Chapter Text
“You can’t be fuckin’ serious, dude. Ya gotta lay off the jet.” She flicks the ash off her cigarette onto the floor, barely moving from her slouched position against a fellow raider sleeping on the ratty loveseat. The other one paces, barely disguised rage on his face, scrap metal armor grating together with each movement.
“I am fucking serious!” He throws his arms into the air. “There were two, TWO!!! Walkin’ skeletons out there. One of them was wearin’ like, armor!” He stops, a wild look in his eyes. “Yanno, like that shit we seen at the museum before the muties took over.”
The other raider rolls her eyes, and moves to get up with a hefty sigh. “Jesus, alright, we’ll fuckin’ look!” She puts the rest of her cig out on the sleeping raider’s armor before stashing it in a pocket on her belt. “But if we don’t find shit, I’m goin’ to the boss ‘bout it.”
“FINALLY! C’mon, I seen ‘em over by the church.” he scoops a battered, scoped, pipe rifle off the floor and slings it over his shoulder before prying the back door open. She rolls her eyes again, and checks her holstered pipe pistol before following. The two of them climb up a series of crates and stacked garbage to get onto the roof, avoiding a large hole in the process. He stops suddenly, pointing to a window in the old building across the street. “See?!”
She shoves him a little, squinting. “I don’t see shit, bozo. That looks like some shiny trash.” He shoves her back, and the two of them start bickering again. In a window two stories above them, in the building next to the church, the barrel of a rifle gleams, almost beckoningly, while a shot is lined up.
–
“are you sure we shouldn’t just wait till like…nighttime? like…” Papyrus gestures around him with a lazy wave, purple eyelights flicking over every detail in a way that contradicts his slouched posture. “there’s a bunch’a humans over there, and one’a them definitely saw us…”
Inside the helmet, a pair of matching eyelights roll in their sockets, and Sans scoffs. “NOT A PROBLEM FOR ME. I DOUBT THEIR FEEBLE WEAPONS COULD EVEN DENT MY ARMOR.” He turns his head to look at his brother, and the moment is interrupted by the crack of a sniper rifle, and the subsequent screaming of an angry and frightened human. Pistol shots sound off, and another crack from the rifle silences everything else. The pair of monsters freeze in place, and the sound of deliberately quieted footsteps can be heard next door. They share a look, but move to stand their ground, readying for battle. It takes several minutes, but a hooded figure hops down to the street, surveying the area before carefully approaching the church.
–
It wasn’t entirely surprising to see raiders taking interest in something worth shooting, but this time you’d seen the object of their interest, and decided to step in to save what was probably two scavvers who’d wandered into what was very, very dangerous territory. Natick was as close to the Glowing Sea as one could get without getting doused in radiation, and there were obvious signs of super mutants in the area. The raiders must have just arrived while the mutants wandered, and from the looks of it, it was a small group, maybe three or four raiders, tops. You’d expected more resistance after killing their friends, so the others must be sleeping off…something in the old Red Rocket across the street. You’d deal with that after.
For the moment, all sound and movement had ceased in the old church, so they were probably hiding. Good. Now all you had to do was announce yourself so you didn’t get shot. You scaled down the broken floors of the rotting building with ease, making sure to make enough noise when you got to the bottom so as to not scare them with your quiet approach. Again, not getting shot is important. You make it as far as the haphazardly built fence outlining the mutants territory when a wall of blue bones appears at waist-height, and you stop suddenly with a gasp.
“SO YOU UNDERSTAND BLUE MAGIC! INTERESTING. THEN YOU KNOW NOT TO COME ANY FURTHER, OR I’LL SPEAR YOU WHERE YOU STAND.” You can kind of see them through the doorway, and if the sudden display hadn’t already knocked your jaw to the ground, this surely would. The tall one, wearing a long, fur-trimmed winter jacket, is one hundred percent a skeleton. Like..you’ve seen skeletons. Hell, there was one hanging from the ceiling of the hardware store you’d just exited. You’d think maybe it was just a prop for the guy in armor, but that ghostly-purple eyesocket is like, moving slightly. You’re pretty sure it’s sweating. The other guy, the armored one; much shorter, has those same purple lights inside the helmet. And the bones? BONES??? He said magic, you’d heard that, your ears work, so like…God you don’t even know!
