Fallout 1. Epilogue: The Beginning of the End

**Treat**

**By: Zephyr Chandni**

I've never known sun on my skin… only the fluorescent bright bulbs down in the cold, tyrannical Vault. Everything there was metal, or plastic, the few bits of life hidden away from curious eyes. No real food: Pastes and cakes, spam and non perishables. After a few hundred years, I suppose people got used to no hope. "We are born in the Vault, we live in the Vault, and we die in the Vault." what a contradiction that was….

I leaned to the right, stretching my aching body, events of the past gathering like a swarm of angry (And unwanted) locusts, clouding out the reality of the situation I truly was in. I was outside… I could die. But…

Dad was gone.

Jonas was dead.

And the overseer?

One very pissed off man.

I couldn't go back home… the door was sealed shut. Not that I had wanted to, my father was the one thing that meant the most to me in my life… and he was gone. Gone where? I won't know until I find him again…

Angry tears cascaded down her cheeks as she sat, hard, on the packed dirt overlooking the cliff. "Daddy…. Why did you go? Why did you leave me? What did I do?" The sobs echoed around her, bouncing off the rock, seemingly mocking her own state of post- trauma of the events that led her to the predicament she was in now. "Daddy!..." For minutes at a time, the vaultie sat, sobbing, slightly rocking her body back and forth, before realization hit.

She had to fight to stay alive, she had to SURVIVE. Hadn't she brought some things with her, when she was fleeing from the security? Wasn't she smarter than that? It was no secret that the outer world was torn apart, a hell to be reckoned with. Of course, it was one of the statements the overseer used to instigate fear within the youth. No one knew what was out there, but they sure as hell understood it wasn't the homeland taught in history class.

She drew in a shaky breath, trying to steel her nerves, and dug around in her pockets.

A few stimpacks, a blood pack, one grognak the barbarian graphic novel and a few magazines of bullets were all that she found. Strapped to her back and holstered to her sides were her BB gun, a 10 mm pistol, and a police baton (two of which she pilfered from the bodies of security guards) . The slightly torn security uniform was the only clothing she had.

'_Well, shit_.'

Getting up was hard, the burden of her heavy heart and over used muscles wearing her down. Whimpering slightly before taking in a deep breath, she held back all emotion, which she determined as 'useless', considering the state she was now in, the look of impassiveness etched on her pale face. Deep red hair swayed in the acrid sulfur smelling wind, obscuring her view of the landscape as she surveyed the area with glistening emerald and violet eyes.

Rocks, dead trees, cracked pavement and dilapidated homes scattered the horizon, unsurprising seeing as the nuclear holocaust ravaged the land she once knew as America. She shivered, an unexpected wave of emotion slowly spreading through her veins like poison. The vaultie choked on a sob, the desolate scene a heavy reminder of loved ones lost…

But she couldn't let these thoughts cloud her judgment; she would grieve later, yes, but not now. It was a cruel world, and she was young and naïve. She needed to be alive to find her father, of course, and nothing was going to stop her now, not after coming so far.

It wasn't as if she could turn back, anyways.

She clambered down the Cliff-side, clumsily, her boots more used to the smoothness of the metal floors of Vault 101, her previous home. Occasionally, she slipped and fell on her ass, the BB gun digging into her back, followed by a loud and unnecessary curse. She was going to be well bruised and beaten up before she could find shelter, this, she knew.

"Ha, if I ever live to FIND shelter…" She mocked herself, a sarcastic smile hiding the pain and fear buried beneath bone and tissue in her chest. 'I miss him so much, already…' she thought, but refused to let the tears drop from her long lashes. Continuing her walk, she stumbled upon a small abandoned residence, but to her far left, a large, twisted heap of metal stood, the last rays of sun glinting off sheets welded together. Out of shape, and out of time, this, she knew. Wandering the landscape of the old town, shuffling weakly towards the heap of metal, the redheaded young adult shuddered again from the hollow feeling creeping up her spine, imagining the few minutes it took to vaporize these houses, along with the residents inside. She kicked a rusted can along, labeled _**'Pork 'n Beans'**_ in faded lettering, trying to keep her mind off of the re-occurring thoughts plaguing her mind. The can only bounced off the burnt ash fault a few times before ending with a "Clink" on the familiar metal on metal sound. Frowning, and dragging her sorrow filled face from the ground, green and purple eyes met the large object that stopped her make-shift soccer ball from continuing its journey. Closer inspection revealed it to be a Nuka cola machine. '_Way-hey-hey-hait…. Nuka... COLA?_'

Suddenly remembering that, Of course, humans need water to survive, she smacked her dry lips thirstily and dashed towards the vendor, before realizing that one needed, indeed, pre-war money to activate the machine.

"shit." She muttered quietly, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. "How the fuck am I going to open you, my red-painted fiend?"

After a minute of silence, she narrowed her eyes, a small, sadistic smile forming on her pale-dry lips. She reached for the police baton that hanged uselessly at her side, grasping it, and took a few steps back… aiming her hit towards the lifeless vending machine.

