Chapter Text
The sun burns brightly in the late afternoon sky, baking everything across the Wasteland. It seems to burn away the shadows, even in a place as dark as the abandoned neighborhood Lucy and Cooper walk through now. The houses are crumbling, half buried in sand. Windows have been blown out, shards of grimy glass still clinging to the frames. Any doors still left on their rusty hinges are wedged open by the sand spilling from the gaping entryways. It is a place of long-forgotten memories, ghosts of a different life, a different time, still lingering. Lucy’s wide-eyed gaze flicks back and forth as she takes it all in. Cooper walks ahead of her, Dogmeat at his side, seemingly uninterested in the neighborhood around them.
It had been a few days since they first started traveling together, and she hadn’t gotten more than a few words out of him. The ghoul seems to have retreated into himself a bit after everything that had happened at the New California Republic headquarters. Lucy had tried to reach out, wanting to know more about how the ghoul knew her father and the world before. However, he had just shut her down. She couldn’t even get a name out of him.
“Don’t need to be gettin’ friendly, sweetheart. Let’s just focus on findin’ your daddy,” he had snapped at her over the fire a few nights ago.
Lucy hadn’t been inclined to argue. Now, she lets her mind wander from the ghoul, her attention on the dilapidated homes around them. She can’t help but wonder what life was like for the people who used to call this place home, what it must have looked like before the bombs fell. She is so distracted that she almost runs right into Cooper.
Lucy comes to an abrupt halt, startled out of her thoughts. The ghoul shoots her a glare over his shoulder.
“Quit daydreamin’, vaultie.” His voice is rough.
Lucy steps to the side of him, peeking around his shoulder. “What is it?”
Cooper’s attention is on a house to their left. Lucy follows his gaze, knitting her brows. Its roof has partially caved in, and a large hole has been blown in one of the walls. Just inside that blasted wall is what appears to have been a small living room. She can’t see anything out of the ordinary.
“Looks like we ain’t the only ones who’ve passed through here,” he says, pointing to the living room where she can now see a small, scorched ring on the sand-swept carpet. Remnants of a fire.
Lucy clenches her jaw and nods. The ghoul starts off again, his pace a little quicker, each step deliberate. She sees him sweep his gaze from side-to-side as they continue onward. She isn’t entirely sure what to be on the lookout for as she glances around. In her limited experience with the Wasteland, she knows it could really be anything, from mutants to irradiated monsters. She decides to just keep an eye out either way, her hand going to the gun at her side.
They are almost out of the neighborhood, the cracked, paved road disappearing into a sand dune about thirty feet from them, when a figure emerges from the last house on the left. Cooper comes to a stop, Lucy halting just behind him. The figure moves slowly from the shadows of the house and steps into the blinding sun. Another figure follows, then another, with three more appearing from the house on the right. They all move to stand in the middle of the road, blocking Lucy and Cooper’s path. The six strangers are clad in worn, cobbled together pieces of armor and leather clothing- typical of many in the Wasteland. The thing that catches Lucy’s attention are the helmets a few of them wear. They almost look like the old motorcycle helmets she had seen in books in her vault’s library, but there are two, small horns curving out from the sides of them. She can’t help but wonder if the style choice is significant.
“f*ckin’ raiders,” the ghoul grumbles. His fingers twitch toward the gun holstered at his side, but he doesn’t make a move to draw it yet.
Lucy’s hand grips her gun tightly, ready to pull it, should she need to.
One of the raiders takes a step toward them, flashing all of his browning teeth in a grimy smile. The helmet on his head shifts a little as he tips his head back to get a good look at the pair.
“Well, well, well. Haven’t seen one of your kind in a long time,” he drawls, nodding to Cooper.
Lucy’s gaze briefly goes to the back of the ghoul’s head. He doesn’t even react to the raider, ever the picture of calm and collected.
The raider’s gaze shifts to where Lucy is still standing partially behind him. Something darkens in his eyes as he looks over her hungrily. The girl has to suppress a shudder at the raider’s brazen, scrutinizing gaze. She frowns a little as he grins.
“A pretty little thing ya got there…and a vault dweller, too,” he says, observing her blue-and-yellow vault suit.
She swallows hard at that. Cooper had insisted on her finding something else to wear, saying it made her an easy target, but the suit is one of the last pieces she has from that time in her life before…before all of this. If she were to get rid of it, then she would be officially closing that chapter. She had found that she wasn’t quite ready to let go of that part of herself yet, so the vault suit remained.
Cooper narrows his eyes a little at the raider. He had a feeling this was going to end in bullets and blood, but he was willing to make small talk first. “She ain’t for sale, if that’s what you’re wonderin’,” he tells the raider.
The raider doesn’t take his eyes off Lucy. “Shame.”
The others behind him seem to be growing antsy, shifting on their feet, weapons clutched tightly in their hands. Tension seems to electrify the air, a sign of the storm swiftly gathering on the horizon. Cooper doesn’t take his eyes off the first raider, watching his every move with tense muscles. Lucy feels her heart beat faster as the anticipation of a fight makes her adrenaline spike.
“Guess it don’t matter, does it? Because we’re takin’ her either way…and anythin’ else worth takin’ from ya.” The raider’s smile seems to sharpen as he speaks, a savage glint in his eyes.
“How d’ya figure that?” The ghoul’s hand twitches closer to that gun.
The raider takes another step forward, the others behind him following suit. “Figured if you’re dead, ghoul, then not much stoppin’ us from takin’ what we want.”
