointedly avoiding Billy's glare.
"The same one as Will?" Gracie asked innocently as she finally set the metal tray she'd been holding down on a nearby table.
Billy sat up at this, going to speak, but Gracie continued on without noticing.
"Oh wait, that's right," She hummed, tapping her fingers against her lips, "Will said everyone from his Vault was dead, didn't he?"
Marilyn's eyebrows immediately shot up and she exchanged alarmed looks with Dick, while Billy hastily rose from his seat.
"No, they're not from my Vault," He gritted out, beginning to push her towards the door she'd first emerged from, "Hey, don't you have somethin' better to do? In the kitchen?"
"Huh? Hey! Will!" Gracie huffed, slapping his hands away and smoothing her clothes, "Don't muss my dress!"
Billy gave her an unpleasant look before grabbing her wrist.
"I gotta talk to you," He growled, "In private."
Gracie just furrowed her brow as Billy yanked her into the kitchen, the door shutting soundly behind them. A beat passed before Dick moved over to Marilyn's side.
"Did I miss something just now," Dick mumbled, glancing at her warily, "Or did she just say—"
"No, you heard right," Marilyn frowned.
She bit her lip, glancing up at Dick, who looked back at her equally worried. She had a very bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. It almost made her prefer the bad dream.