She swung as hard and fast as she could! Although the baton was short, it at least was a little heavy. She swung again, and again, large dents covering the sheet metal, but no soda popped out. Sighing in defeat, with the last of her strength used, she leaned against the machine, spent.

"You've won this round…. " She mumbled angrily, but too tired to really care. In one last act of defiance, she elbowed the machine softly, a gentle thud emanating from the surrounding buildings and making the sound louder then what it really was. The machine whirred, the last remnants of electric power buzzing through its system, and a cola bounced out, before the lights illuminating the Nuka Cola sign slowly faded again. 101 stared, dumbfounded, and laughed, half crying, picking up the flat cola. She unscrewed the bottle cap, putting it in her pocket (A souvenir of her triumph!) and took a long swig of the slightly warm, and flat, concoction.

Grinning ear to ear, she savored the taste, before exclaiming in a cracking, tired voice, "OH MY GOD! It's like an orgy in my mouth!" It was the sweetest tasting beverage she ever had the pleasure of drinking, in all her life. Even though she had Nuka Cola's back in the vault, the wonders of stress and dehydration did something to your mind. Finishing the rest of the drink, she lamely got up, the sky washed with bright colors in the setting sun. Judging by the amount of light left, she assumed she had 15 minutes before lights out, and all warmth she felt would be gone… not to mention lord-knows-what crawls out of the cracks of the earth and swallows her whole. Admittedly, she knew she wasted her time by beating up the Nuka Cola machine, but she wasn't in a very great state of mind in the first place… it seems like the better part of her rationality left her.

Her feet crunched on the gravel, salvaging a few houses, finding bobby pins, letters, cherry bombs, and a Salisbury steak (Which she wrinkled her nose in disgust at… 200 year old steak, yum.) before heading in the direction of the tangled mass of iron, passing by a small floating robot head. It was spewing, by the sounds of it, propaganda, so she paid not much mind at it. It wasn't bothering her and she didn't have much skill to bother with it. At least that was a sign of some form of humanity had survived… she had hoped.

She headed further down the road, the little robot lazily following her. Getting a bit weirded out, she started to quicken her pace, before stopping... and listening to a distant buzzing sound get louder and louder. "Oh… sick… is that a fly?" a large, mutated horse fly hummed in the air, its abdomen swollen. It looked to be flying towards her, but not before stopping a distance, and started to shoot what appeared to be stingers directly at her. "THE SHIT!" she exclaimed, pulling her pistol from her side and aiming at it, steadily. She narrowly dodged the stingers, sidestepping. A look of utter repulsion was on her beautiful features, her small nose crinkled up with her brow in thin lines. Her lips turned into a large, comical frown, and pulled the trigger….

Missing.

Before she had time to react by shooting the hell fly again, a laser zapped the thing right out of mid air. It was the floating robot, which had promptly turned around and kept talking about the "enclave" and "presidents" and "returning the land to which it once was" while puttering down one of the town lanes, disappearing from sight. The Vault princess barely had time to thank the little guy, but called after it anyway.

The red head's face did not change back into its more relaxed state, still highly disturbed from earlier (That, and the amounting stress), and she began jogging towards the heap again, (not wanting to visit the Desolate Waist lands' inhuman habitants) passing a town sign named "Megaton". '_I gotta hurry and find shelter, I'm definitely not gonna survive the night and I need to figure out my stuff first…_'

Moaning, she put the gun away, walking up to the large metal doors. So, she figured luck was by her side as they began to groan and grind open, a large jet engine helping to open the mechanical door. Realizing that it was probably a settlement, her expression went to vaguely annoyed and disgusted to one of wonder. A protectron waved her threw, its robotic voice giving her a warm welcome with a hint of a western accent. She stared oddly at the robot before heading inside.

She stopped, staring at the belly of the civilization. Awed, and definitely and dumbstruck.

Inside the community was… a large, undetonated bomb.

Under her breath, gaze still locked with the dangerous threat, she muttered, "Are these people stupid?"

"Yes, well, not all of them. And these are my people."

Startled out of her stupor, she glanced to the side of her, where a tall, African American man with a cowboy hat and a long dusty coat stood, slightly bemused at her expression.

Holding out his weathered hand, he watched her carefully. "Welcome to Megaton, I'm Lucas Simms; you must be new here…" He glanced down from her embarrassed and blushing face, looking at the uniform she was wearing. It definitely wasn't from around here on the surface, and it seemed to be from one of the local vaults. He didn't even know there were still people living down there.