That’s when the raider finally pulls his pistol. Cooper is faster though, drawing his gun and firing. The bullet blasts a hole in the raider’s chest, blood and gore exploding from his back, splattering his companions. The raider’s face freezes in an expression of shock as his body collapses to the ground, blood pouring onto the sand and asphalt.
The next moment, everything explodes in a roar of gunshots and bullets flying. Lucy dives to the side and pulls her gun. She takes aim as a few of the raiders rush Cooper. He doesn’t balk. The ghoul only co*cks his weapon and shoots, again and again. Each of his bullets finds their marks, blowing holes in the raiders’ bodies. Some of them manage to get off a few shots, hitting Cooper. He just takes the hits, barely acknowledging them.
Lucy aims her gun and pulls the trigger. She misses the raider careening wildly toward her at first, but when she shoots again, her bullet drives home in the raider’s skull. The woman’s body goes stiff, but it has built up momentum already. She pitches forward and skids to a stop face-down in the dirt. Cooper is finishing off the last two raiders when the sound of loud whoops echoes around them. The ghoul pauses his shooting for a moment, glancing around with narrowed eyes.
More raiders pour from a few of the other houses, weapons out, ferocious screams ripping from their throats. His gaze goes to where Lucy scrambles to her feet, her eyes wide.
“Get out of here!” he barks at her, turning to shoot a few more of the raiders.
Lucy hesitates for a moment. Then, a volley of bullets has her sprinting in the other direction, aiming for one of the houses. The ghoul can take most bullets without much of an issue, but the wrong one in the wrong place would spell the end for her. If she can get inside a house though, then she might be able to provide some help from a covered position.
She sprints for the nearest house and slips around the front door hanging halfway open. She is about to peek back through the doorway when a low, vicious laugh drifts from somewhere deeper in the house. The sound of gunshots and screams seem to float in from the street as a raider emerges from the shadows and into the hallway leading to the front door, to Lucy. She is about to take aim, but the raider already has his gun pointed at her. The barrel of the rifle seems to glare her down as she stares wide-eyed, frozen in place.
“Keep that at your side, girlie…unless ya want a brand new bullet hole in that pretty face of yours,” he hisses, slowly walking down the hall toward her.
Lucy’s mind races, searching for a way to escape. The ghoul is too busy dealing with all of the other raiders that she is sure he won’t be coming to the rescue any time soon. She knows she can’t shoot him faster than he can shoot her. If she tries to run, that raider will just fill her full of lead. Dread sluices through her, cold and thick, as she realizes that she’s been backed into a corner. Her heart rate ratchets up.
“You don’t have to do this,” she says, almost pleadingly.
The raider continues toward her, a slow, stalking gate. A predator taking its time with its prey. “Awh, but I want to, suga’.”
Lucy is about to risk turning and running, hoping she can slip around the door in time, when a shot rings out. The raider freezes, and the girl gapes, not entirely sure what just happened. Suddenly, the raider coughs and blood spurts from his chapped lips. He makes a strange gurgling sound as he slowly falls to his knees. Blood begins to gush from a wound on his side. From the entry point, it is clear that the bullet struck his heart. Dark red pools beneath him as he crumples, one last breath rattling in his chest. Lucy gapes at where the raider now lies dead on the sandy floor. She wonders if the ghoul has come after all.
The sound of footsteps makes her gaze snap up. An unfamiliar man emerges from a side room, stepping over the raider’s body without so much as a glance. He doesn’t appear to be another raider, most of his garb covered by a worn, brown leather jacket. The man doesn’t have one of those strange helmets. His dark hair is pulled away from his granite-hewn face in a loose bun, leaving a gruesome scar that snakes down his cheek on full display. The sawed-off barrel of a shotgun rests on his shoulder as he walks over to Lucy. She instinctively takes a step back, lifting her gun a little. The stranger stops a few feet from her, but he doesn’t move that gun from his shoulder. His dark eyes look her up and down. His gaze is curious, unlike the hungry, greedy eyes of those raiders.
“S’okay. I’m not gonna hurt ya,” he says, his voice a deep rumble in his chest.
Lucy raises a brow at him, still suspicious. “Why did you shoot him?”
“Would you’ve rathered me let him take ya?”
She shakes her head a little, eyes flicking to the raider’s body briefly. This man had saved her…for one reason or another. A few rapid shots from back out on the street bring her to attention. Lucy risks a glance back to the partly open doorway.
“Sounds like your friend might need some help,” he notes with a jerk of his chin to the open door.
She isn’t sure how he knows that she isn’t alone. She also doubts that the ghoul will need any help, but she needs to be sure. Turning on her heel, she starts for the door without another word to the stranger. Footsteps follow closely behind her as the man tails her out of the house.
The raider, the very last f*cking one, raises his gun and aims it at Cooper. He smirks, knowing his bullet, no matter how true, will not be enough to kill him. The raider smiles wide, flashing every brown tooth that he has left.
“One less f*ckin’ ghoul,” he taunts.
His finger falls on the trigger. A shot rings out. Cooper blinks once. Twice. He glances down at his chest. No bullet hole. His eyes snap back up to the raider. There’s a ragged, gaping hole blasted in his throat. Blood trickles down his neck, soaking the leather collar of his vest. He makes an odd gurgling noise as he begins to choke on his own blood. Falling to his knees, he grabs at his throat. The ghoul stares at him, dumbfounded. His first thought is that Miss MacLean had somehow returned and shot him, as implausible as that seems. Then, the scuff of boots on dirt gets his attention. His eyes widen slightly at the unfamiliar woman walking up behind the raider. She lifts her pistol to his head and co*cks it. The raider’s eyes go wide as she rests her finger on the trigger.
“What’s wrong with ghouls?” she asks, clearly not looking for an answer.