You feel frozen; is that magic too, or is it fear? You’re struggling to breathe, it’s gotta be fear. You’re trying to choke out a sentence, hoping to get some answers, or give them even. “M-magic? I-I..I’m not…uh…” It’s not safe to sit down here, on the street, but if you don’t you’re gonna fall. You take a step back, hands up, hoping he doesn’t follow through. The lights follow you, and you crumple to the ground, not far from where the bones are. You can…kind of see through them, now that you’re looking. Weird.
The lights in the helmet leave you for a moment to look at the other one, and that one nods slightly, then those lights flick back to you. The bones drop, disappearing, and you know you’re still probably gaping like a fish out of water. The ghostly light disappears from the other one’s socket, and is replaced with two lights, like the shorter one. For some reason, that action releases a lot of the tension from your body, and the air wooshes out of you.
The armored one takes a tentative step forward, lights scanning the streets, before removing his helmet. Another skeletal face peers down at you, checking you over before pulling you to your feet with a gauntleted hand. He pulls you forward, into the church, and you don’t resist. The tall one seems to be…lifting something with his mind, an intact pew, setting it down while the short one leads you to it, setting you down almost gently. “What…” You croak, and clear your throat.
“What are you doing? I mean…” You rub your face, skewing your glasses. “What are you? You said ‘magic’? Are-are you a mutant? Are there more of you? It’s not…it’s not safe. For you. You’ll die. T-they don’t…There’s not…” You’re rambling, you know you are, and you take a shaky breath. The two skeletons share a look before turning their attention back to you.
“WE…ARE MONSTERS.” He starts, and you open your mouth to speak, and he holds up a hand, quieting you. “BEFORE YOU START, NO, NOT YOUR HUMAN DEFINITION OF ‘MONSTERS’. WE MEAN THAT LITERALLY. WE’RE A RACE OF MAGIC BEINGS, FORCED UNDERGROUND BY YOUR KIND A VERY, VERY LONG TIME AGO.” He pauses, sharing another look with the other one. “WE’RE ALL DIFFERENT, SO TO SPEAK. THE TWO OF US ARE…RARE, SO YOU WON’T SEE ANOTHER ONE OF US. BUT WE AREN’T…MUTANTS, AS YOU PUT IT.” He pauses again, as if remembering something. “WE’VE SEEN THINGS…THAT ARE PROBABLY MORE UP YOUR ALLEY. LARGE, GREEN…BEINGS.” You nod enthusiastically, so he continues. “WE AREN’T THOSE. OR THOSE LITTLE ONES THAT HUNT IN GROUPS.” He shudders. “NOT THE MOST…IDEAL REINTRODUCTION TO THE SURFACE, BUT I DIGRESS.”
You nod, slowly, a look of understanding in your eyes, and turn your head slightly to the tall one, who freezes for a moment. “I’m…uh…yeah…that would be a rough start.” You hesitate, thinking. “I’m sorry. F-for the way I reacted, I mean. Thought I’d seen it all, heh…I guess two walking skeletons was enough to…rattle me…” You trail off, looking sheepish, but your sudden joke sort of startles a laugh out of the tall one, a quiet series of ‘Nyeh heh heh’s’ that have you actually smiling almost instantly. The armored one scoffs, tapping a foot on the floor in annoyance.
“ANYWAY! NOW THAT YOU HAVE ALTOGETHER TOO MUCH INFORMATION ABOUT US, I SUGGEST YOU LEAVE. WE HAVE NOTHING TO PAY YOU WITH FOR YOUR SERVICES RENDERED, BUT WE ARE…THANKFUL REGARDLESS.” He crams his helmet back on, and you tilt your head at him, brow furrowed.