101 only nodded, grasping his hand in a weak grip, waves of fatigue taking her mind and body as one of her goals was complete, a small amount of relief releasing her clenched muscles. She needed to sleep, she needed to relax…

"The names Gale." She locked eyes with his, a look of passive innocents upon her. "So, Mr. Simms… I was wondering where I could take a rest." Gail decided she would ask questions later, on the where-about's of her father. The Lone wanderer sighed sadly, the heavy heart beating inside gained a few more pounds…

Seeing her now downcast eyes, Simms let go of Gale's slender hand and took a step backwards, lost in thought. He didn't bother to tell her his usual warning of "These are my people. This is my town. You so much as breathe wrong and I'm gonna fuckin' end ya." Speech, he knew she wouldn't be of any trouble. She looked so lost and out of place, he felt sorry for her. The oddly mismatched eyes seemed wet with grief and intelligence, a deep understanding pooling in their irises. '_Poor little vault princess…_'

"The common house, over there," He lifted up a hand and pointed at a fairly large metal house, on the edge of the crater, "should have a few extra beds. You can sleep there, free of charge. Food and drink are rationed. The toilets are over there" he pointed slightly to the left, where a small shack sat on top of more large sheets of rusting… what appeared to be, Air craft carrier, in the midst of even more buildings. "Stay away from Moriarty's, the man has one foot in his ass and one ear in everyone's business." Gale easily found the saloon, drunkards hanging outside, having a smoke. She growled in slight disgust, she hated drunks. Or maybe that was the Vault side of her…

After a few more minutes of explaining the town, Gale nodded, and departed with a quiet and thoughtful thank you. She entered the common house, passing by people who stared at her, and a cow with two heads. Thankfully, the cow didn't stare, she already felt on the spot enough. She paused, slowly turning the knob, half expecting someone to come out flailing with a knife in hand, trying to stab her… but as she pushed on the door, the hinges creaked.. And she found the house vacant of people. ||AN: Just kidding, there was actually a homicidal maniac inside. They got married. The end… or not… rather short story that would be. And no sex scene? Gay.|| Flopping on an old, stained mattress, she carefully put her boots and side-arms under the bed. The police baton she had at her side, she put under her pillow, just in case anyone tried to steal anything. A tear dropped from her emerald eye, staying on the dirty pillow before disappearing into the weathered fabric. Gale pulled up the thin sheets, falling into a fitful sleep. Tomorrow was going to be just a little harder, as would the next day. She could deal, she had to. And in some fucked up way, this…

This was a treat.

* * *

**_AN: So, how was the first chapter? Pretty slow, right? It has to be, it needs to gain momentum :P Just like a train. A TRAIN DAMMIT. THINK OF THE MOTHER FUCKING TRAINS! THEY NEED LOVING TOO! *ahem* Uh. Mm.. So.. yeah._**

**_First story I've done in, what, about 3 years? At least my writings skills have improved on their own.._**

**Sort of.**

**_R&R.__ Bring on the flames. They will probably be ignored but argued over. This story will be updated every: WEEK! So every Monday. But for the first few chapters (Up to chapter 5) it will be a little faster then that. So don't get overly excited._**

**_Question: When will Charon meet Gale?_**

**_Answer: Have you done your homework? (lol jk, probably in the next few chapts. Hold your panties.)_**

**_The homicidal maniac, was, in-fact, a reference to J:THM__. I love the blade happy bastard too. _**

**_Gale, it turns out, was listed as one of the highest ranking girl names in the 1950's.__ I did the research before even STARTING this story. Just a little tidbit if you're wondering why I named her after wind._**

**_Megaton's common house cannot actually house you__. All the beds are owned, but you can pick up anything in there without a karma loss or gain. It's the only one that won't, but this is made up for the house you get for fixing the bomb (or, you know, detonating it, but you still get a place to live in the end.)_**

**R&R.**


	2. Chapter 1: Tattle Tails Sing in Brail

**Chapter 1: Tattle Tails Sing in Brail**

_"You see things; and you say, 'Why?' But I dream things that never were; and I say, 'Why not?'" - George Bernard Shaw_

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* * *

**

"I'll rip you apart!" "AAaagh!"

_Ahh. _Soft air escaped parted lips in the heat of battle, sweet, seductive, and the breath of a killer. _I love a good slaughtering in the morning._ Gale unloaded another spray of bullets from her mini gun, the heavy object held with precision and elegance the way only she, humanity's last hope, could hold. Flashes of gunfire lit her face up in breaks, insanity locked onto her bold features. If any were to stumble upon this truly gruesome moment, they would have been awe struck. Smooth, pale skin pulled over taught muscles, pronounced cheekbones and plump full lips snarling with animalistic might. Loose red hair clung to her sweaty forehead, swaying with each backfire of the brutish gun she held. She was death poised, perfected, and personified.

Gushing chunks of super mutant fell to the barren, thirsty earth, blood spattering the area. She decided she liked the heavy scent of iron, it calmed her over-working mind. Well, as much as her mind could be calmed, in any way. A twinge of guilt still surfaced when she cut the thread of life, but it never lasted long and it never haunted her more than it needed to. Gale had much more important things to take care of; and one of those things was to collect irradiated Nuka Cola with isotopes in them. She was looking for, of course, the glowing... infamous... Quantum beverage. Pristine, thirst quenching, and it made urine glow blue.