He begins to shake his head, trying to plead with her. The woman pulls the trigger without another word. The raider’s skull explodes, spraying blood and brains everywhere. Cooper doesn’t even flinch as it splatters his front, a few flecks landing on his cheek. The body stills, kneeling there for a few moments before collapsing in the dirt. Blood begins to pool around it, pouring from where the man’s head used to be. The strange woman just casually steps over the body and makes her way to Cooper. She comes to a stop so close that her boots almost touch the toes of his. He looks up at her, narrowing his eyes beneath the brim of his hat. She tilts her head, smiling down at him. The sunlight hits her face, illuminating her features. For a moment, he is taken off guard.
The face he looks at now can only be described as stupidly f*cking perfect. From the gentle slope of her nose to those bright green eyes, she is nothing but annoyingly f*cking flawless. Even her smile, whiter than most nowadays and oddly straight, is f*cking perfect.
“Hi there.”
He glares up at her from where he still leans back in the dirt. “Who the f*ck are you?”
She lets out a small laugh. “That’s a hell of a way to say thank you.”
“Nothin’ to thank ya for. I was fine.”
She shrugs and holds out her free hand to him. “Name’s Cass. Need a hand?”
He doesn't say a word as he ignores her outstretched hand and pushes himself to his feet. As he stands, she holsters her pistol. Damned fool, he thinks. Cooper shifts on his feet and smiles down at her.
“Big f*ckin’ mistake, sweetheart.”
In an instant, his gun is out and aimed at her heart. She doesn’t even flinch, much to his irritation. His finger hovers over the trigger, but she remains unmoved. A small part of him is fascinated. Either she is really brave, or really f*cking stupid. He supposes that, a lot of times, those two qualities go hand-in-hand.
“You ain’t even gonna pull your pistol?” the ghoul asks.
The woman, Cass, co*cks her head to the side a bit. “You really going to shoot me after I just saved you?”
“Saved me, huh?”
Just as he is about to blow a hole in her heart, he registers the sound of swiftly approaching footsteps. For a moment, he thinks it’s more raiders, but that’s when he sees a familiar blue and yellow suit. Lucy comes running up behind Cass, Dogmeat and a strange man in tow. The dog had sprinted away earlier, chasing after any raiders trying to escape the volley of his shots. The blood on her muzzle tells him that none had escaped the neighborhood. A good dog. A very good dog, indeed.
As they get closer, the man’s dark eyes narrow at Cooper, and he immediately pulls his gun when he notices where the ghoul’s is aimed. The stranger points the sawed-off shotgun at his head, glaring him down. He must be with this woman, Cooper thinks to himself. He flashes the man a smirk and thinks how f*cking shootable his face looks.
“You think you can shoot me faster than I can shoot her?”
“Wanna find out, ghoul?” He basically spits the last word at him.
Lucy immediately steps between the two men, hands up, and he feels a twinge of annoyance with her. “Stop, stop!” She looks at all of us. “Let’s just all put our guns down!” When no one moves, she turns a little, and her gaze settles on the ghoul. “Please put your gun down.”
“Do what the girl says,” the man growls, his tone mocking.
"Oh, I don’t think so-”
“They aren’t threatening us, so put it down!” The vaultie’s outburst leaves him a bit stunned, and her face is scrunched up in that way that tells him she’s pissed.
Feeling a bit amused by her, Cooper decides to lower his gun, but he doesn't holster it. The woman standing before him smiles and doesn’t even turn to look at the man as she addresses him.
“Roachie, you too.”
“Roachie” reluctantly lowers his shotgun, but grips it tightly at his side. The moment is rife with tension. Any little thing might set the two of them off, both feeling particularly trigger-happy. They all fall silent. The awkward quiet stretches on as they all look each other over, sizing up one another. Cass shifts a little on her feet.
Her sharp gaze continues watching both the ghoul and Roachie carefully. When she determines that they aren’t about to go for each other’s throats, she finally breaks the silence.
“Great. Now that we’re all friends…” Cass’s voice trails off as she turns to Lucy with an assessing look. That shrewd gaze doesn’t seem to miss a thing as she motions to the dirtied vault suit. “I take it you’re not from around here.”
Lucy shakes her head a little. “No. Not really.”
Cass nods. “Hm.”
The young girl holds out her hand, and Cooper has to keep himself from rolling his eyes. “Lucy. Lucy MacLean.”
The woman glances at the girl’s hand and, at first, he doesn't think she will take it. To his surprise, Cass reaches out after a few seconds and clasps Lucy’s hand. She gives her a firm shake and offers a genial smile. “Cass.” She lets go of Lucy’s hand and motions to the man. “This is Roachie.”
“Roachie?” Lucy looks at him with raised brows.
The man shrugs nonchalantly. “Long story.”
“And you are?” Cass looks to Cooper expectantly.
She wants a name, but he isn’t particularly inclined to give any of them one. He gives a small shake of his head.
“None of your business, sweetheart.”
Roachie seems to roll his eyes a little. “What? Do we just call you “the ghoul”, then?”
“It’s fine, Roachie. If he doesn’t want to give us a name, then that’s his choice,” Cass snaps a little at him.
The man falls silent again. Lucy glances at them all and then her gaze settles on Cass, offering up a tentative smile to her.
“Well, either way, thanks for saving us.” Ever the mediator, it seems.
“Don’t know about this ‘us’ you’re talkin’ ‘bout. I was fine, vaultie,” the ghoul grumbles.
She ignores him as Cass says, “Raiders are pretty bad around here.”