“Uh…what? ‘Services rendered’?” He nods curtly. “WE WERE BEING…HUNTED, AND YOU DISPATCHED MEMBERS OF YOUR OWN KIND, AND PROVIDED US WITH INFORMATION.” You blink, rather owlishly at him.
“Oh! The raiders. Uh…yeah, I thought you were uh…scavvers or something. Listen…” You lean forward, arms resting on your thighs. “You can’t stay here. This is like…probably one of the unsafest towns to be in on this side of Boston. I was just passing through on patrol, but like…” You trail off, thinking. “There’s a deathclaw nest, a super mutant camp, raiders now…the town is falling into the lake…the glowing sea is like…Right There, yanno…” You sit up and lean back, arms crossed. “Not safe. Just…I’d feel better if you two came with me. Maybe got some disguises, a debriefing on the situation, ect…”
The armored one pauses, looking at the tall one. The two share an unreadable look before he turns back to you. “I know, services rendered, payment, yadda yadda…Think of this as paying me back. I ain’t leavin’ without’cha. You need help, and I wanna help.”
There’s a huff under the helmet, and he jabs his armored hand out to you, and you shake on it. “FINE. LEAD THE WAY, I SUPPOSE.”
“Great! Let’s get the fuck outta here. Deathclaws are no joke, and I ain’t got the ammo to deal with one, let alone a pack.” The armored one stands at attention and waits for you to move to the door before following, his companion following after. You amble over to a broken radiation shelter, carefully rooting around until you pull out a traveling pack and sling it on, tying your sniper rifle into a holster on the side. You then unclip a leather tube from your belt and open it, removing a rolled-up piece of paper and carefully unfurling it. There’s a device on your left arm that they didn’t notice before that you click on, and it lets out a low hum before going silent again. The screen casts a sickly green glow onto your face, and you squint a little before your eyes adjust. “Christ, I really outta sit down and fix that. Gonna burn my retinas at this rate.” You hold up the paper, which turns out to be a very outdated-looking map, and compare it to the one currently displayed on the screen, tracing what’s probably a route out of here. With a nod and a yawn, you roll the map back up and slide it into the tube once more. “Alright nerds, I think the bridge to the southeast will do us better than headin’ north into Gunner territory. At least muties are too stupid to give chase for long.” You mutter that last part, following the broken road out of town. The two skeletons are vigilant; heads on a swivel, taking in as much as they can.
It’s quiet at first; you, lost in thought over the myriad of things you’d learned in a short conversation, and the two of them, probably trying to commit everything to memory. The three of you’d hit the 15 minute mark when you cleared your throat and spoke up. “So uh…y’all got names, or am I gonna keep callin’ you ‘armor guy and tall guy’?” You pause. “Mine’s ‘Roads’, if that helps.”
The armored one hums. “ROADS? NOT YOUR GIVEN NAME, I TAKE IT.” You shake your head no. “YOU MAY CALL ME SANS. THIS ‘TALL GUY’ IS MY YOUNGER BROTHER, PAPYRUS.” Papyrus gives you a two-finger salute. “sup?”
You give him a small wave and a smile. “I haven’t used my…given name in like…sheesh, a decade now?” Papyrus cocks a non-existent eyebrow and tilts his head. “why’s that?”
“I…I guess I consider it a…rebirth, almost. Left my old life in the hole I crawled out of, and haven’t intentionally looked back.” You give him a sheepish shrug, obviously embarrassed to be talking about it. “Nobody’s ever asked. It’s uh…it’s just better if you don’t ask that sort’a thing. People are touchy, and it’s a fairly ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ kind of world now.”
