Work Text:
Bingo Prompt: Location: The Wasteland
“Sir?” The word hissed in his direction made Cooper flinch, along with the sound of far off shouting. His head was pounding…no, his whole body was pounding, but his skull felt like it had been split. Groaning, he brought a weak hand to his forehead, wincing when that hurt too.
“The fuck,” he rasped, mostly because he couldn’t make his voice any louder. What the hell had happened? A stunt gone wrong? Had he fallen off a horse? Or a roof? When he forced his eyes open, he had to close them again immediately. The sun was high in the sky beating down on him through the slats of whatever scaffolding they were under, and he was wearing a jacket for some reason, long sleeves going down to his wrists. He starred at his hands, wondering why the fuck his skin looked like that. Makeup, he realized…of course…what the hell kind of movie was this? He’d been on set, right? Usually after a fall like the one he must have had, he’d wake up surrounded by medics and the director and…
What movie was this?
He opened his eyes again, turning his head this time. He was on a set, that much was for sure. He could see dilapidated buildings across a dirt road and crates piled high like some kind of partition. So some kind of western? There was a dog lying beside him. Not Roosevelt. Maybe a German Shepherd? For some reason, his brain wasn't quite responding at the moment...probably the head trauma.
He remembered…what? What was the last thing he remembered? The movies all blurred together after a while, but he hadn’t made one in what he thought was a long time…at least a few months. There had been…the divorce. And fucking Vault Tec. He knew that much. And…he’d been blacklisted. So what…was this some kind of third rate movie he’d taken out of desperation? If so…why the hell couldn't he remember? It was a western, he was pretty sure. His clothes felt grimey and…strange. Hell, so did he. Dusty. Caked in dirt and sweat…Jesus, he needed a shower. And why the fuck was there a saddlebag on his shoulder?
What day was it? Was he supposed to pick up Janey? Why the hell couldn’t he remember? And where was the medic…unless…
“Sir?” the voice hissed again, and he turned his head again, flinching when that hurt too, and he felt his eyes go wide.
It was a woman. A young woman, her face done up to look as filthy as he felt, her hair tied back with lank strands falling from the ponytail. Still…even underneath the dirt, and with a strangely familiar blue jumpsuit on…she was beautiful. With wide, frightened eyes and lips that quivered, a hand outstretched towards him but not touching…she was too young for him, that was for sure. But Jesus…she was so goddamn beautiful. And she looked scared.
“Sir? Can you hear me?”
He tried to smile, even if his whole head protested the movement. “You don’t have to look like that, honey. I’m alright.”
She blinked at him, wide eyes somehow going wider. Her lip had fake blood dripping from a made up cut there, and her arm…there was a gash on her arm that the makeup department had done a damn good job on. The arm dropped, hand falling to her side as she looked around, a strange looking gun gripped in her other shaking hand. He followed her gaze…but there were no cameras. Where was the camera crew? The director? She wasn’t a medic, not dressed like that. They were lying in the dirt so he must have…fallen through the scaffolding? They were under some kind of platform, splintered pieces of wood scattered all around them.
“Where is everyone?”
The extra blinked at him, wiping a hand over her forehead and smearing blood and dirt. “I…don’t know what you mean. I’m sorry…”
Why the hell was this woman so afraid of him? He wasn’t exactly a big name anymore, and even when he had been, he’d thought he had a reputation for being nice. He wasn’t some asshole that yelled at the crew or fought with directors. And he’d never so much as given an extra a dirty look, at least as far as he could remember. Was this part of Vault Tec’s plan to fuck him over too? Were they spreading rumors that he screamed at women or something?
“It’s alright,” he told her, trying to make his voice gentle. “I just mean the crew. And a medic. I think I hit my head.”
She nodded, biting down on her bottom lip in a way that made him feel…something. Which was ridiculous because he was forty three years old and this girl looked about half his age. Although, he thought wryly, it wasn’t like he was a married man anymore. That, he remembered in painful detail, even if he couldn’t remember what movie this way or what he’d had for breakfast or who this beautiful, scared woman was.
“You did…I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault. That’s a risk of the job. But where the hell is the medic?”
She gave their surroundings another hopeless look. “I’m sorry…I…I think…you may have hit your head too hard…um…there isn’t a medic anywhere.”
“What the hell kind of movie is this?” he asked, forcing himself to chuckle a little. But really…no medic? “Where’s the crew?”
She shook her head again, teeth still digging in her lip. “Sir…”
“You don’t have to call me sir, darlin’. Cooper’s just fine.”