The girl eyes her carefully for a moment, turning something over in her mind. “You guys showed up just in the knick of time. It was a good thing, really, but…”
Lucy doesn’t finish her sentence, but the implication is there. Cooper narrows his eyes at the two strangers as he begins to wonder the same thing. It sure was convenient that they had arrived just in time.
Cass glances at Roachie before letting out a small sigh. “We camped out overnight in one of the houses. Decided to clear out when the raiders showed up to set a trap.”
Cooper thinks back to the house with the wall blasted away. The remnants of a campfire there had looked rather fresh.
“We were on our way out when we saw you guys coming through,” she admits.
Roachie cuts in here, voice like ice, “I wanted to leave, but Cass, here, has a soft spot for-” He pauses with a glare at Cooper. “-people. And I didn't want to leave a young girl to those monsters.”
Cooper doesn't miss the fact that the man basically said he only came back for Lucy. Unsurprisingly, the man hates ghouls.
Lucy nods, not saying anything, but looking a little less suspicious. Cooper isn't entirely sure he believes them, but he can't argue that they had stepped in to help when they could have just left. They also weren't trying to kill or rob them…at least for now.
“What brought you out this way?” Cass asks, changing the subject.
He is about to tell her that it’s none of her business, but, to his chagrin, Lucy replies first, “We’re tracking someone.”
Cooper suppresses a groan as he glares at her. The girl doesn’t know when to keep her mouth shut. He thinks about snatching her arm and dragging her onward, but Roachie eyes him closely. The man likely will just try to gun them down or track them if they bolt now. The thought makes Cooper rethink that idea. Clenching his jaw, his feet remain planted. He'll just have to shoot their way out if it really comes down to it.
Cass shares a knowing look with Roachie and then says, “Well, you might want to find a different route. This whole area is rife with raiders, and they deal in all kinds of sh*t- weapons, drugs, flesh.” Her gaze flicks briefly to Cooper. “Ghouls, too.”
Lucy frowns. “I don’t know if there is another route.”
“Where ya headed?” Roachie asks.
Lucy looks like she is about to answer him when the ghoul finally speaks up.
“We ain’t tellin’ you sh*t.”
Roachie’s narrowed gaze finds him again. “Just tryin’ to f*cking help, ghoul.”
“Roachie.” Cass’s voice is filled with warning.
He smirks a bit as he watches the man press his lips together. An obedient dog.
Cass looks at Cooper, suddenly serious. “Look, I get not wanting to trust us, but I don’t think you understand what you’re getting into.”
“It’s fine, sweetheart. I’ve done plenty of jobs in dangerous places.”
She eyes him closely, and he can see she’s working something over in her mind. The scrutiny in that gaze is enough to make lesser men balk, but he refuses to shy away from it. After a moment, she lets out a small sigh.
“There’s only one place worth heading out to the Mojave for,” she says, motioning to the road leading beyond the neighborhood. Her gaze sharpens as it meets his. “If you’re really heading to where I think you’re heading, then raiders will be the least of your worries. sh*t’s gotten bad out that way.”
“And just how the hell would you know?”
Cooper’s voice is harsh, but it doesn’t seem to phase her.
“We’re couriers. Done enough jobs that have brought us out this way before to know that it isn’t safe,” she answers.
“What do you suggest we do?” Lucy cuts in.
Cass glances at her, then to Roachie. They share a strange look, one Cooper catches but can’t decipher, before the woman’s gaze is back on Lucy. Her expression is a bit softer now, kind even.
“We can guide you through, make sure you take routes that are safe.” She pauses before adding with a slightly amused smile, “Well, safe enough.”
The ghoul lets out a small snort. “Huh. And what’ll that cost us?”
Cass looks at him, raising a brow. When she doesn’t say anything, he adds, “Nothin’s free out here, so let’s cut the sh*t. What do ya want?”
Roachie replies before Cass can, “Two thousand caps.”
Cooper chuckles a little. “Sure must think a lot of yourself to ask for that.”
He glares at the ghoul, a look promising violence, as he hisses through clenched teeth, “We’re offerin’ to get ya both across that f*cking desert alive. We’re givin’ ya a goddamn deal askin’ for only that.”
“A deal? You-”
Lucy cuts him off, offering up a hand to shake, “Deal.”
Cooper’s anger flares, and his head whips to her. “The f*ck do ya think you’re doin’, vaultie?”
She glances over her shoulder at him. There’s a resolute look in those doe eyes of hers, and her voice is firm, unwavering. “If it really is that dangerous, then we need their help. We need to get across that desert.”
Her insistence makes him want to throttle her, but he stays stock-still, almost trembling with rage. She’s got that damned look on her face that tells him arguing is pointless. She’s already made up her mind, and no amount of trying to reason with her will change it. He also knows they need to get across the desert in relatively one piece. If these two were really couriers and have traveled through the Mojave Wasteland, then they could at least be trusted to get them through safely for the price they’ve laid out. After all, who knows what they’ll find at the end of this trail? So, he stays quiet, fuming at them all.
The girl turns back to look at Roachie and Cass. “So, do we have a deal?”
The pair share another one of those looks, like they’re having a silent conversation of their own. Then, they both look at Lucy. Cass grasps her hand again, and they shake firmly on it. Cooper wonders if she has just shook on a deal that will end up costing them both a lot more than two thousand caps. He will need to keep an eye on these two, and he has already made up his mind that any whiff of betrayal will be snuffed out with a bullet to the back of the head.
“Deal,” Cass says with a smile.
The ghoul can’t help but stare at the pure, undiluted warmth in it, a rare f*cking sight…but likely a well rehearsed one. He will definitely need to keep an eye on her.
