The yearning never ended.
The dreadful longing was always there, haunting him like a specter.
The pure, unchecked desire to see her face one last time.
He held the picture closely as he sat quietly in his office, the only sound being the ever-present hum of Vault 101.
He always questioned if he had done the right thing, bringing them here, abandoning everyone else; abandoning Project Purity. She was smiling in the photo, it was a group photo; them and the rest of their compatriots in more hopeful times.
Staring into her eyes, hoping to find some answer in the still photo, he felt a hollow disappointment, nearly complete, as they provided no answers or comfort.
He was alone.
A loud bang echoed on the metal door that blocked the entrance to his humble place of business.
"Daaaaaaad!!"
He couldn't help but chuckle to himself, in his melancholy he had forgotten the facts; he wasn't alone, not truly.
Quickly, he placed the picture gently on the wooden desk beside him. He got up from his chair, rushed to the panel beside the large metal door, pushed the green button, and the door quickly slid into the floor, revealing his little girl.
None of his experiences could have prepared him for what he saw.
Blood was dripping down her smooth, pale face and neck. A large gash was present on her chin, rapidly leaking blood, like a faucet dripping all over herself and her blue jumpsuit.
He was a professional who'd seen many things like this before, nearly all of them far more fatal. Yet the panic that chilled his veins was unlike any other he'd felt before, when it was his little girl's blood.
Without question, he rushed across the room, gathering up the first aid kit he'd always kept nearby in case of an emergency. He rushed back to her, opened it, and was relieved to find all the essentials.
A blood bag, some sanitary wipes, a stimpak, and some basic gauze and sutures; perfectly suitable for most wounds, he had no doubt.
He quickly set down the box at their feet, pulling out the sanitary wipes. Gently grabbing her by the wrist, he tried to pull her closer to him. However, she struggled and tried to wriggle out of his grip.
"Sweetheart, I need to stop the bleeding. I know it'll sting, but—"
She swatted his hand away.
"DAD! Jerry's hurt worse than me! He's hurt way worse than me. You have to help him, please!"
Jerry?
His memory wasn't photographic, but it was a good one. As the vault's only resident doctor, he liked to think he knew the names of just about everyone.
He didn't know any Jerry.
She seemed to register his confusion, then began slapping him multiple times on the arm in a frenzy. He couldn't help but be taken aback by it; it didn't hurt him, but she'd never been so desperate about something as to strike him before.
"Please, Dad, please! There's no time; we have to save him!"
His body kicked into action even quicker than his mind did; he'd never seen her this desperate, never not even once, and by God, he was going to help her no matter what it took.
He rushed back to his desk, digging into one of the shelves until he found it—the brown leather doctor's bag he always kept nearby.
He knew what was inside; he didn't even need to look. The bag contained multiple super stimpaks, radaways, morphine, antibiotics, and more. With this bag, he was a walking hospital.
He rushed back to his little girl, who was twitching in place, ready to bolt out of the door the second he gave his say-so. She was completely unconcerned with the blood still dripping freely down her face and tiny body.
Reaching quickly into the first aid kit, he once again pulled out a small packet with a sanitary wipe inside. With no other hand available, he ripped it open quickly with his teeth.
Perhaps not the most sanitary option, but considering the dire situation, he figured it would be of little consequence, yet scolded himself nonetheless.
"Okay, sweetie, hold this up to your chin to stem the bleeding as much as you can, okay?"
"But!"
"We aren't leaving until you do."
She grumbled and moaned momentarily, even stomping her feet a bit, before reluctantly grabbing the cloth and pressing it tightly against her wound.
"Good girl, now come on, we don't have much time, show me where he is, okay, as fast as you can!"
She didn't even take half a second, she was already rushing out the door and down the metal hallways of the vault.
The quiet life in the vault certainly didn't do his physicality any favors; he found himself much more winded than he expected, though still keeping pace with her.
As they rushed further down the halls, his curiosity quickly began to overwhelm him.
"Mylie, what happened? How did you and your friend get hurt?"
She never even slowed down.
"Me and Jerry were playing a game together; he wasn't even doing anything! That jerk Butch came out of nowhere and started attacking Jerry!"
Butch DeLoria, he might've known, he and his girl never got along. He was your typical bully, belittling people to make himself feel strong. It's no wonder he and his girl didn't get along; she was strong.
Always headstrong, always ready to speak her mind, and never backing down from a challenge, his daughter and his wife had that in common, and sometimes it made him miss her all the more.