“...KILL OR BE KILLED, SO TO SPEAK.” You shrug again. “So to speak, yeah.” There’s a natural lapse in your conversation, and it’s…a comfortable silence. One that’s about to be interrupted by the fact that you’ve spotted a nasty-looking camp in your way, across the small section of lake you need to walk around. You groan, pushing the hood off your head. “Oookay, let’s huddle for a moment.” You stop and motion the two over, pointing across the water. “That hunk of bullshit over there is a pretty typical super mutant camp. See the barrels? Full’a radioactive garbage. Keeps ‘em happy and healthy. So…” You give them a Look, and Papyrus nods.
“don’t start any fights. got’cha.” Sans huffs under his helmet, but doesn’t argue, and you give him a smile. “We should be okay as long as we give it a wide berth, but we’re really skirting the edge here, so keep an eye out for giant bugs and lizards.” You start off again, diverting south a bit more, and after another 10 minutes, your wrist starts clicking, and you groan, but push on without a word, your own head on a swivel this time. Papyrus wordlessly points ahead, and you squint to see what it is; the edge of the road you need to follow. You squeeze his shoulder before passing him, picking up the pace. It was only an extra 10 minutes, but you’re losing daylight, and you’re still way too far south for comfort.
–
Once you’re on the road, the brothers chat quietly behind you about nothing in particular, and you let them have their moment in peace while you scan your digital map for potential places to stop for the night. Diamond City was out of the question, and while your first instinct was to take them north to Sanctuary, that was nearly five days away. If you could alter their wardrobe a little, Goodneighbor would work, and it didn’t hurt that you lived there. You hummed under your breath, eyes following the train tracks on the screen. If you stuck to those, you’d have a fairly uninterrupted path past most of the city proper. Hell, if the tunnels weren’t full of fucking ferals, you could just use Hancock’s warehouse to get there directly. You sighed. It was tempting…You click off the map and straighten up from your slouch. You’d think about it and bring it up to your new companions after you crossed the river.
The river in question was just down the hill from you, and the bridge was…stuck, partially raised, with several cars hanging off the edge. Shit. You’d never really been down this road, and…fuck it. You were already here, and it wouldn’t be too difficult to climb over. You squint, scanning the bridge. There’s a broken bus near the middle that you could climb over, and you turn to tell your companions as much.
“We’re almost over the river, we just gotta scale over that bridge.” You point, and they look up at you, and then the bridge. “NOT A PROBLEM.” Sans nods, and Papyrus nods with him, disappearing with a ‘pop!’. You whip your head around when you hear a laugh on the bridge, and you’re pretty sure your mouth is hanging open again while you jog over the bridge. “What the fuck dude!”
Papyrus winks at you, and you pick your jaw up off the ground to start working on getting there yourself. The hood of that car is close enough that you could…probably jump off and onto the bus, as long as you don’t impale yourself on the jagged metal. While you’re considering your options, Sans has completely removed his armor and stashed it in his dimensional box, leaving him in his guard uniform. He grabs you by the shoulders and turns you bodily toward him before adjusting his elbow-length gloves. You’re about to ask him where his armor went when he picks you up and slings you over his shoulder, and you let out a small, surprised shriek. He uses his free hand to summon a staircase of bones, and climbs it like this is something he does every day. He gingerly sets you down next to his brother, who puts an arm around your shoulders to steady you on the rusty slope. You’re…stunned, once again.
“I…what…” Sans has a smug grin on his face, and your whole face heats up in embarrassment. “Thanks. For the uh…lift.” He dusts some imaginary dust off his uniform before walking carefully down the bridge, arms behind his back. “AS I SAID, NOT A PROBLEM.”
“show-off.” Papyrus mutters, rolling his eyes good-naturedly, and follows his brother down. You stumble after them and take the lead once more, still completely flushed. You click on your map again to distract yourself, noting that you’re getting close to the tracks you need to follow. “So uh…” You trail off, looking over your shoulder at the two of them. “We’ve got two options, as I see it, to get to our destination.”