As they let their hands fall away, he steps forward.
“Payment isn’t made until the job’s done, though. Y’all get the caps if ya get us safely to our destination,” he growls in warning.
Roachie looks like he is about to argue, but Cass cuts in, that smile turning on him.
“Don’t work like that, cowboy. You give us some now, then the rest in full later.”
“How much?” Lucy asks.
Cass considers her for a moment before saying, “Five hundred caps.”
Lucy’s face falls a little, and Cooper shoots the courier a sharp look.
“You’re f*ckin’ crazy if you think we’re givin’ y’all that much.”
She doesn’t even look at him as Lucy shakes her head a little. “We can’t give you that much right now.”
Cass raises a brow at her. “How much can you give then?”
Cooper steps forward, digging into his coat pocket and fishing out a handful of caps. Cass scrambles a little as she goes to take them, her hands fumbling as he shoves them at her. He brings his face closer to hers, making sure she can see the cold eyes beneath his hat. She meets his gaze, and there doesn’t seem to be even a flicker of fear in those emerald eyes. It annoys him. He has seen some of the most hardened men tremble just looking at him, but this woman…She must be really f*cking stupid then.
“That’s all you’re gonna get until the job’s done.” His tone is cool, calloused.
She doesn’t move. She just stares up at him, that gaze unwavering. Cass’s brows knit together a little as she seems to be taking the ghoul in, and he almost can’t believe it when he sees a smile play on those lips. Before he can say anything more, Roachie takes a step forward.
“Stay the hell away from her, ghoul,” he grounds out.
Cooper catches the way his finger twitches over the trigger of the shotgun. He huffs a little, smirking as he moves back. Cass glances down at the caps still clutched in her hands. She doesn’t even bother counting them as she slips them into her jacket pocket.
“I’ll consider us square then…for now. We’ll need the rest when we reach the destination,” she says.
Roachie still looks on edge, but he relaxes a little with the ghoul out of the woman’s face. He shifts and fits the shotgun into a modified holster strapped across his back. Folding his arms across his broad chest, the man gives the ghoul a hard look. “And what exactly is your destination?”
Cooper doesn’t holster his weapon, unwilling to give up that leverage on them. His expression is cold.
“New Vegas.”
***
They had made it to a small settlement on the outskirts of the desert by the time night truly fell. The settlement is more of an outpost than anything, its fluctuating population composed mainly of travelers. Folks didn’t usually stick around for long, and the few that remained permanently had made quite a living on trading and dealing in all sorts of things.
Cass leads them up to the archway, built from three rusted-out cars, two upright and one laying horizontally across the others’ fenders. No sign marks this place. Lucy follows closely behind, Roachie and the ghoul taking up the rear. Neither would let the other get behind them, so they walked side-by-side, keeping pace with one another. They had been sure to give a wide berth so they wouldn’t walk too close together. The dog had remained at the ghoul’s side, occasionally growling at Roachie throughout the trek. Cass had to suppress a chuckle every time she threw a glance over her shoulder at them. Both of them always had a sour look on their faces. She gets a glimpse of those sour puss*s again as she comes to a stop just outside the archway and turns to face them.
“This is Waypoint. Basically a pit stop for anyone going to and from the desert. Most of the people coming through here are regulars, like Roachie and me. Folks ‘round here are pretty wary of strangers, so try not to do anything that’ll draw too much attention.” She gives a pointed look at the ghoul. Between him and the vault girl, he definitely looks like more of the troublemaking sort.
Cooper lets out a small huff, half smirking at her, when he sees that sharp gaze narrow slightly at him. Perhaps she isn’t completely stupid.
“They also ain’t too fond of ghouls, so maybe we should throw a bag over that mess,” Roachie says, waving in Cooper’s general direction.
The ghoul shoots Roachie a cold look, that smirk never faltering. Cass almost rolls her eyes.
“Roachie, play nice,” she tells him.
The man doesn’t say another word, but he grins at the ghoul wickedly. The two of them stare one another down for a long time. Cass just lets out an exasperated sigh and looks to Lucy.
“Come on. Maybe if we keep walking, they’ll follow.” She flashes a cheeky smile at the vault dweller.
Lucy seems to return the smile a little and nods, tailing close to Cass as she heads inside Waypoint. As the two pass under the archway, Cooper and Roachie reluctantly tear their gazes away and slowly follow after them.
The settlement is a half-crumbling shanty town. A fence made out of pieces of metal siding encircles the entire space, no larger than a quarter of a block. There are a total of four buildings in the entire place. Two of the buildings sit to the left of the settlement center, the other two sit to the right. One of the buildings is a trading post, while the one across from it looks like a general store. Both feature a whole host of different things- weapons, books, provisions- likely all gotten through nefarious means. The smallest building appears to be a saloon. The largest, and the only two-story building of the four, is a ramshackle inn.
At the center of the settlement stands an old, stone fountain. The stone is cracked in several places and covered with grime. No water flows and likely hasn’t since before the Great War. Clustered around the inside of the fountain’s pool are piles of…junk.
Cooper can’t help but tilt his head, knitting his brow, as Cass leads them right up to that fountain. Roachie finally leaves the ghoul’s side, stepping up to it. He digs into his jacket pocket, fishing out a button, marbled with brown and black. He tosses it into the fountain. The button clatters as it lands amongst the other pieces of junk. Roachie returns to the ghoul’s side again, and when he gives the courier a look, the courier just scowls at him.