Other times it made him wish he had their strength.
"I tried to protect him, but Butch had all of his stupid friends with him… I couldn't beat them all."
Anger seeped into his bones as he imagined the scene in his head, Butch and the other boys hurting his little girl, going so far as to draw blood even.
He was going to have a very harsh talk with Butch's mother, assuming she wasn't too drunk to understand what he was saying.
They continued down the metal hallways for what felt like an eternity, turning down different corners every so often. They passed a few people in jumpsuits, much like theirs, who looked on curiously as they passed.
After another minute or two, Mylie rounded another corner, sliding on the floor, nearly losing her balance as she did.
"Here! He's right over here!"
He quickly rushed around the corner, preparing himself for whatever gruesome sight he might witness.
Nothing could've prepared him for the real deal.
His daughter was there, her small form crouched over a small figure beneath her, a figure with six limbs and a pair of antennae.
He came up behind her as reality finally began to set in; Jerry was a radroach.
The small roach was still alive, it was abundantly clear it wouldn't be much longer, however. A small clean slice arched down the back of the creature, shredding one of its wings in the process. It twitched and squirmed on the ground but didn't make much progress in getting anywhere.
His daughter looked back at him, her eyes and brow knitted tightly in concern.
"Do you think you can help him?"
His heart shattered in his chest almost instantaneously, her expression was so real, her concern so genuine, there was no doubt she wanted to help this creature.
Not that he could.
Pondering what to do next, he found himself without words, unable to even figure out where to start.
"Dad?" She tugged on his white overcoat, her hazel eyes, so much like her mother's, glistened with fresh tears ready to fall.
He gripped her by the shoulders tightly, bringing her eyes level with his own, never once breaking contact.
"Sweetie, Jerry is a radroach."
She sniffled a bit.
"Yeah, so what?"
It nearly broke him to see her so distraught.
"So… even if I could save him, which I don't believe I can, I don't know if I should."
He glanced back at the creature; it was hard to feel empathy for the pest, he'd seen swarms of them devour more than their fair share of vault dwellers and fresh scavengers alike.
"But- but that's not fair, you said you help anyone! You said! You have that hypochronic oath!"
He gripped her slightly tighter, not enough to hurt, hoping to provide some level of comfort and security.
"Hippocratic Oath, sweetie, do you want to know one of its major tenets?"
She shook her head in affirmation, one of forming tears now running smoothly down her face.
"'Do no harm' and, unfortunately, even if I could save Jerry, he'd just go on to hurt us."
She seemed to ponder what he said for only a moment, before rapidly and violently shaking her head.
"That's not fair! You don't know he will hurt us, why would he? Jerry deserves to live too! Butch is the one who hurt him; he should be the one to die!"
He couldn't help but feel a pit of sickness in his stomach; an eight-year-old was far too young to wish death on anyone.
"Sweetheart, I don't think Butch was at fault here; he knows radroaches are dangerous, and he certainly could have handled it better, but—"
"What's the difference between Jerry and Butch? Jerry was cool; I'd never seen anything like him. Butch is just like everyone else here—boring and mean!"
"Aw, are you saying I'm boring and mean too?" He couldn't help but chuckle despite the situation.
"Obviously I didn't mean you… though you are being a meanie right now."
The mirth quickly left him, the accusation hit home, and guilt swallowed his heart.
"I'm sorry, Mylie. Really, I am. Can I do anything to make it better?"
Tears began to freely roll down her face; she looked back up at him once again with those pleading hazel orbs.
"You really won't try?"
He shook his head, his grim frown never wavering.
"I can't, I'm sorry, sweetie, it wouldn't be good for the vault."
He pulled her close, trying to offer her comfort in any way he could.
It didn't get that far before she quickly and violently ripped away from him.
"I hate the stupid vault too! I'm sick of being down here. I don't want to anymore!"
"Mylie…"
He tried to reach out to her again, desperately trying to bring her closer, as tears ran down her cheeks, now red from crying. Her eyes, once filled with empathy and sorrow, now turned hard with rage.
She didn't say another word, turning and running down the hall as her tears fell into the air behind her.
He was left alone in the hallway as the echoes of her steps became more and more distant. He turned back to the roach, its antennae slightly twitching as it slowly eked out the last of its life.
His thoughts, once again, inevitably turned to his wife.
Oh Catherine, was I wrong to bring us here? I wish you were here; I don't know how to do this without you.
There was no answer, just the constant buzz of the machinery in Vault 101.