You can see that you’ve peaked Sans’ attention, and he lengthens his strides to catch up to you. “WHAT IS OUR DESTINATION?” You smile, pointing to a spot on the map. “Goodneighbor! It’s my main base of operations on the south-side of Boston, and the second largest settlement in the Commonwealth. It's also the only place where mutants and outsiders are openly welcome."
He nods, so you continue, pointing to another, closer area on the map. "These train tracks'll get us pretty close to the city without actually being in there, but the mayor of Goodneighbor has a warehouse with tunnels that lead straight there." You pause, and Papyrus speaks up from over your shoulder. "so what's the catch?"
“It’s two-fold; the warehouse is guarded, which isn’t much of a problem, ‘cos they know me. The real problem is that the tunnels are full of feral ghouls. Yanno, the mutants that apparently gave you the welcome mat.” Papyrus grimaces, pulling away slightly. “that’s not...ideal…”
“I know, but the last time I was in there, we cleared a fair amount of them out, so it shouldn’t be too awful. It also means we won’t run into anyone that’ll shoot you for being scary, and it’s more direct, so we’ll get there faster.” Sans leans over to glance at the map once more. “THE PROS OUTWEIGH THE CONS. PAPYRUS?”
Papyrus shrugs, looking out into the trees. “works for me.” You furrow your brow, trying to follow his line of sight. “You alright?”
He nods, looking back at you with an easy smile on his face, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “We won’t be in there for long, maybe 40 minutes tops. Back on the surface before you know it.”
His smile turns a little more genuine, and he ducks into the fur of his collar. You throw a smile his way before turning your attention back to the road.
–
“so you guys dont have tv? what about movies?” Papyrus looks distressed, and you laugh. “I mean, if you can find an intact reel and a projector, sure, we’ve got movies. There’s like, radio dramas, holotapes with books on ‘em…hell, if you can find a working computer and the holotapes for it, there’s games to play.”
He deflates a little, looking put out. “but there’s…nothing new, huh?” You bump him with your shoulder, giving him a teasing smile. “Not really. It’s hard to create when you’re constantly fighting for survival, yanno?” You stumble over a branch on the tracks with an ‘oof!’, and Papyrus grabs your shoulder to steady you, chuckling under his breath. You shoot him a playful glare, and Sans snorts. You...barely knew each other, but it felt comfortable…almost familiar.
You readjust your pack with a huff, and point to a worn-down building across a field. “That’s the mayor’s warehouse. I’ve got,” You pat your pockets down until you find a single key amongst what looks like random pieces of trash and lint. “the key! Or the spare key, whatever. I’m on pretty good terms with the mayor, and he knows I’ve got it, so…I figure he realizes I’d end up using the tunnels again.” The crunching of leaves underfoot makes the three of you freeze in place, and you’re frantically scanning your surroundings. Papyrus pulls his hood up and turns abruptly away from the noise, and Sans has jammed his helmet onto his skull again.
Three figures appear out of the brush, and you let out the breath you were holding, recognizing the blue bandanas and leather minutemen hats. “Christ, what timing…” You mutter under your breath as they notice you and approach.
“Oh, sir! We didn’t realize your patrol was gonna take you down ‘ere.” They stand at attention. “Nothin’ to report, so far. Took out a couple’a raiders settin’ up camp at the Mass Pike tunnels again, but otherwise quiet.” You nod, eyes flicking over their faces. You only barely recognize them; the one speaking was one of the ones that helped take the Castle back.
“Good, that’s good. Don’t give the little fuckers any room to grow over there again.” You pick at your cheek idly, and they salute you.
“We’ll be continuin’ south and loop past Jamaica Plains to the Castle. Stay safe out there, sir!” You give them a tired smile and a lazy salute, and they start filing out down the tracks.
“Watch out for the ferals at Jamaica!” You call out, and you hear a quiet ‘Thank you, General!’ in response. Your skeletal companions are quiet, and as you start walking, they keep pace with you. “SO.”