Cooper looks back in time to see Cass pinching what appears to be a small, ivory figurine between her slender fingers. The carved trinket looks familiar to him, and as she holds it up, he realizes that it is a chess piece. The small crown at its top marks it as the queen. He watches with slightly wide eyes as she tosses it into the fountain. It disappears in the piles of junk, the ghoul watching closely to where it lands. His gaze shifts back to where Cass is still staring down into the fountain. For a moment, she doesn’t move. She just stares at where that chess piece disappeared. He swears he can see her shoulders slump a little. Then, she takes in a deep breath and looks over her shoulder at them.
“A tradition for those who come through here a lot. We offer up a small piece of ourselves at the beginning of any journey. S’posed to bring good luck,” she explains with a wistful smile.
Cooper wonders how many pieces of hers are lying in that fountain now.
Lucy’s gaze goes to the piles of junk, given up freely by those who passed through here over the years.
“It’s like a wishing fountain.”
Her voice is so quiet that her words might have even gone unnoticed, but Cass’s smile widens ever so slightly.
“Yeah, it kind of is,” she agrees with a small nod, her gaze returning to the fountain.
They go quiet, and there’s a brief pause as they all behold the wishing fountain. Then, without a word, Lucy reaches up and undoes the tie around her ponytail. As her hair tumbles down around her shoulders, she steps forward and tosses the hair tie into the fountain. Cass glances over at the girl and clasps her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. They share a smile, and then the girl turns to look at the ghoul. She appears to be waiting for him to do the same.
He narrows his eyes as he scoffs, “Don’t be expectin’ me to entertain that bullsh*t.”
“But-”
He cuts her off, holding up a gloved hand, “I ain’t puttin’ nothin’ of mine in there, sweetheart, so let it go.”
She looks a bit disappointed at his reluctance, but she doesn’t push it. She just clenches her jaw and turns away from him. Cass passes a quick glance between them.
“It’s okay,” she says with a shrug, “Not everyone does it. Like I said, it’s just a tradition. Nothing more.”
Then, without another word, she steps around the fountain and heads for the inn. The humble establishment sits across from the saloon, an easy trip for any stumbling drunkard to a room for the night. As they make their way across the settlement, people watch them closely. Heads peek from around doors and faces press up against dirty windows. Many milling about the saloon turn as they pass, eyes drifting over the group until they snag on the ghoul.
Those gazes seem to darken, sneers playing on faces, hands going to weapons. Cooper doesn’t miss this as Cass leads them up the front steps and into the inn. He was already on edge the moment they had passed through the archway, now he is on full alert. Most folks didn’t like ghouls, so the looks were nothing new, but he doesn’t really need anyone starting a fight. He just wants to get inside so he can finally take some chems. The last thing he wants is to have to shoot up this settlement.
As they push through the swinging doors, the inn seems to fall silent. A few tables are set up around the room, scattered in front of the bar at the back serving as a reception desk. There are only a few people sitting at the tables inside, but they all seem to snap to attention as Cass enters. Cooper watches as the men’s gazes linger, moving hungrily over her. She doesn’t seem to care, or just doesn’t notice, as she weaves between the tables, Lucy following close behind. Those lewd gazes trail after the two of them. Roachie enters the inn first, finally conceding to the ghoul on the matter of who will take rear. Cooper slowly walks behind him, making sure to meet the gazes of all those men. Lust turns to disgust very quickly as they get a look at the scarred, radiation-fried face beneath the hat. One of the men spits at his boots as he passes by, missing them by an inch. He bares his teeth at him in a challenging sneer as he continues on. Dogmeat at his side even lets out a soft warning growl. The man turns, but he keeps those hateful eyes on the ghoul.
Cass comes to a stop at the bar where an old woman, likely the innkeeper, has appeared from some back room. The innkeeper would be relatively inconspicuous, frail even, if she wasn’t missing an eye, choosing to leave it uncovered rather than put a patch over the empty socket. The ghoul can’t help but look at it as she looks up at Cass. The old woman is a good deal shorter than the courier, lending to the image of frailty. However, Cooper doesn’t believe for a second that this old woman won’t be the first to shoot at the very first sign of any trouble.
“Haven’t seen ya in a while. Thought you was dead,” the innkeeper says in a thick accent. Her bottom lip juts out with every word.
At her words, the rest of the inn's patrons resume their conversations, albeit voices lower than before. Damned snoops.
Cass grins at the old woman. “Death pardoned me a long time ago. Good to see you again, Marge.”
Marge snorts at this. “Pardoned, huh?”
She looks at Roachie and greets him with a jut of her chin. He returns the gesture with a small grunt. That seems to be the end of their interaction as the innkeeper shifts her focus to Lucy. Her one eye narrows a little at the suit.
“Vault dweller, huh? Bit far from home.”
Lucy smiles weakly. “Yeah…uh, very far.” She stumbles through the words, unsure of what to really say.
The woman doesn’t pay her any more attention as she finally looks to where Cooper stands behind Lucy. That one good eye goes wide at the sight of him. She gapes at the ghoul before turning a furious look on Cass.
“What the f*ck are ya doin’ bringin’ one of those in here? I oughtta shoot you, girl,” the old woman hisses through rotting teeth.
Cass’s smile vanishes. Her green eyes darken a little as her expression hardens, turning to stone. Cooper watches her, watches the change in her with a morbid curiosity. It’s the first time he’s seen such a look on her, and he finds himself a bit fascinated by her reaction. He didn’t even get that reaction when he was threatening her. The idea of finally seeing what might lie beneath that perfect f*cking smile is a tantalizing thought.
“Refer to him like that again, and you’re going to wish you had.” Cass’s voice is low, filled with warning and deadly promise.