Her jaw dropped, wide eyes blinking again and again as she stared down at the ground like she couldn't quite process this. A fan? She was awfully afraid of him to be a fan. “Cooper?” she repeated.
“Yeah. Cooper Howard.” He held out a hand, attempting a charming smile, but she just stared at it for a long time before bringing her hand up to clasp his. One of her fingers was covered in dark gray makeup…like the skin there was dead, and he wondered again what the hell kind of movie this was. He’d said it almost like a joke…surely if she was in a movie with him, she knew his name, but she didn’t smile.
“Do…do you know who I am?”
He winced and tried to hide it. “Sorry, darlin’. Must have had it knocked out of me.” He felt like an asshole. Usually he at least knew the names of the people he was working with. Then again, this woman looked familiar so maybe he had known before he hit his head.
“No…that’s…that’s okay. Um…” Still looking like she was at a loss, she grabbed a barrel she’d been sitting behind and pulled herself to her feet, peering through the stairs of the platform they were under. He noticed she wasn’t putting any weight on her left leg even as she crouched, and there was blood on the leg of her suit. And…a gash in her calf, the skin underneath ripped open. More makeup? For a third rate movie with no medic, they had a hell of a makeup department.
But why would she be acting right now?
“Sorry…who are you?”
“Oh…um…” She winced as she sat in the dirt once more. “Sorry. Lucy. Lucy MacLean.”
That name was so familiar…Lucy MacLean. Lucy. Lucy. It echoed in his mind, stirring something he didn’t understand. Lucy. He knew her. Suddenly he knew that as well as he knew his own name. He knew this woman and she meant something to him. “I’m sorry, Lucy. I know you, right?”
“Yes. You know me,” she told him with a grim smile. “We need to get out of here…”
Cooper started to sit up. “Probably to a hospital.” He hated to admit it…he really did. He was pretty proud of the fact that he rarely if ever got hurt on set, but even when he did, he tended to walk it off. That thought was cut off when Lucy’s hand gripped his sore shoulder, easing him up so he could sit against one of the barrels. “Thanks. What happened?”
She grimaced, looking through the stairs again. “You…I think you hit your head and forgot some things.”
“Yeah, I got that,” he told her, chuckling a little, then wincing when his chest gave a twinge. He pressed a hand there, coughing painfully, and her head snapped around to look at him before grabbing for his jacket. He jumped a little. “What…”
She ignored him, pulling something out of his jacket and pressing it into his hand. An inhaler? “Here,” she urged softly, her hand guiding his to press the inhaler to his mouth. As if he knew what to do somehow, although he’d never had asthma and had never needed an inhaler, he squeezed the bulb and took a deep breath of the medicine that coated his mouth and flew into his lungs, soothing the ache there. It seemed to soothe his head too, and he stared down at the empty vial before looking back at the woman kneeling across from him.
“Thanks. I don’t remember needing that.”
Her eyes went soft, some pain in them he didn’t understand. “You forgot a lot of things. I’m sorry…it’s too much to explain right now. But…we have to get out of here. There are some…people here. And if they catch us, they’ll kill us.”
“Is that the plot to the scene?” he asked, kind of bemused that she was so committed.
Slowly, she shook her head. “No. It’s not a scene. This isn’t a movie. I’m sorry. There’s no crew and no hospital for us to go to. We have to get back to the road.”
Cooper just stared at her, some part of him knowing she was right. This wasn’t a set. He wouldn’t have gotten hurt like this on a set. And even if he had, someone would have come for him. Someone would have gotten him to a hospital. And her…that wasn’t make up. “You’re hurt,” he breathed, the horror of it sudden, like a blow to the chest. ”That’s real.” He gestured to her leg, grabbing a tattered piece of fabric from his bottom of his duster and ripping it away. It wasn’t clean, but it would help stop the blood. “Here.”
“We don’t have time…”
But despite the pain in his head, he was focused now. “Listen, I don’t remember much, but I remember that I know you. And I remember how to dress a wound. Tell me the basics while I do this.”
Slowly, Lucy shifted closer so that he could wrap her leg in a makeshift tourniquet. “Okay…um…the basics. This is probably going to sound crazy.”
“Hit me.”
“Okay. So…there was a war. A really big war. And Vault Tec…they’re a company that…”
“I know all about Vault Tec, honey,” he told her grimly. That much, he remembered.
“Right…they…they dropped bombs.”
His hands hesitated where they were tying fabric around her leg, eyes slowly coming up to look at her. She was wearing a Vault suit, he realized then. A real Vault suit. “The bombs,” he whispered.