The fiery goddess never understood why she did these silly quests; perhaps she was just procrastinating in finding her father. Perhaps she was afraid. Perhaps she was a lot of things. But this never stopped her from doing the voyage she needed so desperately to finish. Gale quietly assumed, or rather, assured herself that this was more a part of her OCD like mentality. When she was given a small, menial task, she liked to finish them in the same way that they were presented to her.

Shrugging her pack, 101 kneeled to where her newest victim was. Three Dog was ranting on about her, again, and she smiled grimly, the man must have a boner for her or _something_. The radio on her Pip-Boy quietly purred like a loyal cat, the only other companion she had in this lonely, desolate land. Switching the contraption off, she wondered idly why she left it on during fights. Gale hadn't gotten used to her fame, even though it had been months since the blanched vault girl herself had crawled out from the bowels of the Wasteland to try and find her father. After asking the crime boss, Moriarty and going on a short goose chase, she ended it with Rivet City and a startling revelation. Gale was just so tired, and, after barely missing her father yet again, decided she needed a break. The beautiful woman felt that in her gut, she would never be truly with her dad. But the hiatus on her search for her parent and inner dysphoria did not mean she was to sit at home, oh no. In the mean time, she wanted to explore. The Lone wanderer stuck true to her name and her nature.

Riffling through the mutants gorrish remains, the killer found what she had hoped he was carrying. Gale wiped bloodied chunks off of the glowing bottle, turning it over with delicate fingers. It hadn't cracked from the bullets, which was good, she decided. _Less work and more money for me. _

After pillaging the remains of the super mutant brute for any more Easter eggs and stuffing each item carefully into the cramped pack, Gale stood and surveyed the land before her. Stained hands on her hips, she breathed, taking in the arid metropolis in the pale moons' glow. The big cheese reflected lifelessly and barren on broken glass and twisted metal in the capital city, offering minimal and mysterious lighting to the already somber mood. Most of the enormous buildings and landmarks had fallen in on themselves from the times the bomb hit, making some of the more important routes impassable. Cracked and burnt cement and asphalt were all that remained of the paved streets, a sullen reminder of the destructive nature of wars.

_Humanity is doomed to forever fight with itself. _And as if to answer to her reminiscing, a quiet and chilling breeze softly whistled through the dilapidated street, a hauntingly beautiful sound.

Continuing on her journey, she never looked back at the desecrated mutant body she left in the open. Not once, even as the Radroaches skittered noisily to their newest meal of the hour.

She knew that some wonderful day, that same fate would befall her.

* * *

The wanderer's estranged shadow fell in stride with the embodied flesh of death, red hair flailing uselessly in the building zephyr that encompassed the slumbering city. The mysterious woman walked aimlessly down streets, exploring the crumbling edifices that she stumbled upon. Occasionally, fights would break the silence, shouts of promised death and gurgled screams reverberating across the urban setting. Usually, the raiders and super mutants were dispatched easily, as Gales arsenal of weapons was vast and the numerous magazines she found lying hidden helped in her genocide of all evil.

Shoving a knife in a male raider's chest for good measure, his dying laugh ended the moment he hit the dusty floor of the lobby of the decaying building she had recently explored, a pang of regret gently throbbed her heart. Sometimes the Vaultie really wished these raiders left people alone and gave up. But that would be like asking for the wasteland to grow back its lost flora. She did a quick body check while listening to her surroundings, and a small smile crept across her lips when the aroma of vital fluids filled her nostrils.

**Blood.**

She didn't understand why she liked the smell so much. _Much to my surprise. Who even understands the more carnal aspect of the soul anyway? _She examined the coppery substance from the dead raider between her fingers, bringing it near to her bi-coloured eyes for close observation. It really shouldn't be this appealing, she surmised. But she loved it. She loved the way it squirted out of her victims' bodies. She loved the way their bones crunched under her boot. Gale absolutely adored carnage. But she loathed herself even more so for enjoying that sick pleasure.

Gales' eyes unfocused and sharply darted around, trying to pin-point the muffled sound of feet scrapping across tiled floor. Her body tensed, and a long arm grasped her bag, pulling it towards her center of gravity, reaching for extra cells for the Gauge riffle strapped on her back. The wanderers' mini had run out a while back a few blocks away, after going trigger crazy on a super mutant master, matching the beasts own weapon. Truly, it wasn't one of her most intelligent of moves.

The sniffing and shuffling became louder and louder, a perfect reflection to the mysterious woman's' heart beat. Grasping her weapon of choice and crouching low, she steadied herself, aiming for the hallway across from her being. The shuffling stopped. Darkness. Silence. Relief.

A scream erupted behind her... and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

* * *

Charon winced. The female ghouls' scream grated on more than just his eardrums. How he wished he were somewhere else. The tall un-dead being slid his vision across the occupied room, smoke curling towards the cracked ceiling as the usual bar patrons howled with laughter at their fellow comrade's blood curtailing yelp. It appears that the prank was successful.

_Fuck._

He slouched slightly in his position against the wall, angry with his daily routine. Every day was a living hell.