The ghoul feels a little taken off guard by her words. Thinking back on it, he recalls her question to the dying raider earlier in the day: What’s wrong with ghouls? She also spent most of the time traveling to Waypoint scolding and chiding her companion for being discriminatory toward Cooper. He had thought she was just trying to keep the peace, but a thought occurs to him as she faces down the old innkeeper. Perhaps the courier is trying to earn favor with him for whatever reason. Or, perhaps she really has a soft spot for ghouls, or at least is willing to defend them. Even still, her moral compass must be all kinds of f*cked if she's willing to stand up for him and threaten an old lady in the same sentence. He can't help but be a little amused.
Marge’s slack-jawed expression is mirrored by Roachie and Lucy. They all seem to gape a little at Cass.
“What d’ya say?” the innkeeper’s voice is deathly quiet.
Cass stares at her for a moment with that dark expression before a smile spreads across her face again. There’s not a flicker of warmth there now. She chuckles a little. “Lighten up, Marge. Just think you should be a bit more respectful, is all.”
She is playing it off as if it is a joke, but Cooper can still see that violent spark in those green eyes. That smile seems to hide a decent amount, and it is disarming enough that most people probably believe it, Lucy and Marge included. Roachie has regained a bit of that stone-cold composure, but he eyes Cass carefully. It is his reaction that makes Cooper suspect there is more to Cass than meets the eye.
Marge doesn’t return the smile, but she doesn’t pull a gun on them either.
“Fine,” she grumbles, brushing past Cass’s threat, and points to the ghoul. “But ghouls ain’t welcome in my inn.”
Cass leans forward on the bar a little. “Come on, Marge. We just need a night. I promise he won’t be any trouble.”
Marge’s hand drops slowly as she looks the ghoul up and down with a suspicious gaze. Cooper’s mouth quirks up at one side as she assesses him. The silence is tense between them as the innkeeper grinds her rotting teeth together. After a moment, she lets out an exasperated sigh. She turns back to Cass with a deep frown.
“If you’re willin’ to vouch for the ghoul, then fine, but it’s gonna be double the rate,” she concedes.
Cooper had expected more of a fight, but it seems the innkeeper trusts Cass enough. He wonders just how long they have known each other.
Roachie finally speaks up, looking annoyed, “Double? That’s ridiculous.”
Marge shoots him an annoyed look of her own, but before they can get into it, Cass is digging into her jacket pocket. She pulls out a small pouch and tosses it onto the bar between them. The familiar clinking of caps seems to echo through the room. Marge’s one good eye goes a little wide at the densely packed pouch.
“Two rooms, Marge.”
The innkeeper greedily snatches up the pouch, practically drooling over the thought of all those caps. It disappears beneath the bar, and two rusty keys take its place.
“Two rooms for one night,” the old woman agrees.
The innkeeper slides the keys toward Cass who promptly plucks them from the bartop. Marge’s hand snatches her wrist, narrowing that good eye on the courier.
“It don’t leave the room. Understand, girl?”
The innkeeper’s subtlety should be commended, Cooper thinks bitterly.
Cass smiles, saccharine sweet, but it doesn’t touch her eyes. She wrenches free of the old woman’s grasp and says, “Don’t worry, Marge. He won’t.”
Cooper doesn’t miss the emphasis on the word. The significance behind it isn’t lost on him either. Cass definitely takes a stance that most would kill her for, but she doesn’t seem to mind doing it again and again. Roachie, on the other hand, has made it perfectly clear he doesn’t agree with his companion’s values. However, he doesn’t seem to argue with her much about it. In fact, he seems willing to bend to those values every so often, even to go so far as to take a job protecting a f*cking ghoul.
He watches Cass curiously as she steps away from the bar and heads for the rickety stairs to their left. Roachie mumbles a thank you to Marge before following after her, Lucy close behind. Cooper smirks at Marge as he saunters away, Dogmeat keeping close to him. The innkeeper sneers as she pulls out the pouch again.
“That mutt better not sh*t up the place.”
He turns away without a word as she grumbles and begins to count the caps.
The rooms are dingy and small. The only things inside are a single bed, a table and chair set, and a lantern. One grimy window lets in what little moonlight there is tonight. The table and chair look as if they might collapse at a small breeze, but the bed appears sturdy enough. The ghoul isn’t concerned with the number of beds. He isn’t planning on getting much rest here, anyway. The two rooms are next to each other, no chance of easily sneaking out without the others hearing, especially with how badly the floors creak. Besides, the woman has half his caps still tucked away somewhere in her jacket. He’d like those back before he decides to split with the girl.
Lucy and Cooper decide to take one room, while Roachie and Cass take the neighboring one.
Roachie gives him a warning with a sharp glare before entering the room, “Cass stuck her neck out for ya tonight, so don’t be runnin’ ‘round, ghoul.”
Cooper smirks at the man. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
The man just turns and steps into the room without another word. Cass pauses on the threshold before meeting Cooper’s gaze. He can’t help but take a moment to look over that face. A portrait of feminine beauty if he ever saw one, but pretty wrappings have a habit of hiding danger. After all, some of the most deadly things in nature are beautiful. Given that dark look she had on her face when dealing with Marge, Cooper begins to suspect that Cass’s beauty might just be hiding something very ugly beneath the surface.
“We’ll be heading out at first light. Best to get going early to avoid the hottest parts of the day. Plan to not rest until around the afternoon,” she says. Then, with a smile, she adds, “Goodnight, cowboy. Don’t let the rad roaches bite.”
She winks at him and then disappears into the room. When their door clicks shut, he steps into his own room. Lucy is already inside, staring at the single bed against the one wall. The dog has already taken up a spot beneath the window, curling up on the hardwood floor. The girl turns when the door shuts and the lock clicks into place. There’s an uncomfortable expression on her face.