She nodded. “Yes. The nuclear bombs.”
“Okay.” He got the sense that he didn’t have the time to process that, so he just nodded. Fine. So the bombs had dropped and he was alive somehow. Why exactly he trusted this woman was a mystery to him…but he did. He trusted her. Bone deep.
“So…I’m from a Vault. And you were kept alive for a long time because of radiation? I think? I’m not really sure. Um…we are traveling together. We’re looking for my dad.” Lucy didn’t meet his eyes as she spoke, but she did flinch back a little when he reached for her leg again. He froze, looking back up at her. Had he…hurt her? He couldn’t imagine it…couldn’t imagine what the hell would drive him to hurt this girl, but…the bombs had dropped?
“Okay,” he said anyway. “We’re traveling together.”
“Yes. And I…I saw this town along the road and I said that we should stop to look for supplies. And you said that was a…that we shouldn’t. That there probably wasn’t anything left here. And I argued with you. We had a big fight. I needed more RadX and water…” Her voice cracked a little, but she wasn’t meeting his eyes. “I’m sorry. This is my fault. I should have listened to you. But…we don’t…a lot of the time, we don’t…” She shook her head, wiping a hand over her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“Hey, it’s fine,” he tried to assure her, not able to stand the sight of her so upset, even if she did think this was her fault. Hell, even if it was.
“It’s not,” she whispered, words coming out in a rush. “Because I got up early and I went out on my own. I…I didn’t even know you’d come after me. But you were waiting for me outside one of the houses and there were these…I don’t know what they are. They’re not people. They’re…monsters. They found me but you saved me. And they shot a…a missile or something at us. You grabbed me and we fell out the window but something hit you in the head and now…”
He’d been right. She was important to him. Important enough for him to protect her even after they'd been fighting.
Lucy went quiet then, like she was hearing something he couldn't thanks to the ringing in his ears, and the dog beside him stiffened, her fur bristling, teeth bared as she growled. “Shhh,” Lucy urged in a whisper, a hand on the dog’s back. “Please…shhh…” She glanced back at the space between the stairs, hand tightening around her strange gun. “We have to get out of here. We set up camp…I think you left my bag there.”
“How long have I been out?”
“I dragged you under here…um…an hour ago. Maybe two. I don’t know.” She glanced at the device on her wrist. PipBoy, his addled mind supplied. Barb had worn one.
“So you saved me too,” he offered, and for some reason she pressed a hand to her mouth, turning her face away from him, eyes closing. “Hey…” He rested a hand on her shoulder, but she shook her head.
“You’re mad at me. You don’t remember…but, I promise…you don’t even like me. So…you shouldn’t be nice to me.”
His lips twitched into a sad smile. She was wrong, he knew that much. He liked her. Maybe he liked her too much. But this wasn’t the time or the place to argue. “Well, I’m not mad at you right now, and I doubt fighting will get us out of this any faster. So how about a truce until I remember why exactly it is that I’m mad at you?” He held out a hand, and after a long hesitation, Lucy turned and took it, her eyes not quite meeting his.
Electricity sparked throughout his body, starting at that point of contact.
“Okay,” she whispered, her smile sad. “Truce.”
“Now, how…”
Lucy’s face went pale, and before Cooper knew it, she was yanking her hand away, gun coming up and firing before he knew what was happening. When Cooper followed her gaze, he found…a creature. Not a man. It was tall…too tall, with green skin and sharp teeth, a bleeding hole in its shoulder that didn’t seem to bother it as it moved towards them, a rifle in its hands.
The creature wasn’t a man. Monster was the right word for it, she’d been right about that. This was a monster.
Lucy bared her teeth, firing again and ducking behind a barrel when the creature returned fire into the close quarters, trying to duck down into the space under the platform.
“Lucy!”
It turned its face to him but Lucy fired again, this bullet hitting it in the knee. “Leave him alone!” she screamed, limping backwards. The gun fell from her hand, probably empty, he assumed, and she pulled out a hunting knife, holding it out with a shaking hand as the monster swung around, not seeming to notice the bleeding holes in its skin, and pointed the gun at her once more.
Cooper didn’t know what made him reach back, hand closing around a shotgun…he didn’t understand how he even knew that gun was there, but he did know that no one was going to hurt Lucy. Not if he could stop it. His hands knew what to do, and he aimed at the thing’s head as the dog snarled and backed away behind him. But before the dog or Lucy could even attempt to lunge, Cooper fired, the bullet blowing a hole through its skull, and the monster dropped.