He was a robot: programmed and functioned like a fucking robot. He served whoever held his contract, and he loathed the ghoul who held it now: Ahzrukhal. The fucking slimiest piece of shit he had ever had the misfortune of knowing. The man prided himself in getting people drugged up, just so that he can make a fast buck selling any of his "Wares". _Like it was hard to do in this place_. _Look at us. _He silently fumed. _We have nothing to look forward to. Getting drugged up is the only illusion to time, for us. For our wretched decaying bodies._

He was different than them, though. They had pasts. They had something to hold on to. They had each other, and he had himself and a piece of paper that was his impending doom. He could barely remember his past. No happiness. No laughter. Just that piece of paper and brainwashing words. Words that crippled his resolve, words that broke him long ago into a mouldable piece of flesh, words that made him bend to the will of any sadistic fuck out there. And he was powerless against it all.

That torn piece of parchment was his honour, his connection to this world.

"CHARON! You fucking worthless zombie!" Charon was shook inwardly from his stupor, his milky blue eyes turning to his 'Employer', uncrossing his arms and clenching his fists. Ahzrukhal shook his head as the corner of his lips tugged into a crooked grin, and Charon felt his skin crawl, or what was left of it, anyway. "I have a job for you..."

He loathed that man. The day that he was free of his grasp, was the day he murders that son-of-a-bitch.

* * *

Gale rolled to the immediate right, dodging a blow from the feral reaver. _Yes, isn't it my luck that I also find zombies here. I just wanted some glowing pop..._

She hopped to her feet, adrenaline working overtime in her system, the other feral ghoul panting as it ran towards her being. She grappled the ghouls' arm, spinning the enemy's body into the other and sent the two flying into the wall. It was just enough time for Gale to swiftly unload her gun again and shove another energy cell into the empty cartilage, but not before she was able to unload another powerful shot onto the emaciated bodies of the ghouls now running at her again did she realise her fatal mistake.

The gun was jammed.

"**AH FUCK**!" She yelled angrily, manoeuvring the butt of the gun to swiftly hit the feral underneath its jaw, causing it to fall back limply on the ground. A heavy boot connected with the ghoul's spine, affectively immobilising and killing the beast. The feral wasn't the problem, it was the re-

Gale took a side swipe from the claws, and screamed in agony. Radiation penetrated her power armour, causing her excruciating pain. The reaver wouldn't stop clawing at her, and she struggled to gain control. Her face was contorted in pain and fear, and for one fleeting moment, the reaver made eye contact.

She saw her reflection in its dilated, crazed eyes; saw the emptiness the ghoul held within it. This thing... it was once human. And now, now it was so beyond the help of any medicine, it was a ghoul that had gone mad. And in that one moment of time, she felt sorry for the beast that was trying to kill her.

_How quaint._

Time started moving again, and the feral reaver was digging its way past her breast plate, and attempting to bite her neck and head at the same time. Gale struggled to throw off the vesperous fiend, but it held tight to the prize it so desperately wanted, even as the nozzle of the gun repeatedly made contact with the creature's skull. Pieces of vertex and grey matter began to break and ooze under her constant battery. Gale was beginning to tire, and felt her conscious mind failing her.

_No... _"**NO!**" and with one mighty thrust into the Reaver's bloodied carapace, the gauss finally unloaded a powerful shot, making the fearful human blind and deaf for a few moments of precious time. It all happened in slow motion: The reaver falling through space with its brains splattering from the exit wound, lifeless eyes glaring into hers with the madness and hatred it held for any living creature. Teeth bared in one last attempt to bite, hands uselessly falling to its emaciated, glowing and armoured figure. The creature landed with a sick thud, and silence finally took back its residence over the room.

Gale shook her head to clear the fog that still lingered in her vision, fiery red locks sprayed about her head with each shake. She pushed her footwear away from the body, thrusting herself against the musty wall and choked once on a sob, holding her head. That was far too close for her liking, she really had to pay more attention and remind herself that she wasn't invincible. With one, final, shaky breath, humanity's last best hope was on her feet again, scowering the remains before quickly grabbing her pack and weapons that had dropped during the grapple. Standing, she ignored the throbbing pain and oozing lashes inflicted on her stomach and chest from indented metal and clear openings, injecting Med-x near the injuries. She popped some Rad away into her mouth, the bitter taste a soothing reminder that the burning sensation inside of her body would disappear shortly.

Gale began to exit the building, knowing full well she needed medical attention for the armour that now became the bane instead of the protection. If she injected herself with a stimpack now, her skin might heal to the suit, which meant the metal jutting into her body right now could have lethal consequences later. She also knew that she couldn't just simply take off the suit without damaging herself beyond repair. So, the wounded soldier began to limp hazardously past demolished vehicles, eyes set intently on the Washington monument. She knew what was nearby.

Breathless, the curious being slowed her pace to a near drawl, worried of the commotion it may set with the super mutants hiding in the bunkers and patrolling the area.