“There’s only one bed,” she states, shifting on her feet.
Cooper ignores her at first, heading for the chair. He decides to test out if it can hold any weight. It does. He eases down into it, stretching his legs out in front him. He tosses his saddlebag onto the table and fishes out his inhaler. Fitting a vial into it, the ghoul takes a long drag. The vial empties completely as he breathes in deep. As he pulls the inhaler away, he can feel the chems easing his nerves and calming his mind. The inhaler slips back into the saddlebag as he settles in the chair.
“You take the bed. I’m good right here,” he finally says.
Lowering his hat to cover more of his eyes, he lets out a sigh. He can feel Lucy’s gaze still on him, almost burning two little holes into him. Lifting his head a little, he gives her a slightly annoyed look.
“I’m fine, vaultie. Now get in that bed before I throw you into it,” he says with a hint of a snarl.
Her brows twitch lower over those doe eyes. “Does everyone up here…hate ghouls?”
The question seems to come out of nowhere, and he feels a twinge of irritation.
With a small shrug, he answers it, indulging her a little, “Most of ‘em.”
She falls quiet at this, growing contemplative. He lowers his head again, conversation seemingly over. Resting his chin on his chest, he closes his eyes. He hears her shuffle a bit as she takes off her boots. The room seems to grow darker around him as she extinguishes the lantern. The sound of rusty bed springs creaking tells him she finally laid down. It is quiet in the room for a long time, and the ghoul thinks she’s fallen asleep. Then, her voice, low and thoughtful, cuts through the silence.
“Cass doesn’t.”
The words strike a chord in him. Cooper is inclined to agree, but he’s seen people do all kinds of f*cked up things to just survive. Perhaps Cass really doesn’t hate ghouls, but there is an equal chance that she is just pretending to get on his good side. Earn his favor and she might be able to manipulate him.
He doesn’t say anything back to Lucy. He just makes a small grunt of acknowledgement before allowing the silence to flood the room again. After a while, the ghoul can hear her even breathing as she finally falls asleep. He opens his eyes and lets them adjust a little to the dark before slowly reaching up to the bandolier across his chest. Cooper slips one of the modified bullets from the leather and turns it over in his gloved fingers.
Perhaps she really does hate ghouls, he thinks, but the fact remains, she was willing to threaten someone because they had spoken poorly to him. She had even put her reputation on the line for him, some ghoul she doesn’t even know. That’s more than anyone has ever done for him in a long time, longer than Cooper can even remember.
His fist closes tightly around the bullet.
Cass let Roachie sleep first. They had agreed to take shifts in order to make sure their new clients didn’t pull anything. Roachie had insisted, Cass had reluctantly agreed. Now, he is sprawled out on the bed as she leans against the window frame, peering out of the dirty glass. The moon is partially covered in clouds tonight, but enough moonlight filters through to illuminate Waypoint in soft, silvery light. Their rooms are two of the four that face out onto the settlement’s center. From here, she can see the old fountain.
Her mind drifts to the chess piece she had reluctantly given up today. She is running out of parts of hers to give up, and she feels a twinge of regret giving up the queen today. She thinks about the last remaining piece in her pack: the king, painted a dark onyx. If it comes down to it, she’ll just toss in a cap instead of the king on her next trek through here. She won’t give up that last remaining piece. After all, to lose the king is to lose the game.
When Lucy had given up something of hers, Cass was touched. She hadn’t been surprised the ghoul had refused to partake, but she had been a bit disappointed he hadn’t even given it a second thought. She wonders if that hardened exterior hides anything, or if he is just cold marble all the way through.
Roachie had given her an earful for defending the ghoul earlier. He felt that it wasn’t worth the caps or the tension, but Cass didn’t agree. She still doesn’t agree. She won’t ever treat someone differently, especially a ghoul. She had always judged more on character than anything else, and she reminded him of that when he had brought up the ghoul in the first place. Roachie hadn’t argued after that, letting the subject drop. At least for now.
Cass lets out a small sigh, folding her arms over her chest. There aren’t many people out and about tonight. Many of the men and women traveling through are either tucked away in the inn or drinking themselves silly in the saloon. Perhaps that’s why the shadowy figure catches her eye. The person doesn’t stumble or falter, unlike many of the drunks she’s watched make their way to the inn in the last thirty minutes. In fact, the figure moves with ease through the dark, the confident gait of someone who has likely spent many nights slinking around. She follows the figure with her gaze to where they stop beside the fountain. Clouds shift and moonlight spears across the settlement’s center. In the ghostly light, she can make out that cowboy hat and tattered coat. The ghoul.
How the hell had he slipped out without her hearing? Either she had been that lost in her thoughts, or he is that damned good at being stealthy.
She narrows her eyes, trying to work out what he is doing. For a moment, she thinks she should go and make him come back to the inn. If Marge were to see him out, then Cass will have a much bigger problem on her hands. However, she cannot help but stand still at the window, watching as he turns something over in his gloved hand. Curiosity keeps her rooted in place.
The item glints in the moonlight as he looks down at it in his palm. Cass’s gaze is glued to him as he gently tosses the object into the fountain. It disappears amongst all of the other offerings. For a long moment, the ghoul stands there, staring into the fountain. Then, he turns and makes his way back to the inn, that gait easy and casual. The courier watches him until he is out of sight. Shock seems to hold her in place as her mind tries to work through what she has just seen.
Slowly, Cass leans away from the window. A part of himself, given freely. In the darkness of the room, a small smile plays on her lips.