You wince at his volume breaking the silence, but glance at him. His eyelights are focused on you from inside the helmet. “So…?” You see the lights roll in their sockets. “SO, ‘GENERAL’. YOU DON’T…STRIKE ME AS MUCH.” You sigh, head rolling back, and chance a glance at Papyrus, who still has his hood up, but is watching you with great interest.
“Ugh. It’s more…honorific…than anythin’…I mean…” You clear your throat, awkwardness rolling off you in waves. “I mean, yeah. General of the Minutemen. My lieutenant does most of the work, I just…kill things.” Sans squints at you, obviously not buying it. “YOU HAVE A CASTLE.”
You snort out a laugh, holding your hands up. “No, no no, that’s just…it’s just the name, yanno? It’s an old military fort from like, the 1600s. Uh…” You trail off, trying to remember. “Fort Independence, I think? Anyway, not a real castle. Just a grimy old fort full of people with guns.”
“INTERESTING. EVEN STILL, YOU DON’T STRIKE ME AS THE TYPE. YOU’RE…” This time he trails off, looking you over. “soft. way too soft. like a little teddy bear.”
Papyrus interrupts, a smirk on his face. "What?! I'm!!" You inhale sharply, jabbing him in the arm. "I'm a mercenary, for fucks sake! I kill people for money!"
He laughs, poking you back. "softest killer I've ever seen." You groan, throwing your hands in the air. “This is slander! Did you even see my artful headshots back in Natick? Could a teddy bear do THAT?!” Papyrus hums, stroking his chin. “Oh don’t even pretend to consider that!”
“‘Ey wise-guys! Not anotha step forward or me ‘n’ my friend’ll fill ya fulla lead!” A man dressed like an old gangster steps forward, tommy gun aimed at the three of you. Another one rounds the corner, looking surprised. “Hey Kenny, drop the attitude! That’s the boss’ merc.”
Kenny nearly drops his gun, face going pale. “S-shit! Uh, sorry ma’am! Didn’t know you’d be comin’ through..” You wave him off, turning to give the other one a smile.
“Long time, no see, Lenny. I see the mayor still thinks it’s funny to pair you guys together, huh?” You cross your arms, and Lenny groans. “Yeah yeah, laugh it up.” He straightens his tie, leaning on the building. “You gonna use the tunnels? Still pretty unstable…”
You nod. “Need to sneak my friends in and get ‘em cleaned up. Had a rough time in Natick with the raiders.” Lenny steps forward, motioning for you to follow him. The skeletons are still trying to keep themselves hidden, so to speak. “Yeesh lady, you sure know how t’pick ‘em.”
You snort, following him inside after watching him fumble the keys. “What can I say, I like a challenge.” You pause, scanning the room more out of habit than anything else. “Just you two?”
“Yes ma’am. Don’t need much for security no more on account’a the ferals, yanno? S’just me ‘n’ Kenny now; Luis and Abe swap out every 10 hours or so, so’s we get a real break once in a while.”
“Good! This place is a dump.” You toe a rusted can out of the way and gesture the two monsters to follow you, leaving Lenny at the door. He gives you a wave and locks it behind him as he leaves again. You unholster a sawed-off shotgun from your lower back and pop it open, making sure it’s loaded before picking your way through the crates of random crap and rusted-in-place rail cars to the back of the building, where an old metal door is chained shut. You tap the toe of your boot against it a few times, rattling the chains in the process, and then stop to listen.
…
…
…All quiet. You slide the key into the lock and jiggle it free of the chains, which fall to the floor surprisingly quietly. You poke your head inside before giving the all clear to follow, allowing the skeletons to step down a few steps before closing the door behind you. “I guess Lenny’ll hafta come in here and close up again. Oh well.” You shrug, and Papyrus lowers his hood, eyeing up the door.
“eh, I’ve got it.” His hand turns blue, and you can hear the chains rising off the floor with quiet ‘clink’s, slowly wrapping around the handle before the padlock clicks back into place. It’s quiet for a moment, and nobody moves any further into the building. “Well, uh…that was oddly final.”