_I swear to god, the pay better be good_ _Sierra._ She cursed mentally, eyes narrowing in frustration. She no longer felt pain, thanks to the Med-X, which meant she was almost back to her usual killing, machine like self. She smiled a crooked grin, and laughed. Vault girl wondered if 200 years ago, the people who mindlessly set about their day-to-day lives ever realised that someday this glorious, picture perfect city would be the battle for mutants and the brotherhood? Not likely. The philosopher herself was cynical about post-America. Growing up in the Vault, she knew all too well about the propaganda that was used by a tyrant. The Vault was simply an extension of this Tyranny of selfish and arrogant people, people who led the west to its untimely demise. Gale's more curious side wandered over to the idea that perhaps the other continents' suffered the same fate, which in its entirety was not at all illogical.

Gale bent low near a trashed Chrysler Highlander V-89, glancing at the Brute which was nearly 24 feet away. Her breathing hitched and she gripped the Rifle with white knuckles, waiting for the enormous super mutant to continue on its mindless path across the battle field.

Relieved at the long awaited turn of her bad luck, the humanoid circled away and continued to lazily romp across the barren expanse that was, at one point, a large meticulously cut lawn. Swiftly, the lanky wanderer scurried across to the next piece of shelter, a waiting booth. Gale glanced at the ghoul guarding the entrance of the large wooden doors, and the stairs that descended below the museum of history. Turning back, she strained to hear three mutants talking around a fire in the trenches.

"You hear?"

"Me not hear thing, shut up and eat leg." A small frown worried her lips, cupping her ear to see if she could pick up more of the rough throated conversation.

"I heard thing. Perhaps scrawny human, waiting to be eaten?"

She heard dark, rumbling laughter. Her anger spiked slightly, if she had more ammo and was in a better state, she would rush the assholes. Gale had no tolerance for super mutants; she was not a partial person to low intelligence creatures that killed for fun.

"Stay, we look for pathetic meat bag after food."

The other two grunted in response, and it didn't take long for the lone wanderer to high-tail it out of the spot she was in, regardless of her spiked blood lust for the animalistic creatures. She decided she'd kill them another day... perhaps with her Shish kebab. She rather loved how it sliced through flesh like a hot knife through butter.

Still crouching and carefully avoiding noisy debris, Gale managed to make it halfway across before gunfire broke out in front of her, bullets creating small explosions at her feet.

"AGH! Fuck! What's your issue, you want as BOTH to be killed by the mutants?"

The ghoul spoke in a rough, dangerous tone. "You, maybe. Stupid Brotherhood asshole!"

More bullets sprayed near her feet, narrowly missing her steal boots.

"LISTEN LADY! I AIN'T WITH THE BROTHERHOOD! Stop! I need medical attention!" _And possibly a 4 leaf clover... _Looking behind her, Gale saw two mutant brutes and a super mutant overlord climbing out of the trenches and running towards the squabbling pair. There was no way she could take down all three at once, not in the state she was in. Her new 'friend' was certainly not going to help her in the new predicament she was in now.

"Please!" The ghoul made no move to stand down. Gale gave one last, pleading look before turning and unloaded her Gauss rifle on the yellow, snarling head of the overlord, aiming through the long scope. It fell and tumbled down into the ditch, unconscious by the powerful shot the gun emitted. The other two wielded rocket launchers and super sledges. _Great, just fucking great. _With one last jolt of energy and strength, the fallen angel sprinted across towards the entrance, her pack dragging her down immensely. The post-human shot at her again, some bullets ricocheting off of the metal, and some managing to penetrate in the more exposed areas of her being. Within the last 5 feet, Gale screamed in blind fury and tackled the zombie, shaking her furiously. The shaking lasted a few more seconds before Gale closed her bi-coloured eyes and gasped, her face contorted in agony as she began to wretch blood next to the female ghoul.

The other decaying being watched in horror as realisation was struck with the force of an A-bomb, understanding just who the wounded soldier was. Pushing her off, the sentry quickly opened the large wooden doors and dragged the wanderer inside, slamming the aperture behind the two.

"Alright smoothskin, we gotta get you to the Chop Shop. Can you handle yourself?"

Gale's only reply was an agonized groan and more bodily fluids escaping her raw and rouge lips. The other female sighed, grabbing Gales' arm and slung it over her shoulder. Together, the two worked their way past the secondary doors and into Underworld.

The Lone Wanderer had never seen such a place. The entrance had a giant skull looming over it, as if she truly were walking into the fiery gates of hell. The large double doors opened swiftly, and the smell and sight of the interior set Gale into a near frenzy. If it hadn't been for the internal bleeding, she would have been gawking over the beauty and simplicity of it all. Dark red carpets rolled gracefully up two flights of stairs, which had a stunning view of the Spartan lacuna. In the center of the small bustling community, was a large stone statue of men reaching toward the sky, as if trying to escape their otherworldly fate. It was bone chilling and awe inspiring to gaze upon the masterpiece. Talk about a "Welcome" sign. Marble danced beneath their feet, the frigid floors cooling Gale's heated body from the stuffy atmosphere, if only a little. She could live... or die, in a place like this.

Spectators watched as the two struggled to maintain their balance, making a bee-line straight towards, what Gale could make out, the "Chop Shop". A wry smile tugged at her lips, what a fitting name. Bursting the doors, the sentry dragged Gale a few more feet before letting go of her, breathing ragged breaths and wiping her decaying forehead whilst leaning against the door frame. A male ghoul instantly stood from the chair facing a desk and computer over in the far corner, outraged by the sudden burst.

"What is the meaning of this? Willow, don't you know how to n-"He stopped short of the sentence and instantly went into Doctor-Mode. Gale crumbled to the floor, heaving blood out of her lungs and stomach. A third person, presumably the nurse, ran next to where she lay on the floor... before the blackness inked into her vision, and all thought processing stopped.

* * *

Mistress death drifted in and out of consciousness, the doctor and nurse working tirelessly to keep her alive. At times she could feel them scraping on bone and cutting into skin, however she wasn't sure how they got the armour off, though. She struggled against the anaesthesia, worried she may never wake again. But each time her eye lids slid open, violet and mint eyes wild with panic, the doctor would administer more gas for her and she slipped back into the icy clutches of nothingness. Soon, after her 15th attempt, she gave up. Gale was so incredibly tired... couldn't she just... sleep for awhile?

* * *

Every god damn ghoul was talking about _her._

It was so aggravating. It seemed like as soon as someone even _sneezed _word got around one of the local ghouls never said "Bless you". And now this... this** _smoothskin_** shows up, and everyone is acting like she was the second coming of Christ. Or Barrows found a cure to reverse ghoulification.

_Fuck. **That'd** be the **day**._

Charon was in a bitter, cynical mood. He glared hatefully at anyone who began to even mention the girl around him. They, of course, thinking him to be some sort of malicious cold blooded creature only capable of killing and no irrational thought, which was a normal on his part. This was somewhat fine with him, just as long as they let him be. Occasionally, some bleeding heart walking-corpse would try to make idle chat with him, but that never lasted more than 10 seconds. The 6 foot man wasn't one to readily gossip about the world around him.

"Hey Charon. I just wanted to ask-" _Oh great._

"No."

"But I just-"

"**NO!** Go. _Sit_. Down."

"Some people..." And with that, the female ghoul gave up; her slouched shoulders another victory to the guard. Ahzrukhal was out of the Ninth circle, no doubt talking to Patchwork again or seeing who the newest money maker was. That rat would no doubt be the first to talk to the smoothskin. And with that thought, he actually pitied her. He was a smooth talker, and it wouldn't be long before the human would take up residence on the bar stool every night in her recovery.

_Speak of the Devil._ Ahzrukhal slid his way past the large mahogany doors and was grinning ear to ear. Oh how he wanted to rip out that smile with deathclaw gauntlets and break every tooth he had until his mouth was a pulpous mess. The sleazy bartender walked behind his counter and began to scrub down the dark tops, which was all but fruitless on his part.

"So, Charon, have my customers been good?"

The slave looked to his master and studied him with pure abhorrence, grinding his teeth slightly.

"Yes Ahzrukhal."

He stopped wiping the counter, glancing up at the other ghoul with a hungry look. "So, have you heard of the new girl?"

"Yes." He knew he hated when she was spoken about. That bastard.

"She is quite the looker, I'm told. Perhaps with a little... persuasion, we'll have another customer in no time?" He licked his dry lips, the saliva making the brittle and cracked skin glisten in the soft glow of the fire light. Charon felt sick but made no physical appeal to hint that he was. The poor kid didn't even have a chance.

"Maybe you should go check on her, for me, to see if she is recovering well? And maybe tell me what she looks like..." A lecherous grin formed on those moist lips, eyes narrowed at the mercenary, daring him to do anything about it. Ahzrukhal enjoyed the torment of others, especially him.

"As you wish." _You fucking pig._ Almost mechanically, the tall ghoul stood straighter, walking in large strides out of the acrid bar and down the marble steps, relishing the tiny moment of freedom he was granted. His joints popped painfully as this was the first time he had moved in two days. Charon wondered why his body functioned without him consciously thinking of doing the small task. He never dwelled upon this thought though, because soon he was pushing through the doors of the local clinic. The enormous post-human inhaled lightly, the scent of sterilization and blood hit him immediately. To his left, a bucket and mop leaned inanimately against the tile wall, blood soaking the fine fibres of the cleaning utensil and pale. That was most definitely not a good sign, he thought.

The Doctor was only slightly shocked to see him, his rough voice cracking with slight fear and surprise. His resolve came back to himself, however, and he calmly (If not a little rudely) asked him why he was here.

"I'm here to check on the girl." Charon silkily replied, his rough voice unchanged over the past few decades he worked for Ahzrukhal. Barrows frowned, but he knew that eventually the bar owner would get wind of the new comer. It was only a matter of fucking time.

"She's currently in a drug induced comatose state. We don't know how long she'll be out."

Charon side-glanced at the sleeping form of a woman, who was lying peacefully on her back. Next to the cot was bloodied armour... but not any regular armour: power armour. A machine was currently breathing for her, and the hypnotic way the air pump moved up and down with her chest made him incredibly tired. The ghoul blinked twice, walking over to the bed and sighed. She was just normal. Normal face, normal hair, normal smoothskin. He didn't quiet see what the others saw in her; she had pale skin that accentuated strong features, and a long, lean body. He leaned in closer, inspecting her face, much to the discomfort of the doctor. Ignoring the ghouls' protest, he continued his visual scan over her face. In fact, he might deem her...

A strong hand shot out from beneath the stained bed covers, grasping his arm in a death grip. The woman beneath him began thrashing wildly in the cot, skin breaking out in a cold sweat. Her eyes darted wildly around the room, and she began to cough up blood, struggling to breath.

"**GET OUT!**" Dr. Barrows bellowed, removing the oxygen mask and administering more stimpacks to her system. "**OUT!**" Charon wretched his arm free from the strange woman, but not before she locked gazes with him. Estranged eyes stared deep into his soul, crazed with fear. He would never forget those eyes, those strange, haunted eyes.

* * *

Gale was walking through a strange realm, her digits gracefully tracing silver ferns and stardust tree-trunks. Weeping willows elegantly swept the dark green grass and moss, as if caressing its fellow flora.

_I never want to leave. It's beautiful._

A strong, feminine voice broke the silence, and all other whimsical sounds stopped. "So then, why do you feel so out of place? Hmmm?"

Gale frowned and a small breath of air escaped her throat, looking towards the source of the voice. When she found none, she spoke in a quiet, submissive tone, "I do belong here. I'm so sure I do."

Laughter trickled down all around her, sweet and full of life, like the ringing of chimes. But it was wrong, Gale felt. There was just so much wrongness with it all. Her gut twisted in knots over the joyful cackle, and a fear rose up like a dragon in her throat.

"Then I must belong here, too." A beautiful woman emerged from the shadows, smoke curling in tendrils around her ankles. The beauty had long, exposed legs, only half covered by a flittering, opaque dress which clung tightly to all her curves. The woman had long, sharp claws, blood dripping down from the very tips. She smiled ever so slightly, protruding fangs biting into her black lower lip. Her hair was a brilliant rouge, and danced around her head like a lion's mane. But the most noticeable feature was her eyes... black and white, like yin and yang. It was terrifyingly beautiful.

Gale's heart pounded in her chest, wishing to escape the confinements that were her ribs.

"Me?... But, you're not me..."

"Of course I am dear. I am the animal side of you. That surge of red you feel in your veins every time you murder. I am the life and death you so often feel, and we," She made a hand gesture around her body. "Are inside of you."

Gale felt a rush of emotion sting the back of her throat as she choked, sobs echoing around the clearing of the forest. "I don't want to be you... I can't... Please..." luminous slate blue water droplets formed in Gale's bi-coloured eyes and floated away, suspended in mid air.

Her other half smiled softly and held onto nothingness, before an image wavered and appeared between her fingers like static. Their father materialized right before their very own eyes, being strangled by her wicked self. Vicious, gleaming eyes staring down at their parent, she squeezed harder, the scream that was being ripped from James' throat died down to a pathetic, gravely whimper.

Gales pleads and cries grew even louder, running towards the pair. The wanderer tumbled head-first onto a creeping moss patch, confusion and tears floating in the empty space where the two once were. Screaming her frustration, she punched a nearby trunk, wood splintering from the strong impact.

"If you really want to save him, you'd wake up." And with that said, gravity returned with such force it felt as though the young woman was being separated from her organs. The intense vertigo stopped as a bright light suddenly obscured her vision, and she wildly thrashed around in the bed she was in. Blood began to fill the cavities in her damaged lungs, making it extremely difficult to breathe without expelling the red fluid.

Her vision finally returned to her, ending the wild flickering of her eyes on a pair of milky blue irises. The tall man shook her hand away, recoiling the appendage back to her side, still violently wheezing and sputtering her life fluid out in the translucent oxygen mask. Another man was shouting at the first to leave, and after a few seconds of gazing into her irises, he was gone.

* * *

**R+R**! So... I lied a tad about continuing every week. I got a laptop (So amazing) and I have a Border collie puppy... and besides being the most intelligent dog in the world, they also need the most attention. Hopefully, I'll begin working on the next chapter very soon.

Disclaimer: I don't own Fallout, or anything. I'm not the CEO of Bethesda; I'm not the mastermind artists who created the game and concept. I'm none of those, but I wish I was. I am, however, the owner of Gale, and my imagination. And that is why this fanfiction exists. So bite me.

And OH MY GOD. Haha I laughed so hard at some of the youtube videos on fallout. Look up .com/watch?v=RT4AAclTEzk and you won't regret it.

Well, not sure what else to put here. Slap my ass and call me Surely.

:[ stop calling me Shirley.

I have a bad headache. Nnngh


End file.

Fallout, Hurt-Comfort, Romance