Lucy stared at him in the silence that followed, a slow, hopeful smile tilting the corners of her mouth. “You remember how to shoot.”
“I was a Marine, sweetheart. I don’t think anything could make me forget.”
She grinned outright, reaching out a hand that he took, fingers sparking at the contact as she pulled him to his feet. “Oh…that makes sense.” Lucy grabbed the gun the monster had dropped, looking it over before nodding to herself.
“How many more of them are there, do you know?”
“Maybe four? We can’t fight all of them. We should go.”
Cooper nodded. “Alright. How do we get out of here?”
“We came in that way,” she told him, pointing.
“Lead the way, sweetheart. I’ll cover you.”
She met his eyes, something hopeful and sad there, before she nodded and reached down to grab her gun, shoving it back in her holster. “Alright. Come on, Dogmeat,” she murmured, patting her thigh, and the dog moved to her side, tail wagging. “Let’s get out of here.”
Lucy moved almost silently, sticking close to buildings, gun held close to her body, muzzle pointed forward. She knew what she was doing, that much was sure. Who had taught her how to shoot? Him? The people in her Vault? How long had she lived in a Vault? How long ago had the bombs dropped?
She limped as she walked, and he found himself looking at that gash on her arm, and the one on her leg. The blood dripping down her cheek. She looked exhausted. He moved closer, gun ready, unable to help the way he looked around at the dilapidated buildings and broken down, rusting cars. This was the end of the world, he thought. This was what Barb had done. Just the thought of her made his stomach turn. Lucy was helping him look for his family. Did she mean Barb? Or Janey? What had happened to Janey?
The gunfire exploded behind them and Cooper grabbed Lucy’s arm, pushing her towards the doorway of the building they were passing, spinning and aiming with his shotgun, but they were too far away…he needed…
Before he’d even completed the thought, he was drawing the pistol on his hip, like his body knew what it was doing before he did. Lucy fired as he did, the two of them taking turns leaning around the doorway to shoot, but the monsters kept ducking out of the way before their bullets could land. Four shots in, Lucy’s gun went silent, and she dropped it with a whispered “gosh dang it” that made the corner of his mouth twitch into an absent smile as the two of them hid in the front room of whatever room this was supposed to be. Maybe a living room? A kitchen? He gave it a quick once over before turning back to her.
“Here.” He held out the pistol, pressing it into her hand when she just stared at it, then pulled out his shotgun. “I’ll try to get closer.”
She nodded, still looking unsure. Then the dog that he was pretty sure she’d called ‘Dogmeat’ growled, racing through the door before Lucy could reach out and grab for her.
“No…Dogmeat!”
She threw herself through the door, following behind the dog before Cooper could reach out and grab for her , only for the woman to skid to a stop, bringing his pistol up and firing at the monster that was approaching. No…two monsters. They had cunning dark eyes and oddly human faces despite the green skin, with muscles like bodybuilders and strange makeshift armor, and for a moment he could only stare in disbelief. What the fuck were they? Not human…but…maybe they had been? Had radiation done this to them?
Lucy’s bullet had ripped into the taller monster’s side, but it seemed unconcerned with her, going after Dogmeat instead. The dog snarled at them, biting at their legs and dancing around, dodging when they kicked and swatted at her, and Lucy backed away, firing again, this bullet clipping the monster’s head.
Cooper fired, trying to keep both of them in his sights, and he’d say this for his shotgun, it packed a punch. The shell tore a hole through the chest of the shorter monster, and for just a second, it felt like he was wearing that power armor again…but then Dogmeat yelped, the butt of a gun slamming down into her back and dropping her to the ground, and Lucy fired again, her bullet hitting the thing square in the chest, only Cooper should have given her the shotgun because as powerful as the pistol was, it only slowed the monster for a second.
He scrambled to break open the shotgun’s barrel, and held it up so the two empty casings could fall out. Lucy threw herself between Dogmeat who whimpered on the ground, dragging herself out of the way, and brought the gun up, but not quick enough. The monster slammed the butt of its gun into Lucy’s side, and when she hit the ground, Cooper felt his heart lodge in his throat…felt his fingers fumble as he yanked one shell and then another out of his bandolier. The pistol he’d given her slid along the ground and she lunged for it. He shoved one of the shells into place, then the other, and the monster’s foot came down on Lucy’s wrist.
Her scream made his blood freeze in his veins for a second…but then it was like the entire world came to a halt around him, his vision narrowing down to a single point. Lucy. All he could see was Lucy and the monster that aimed its gun at her, lips pulled back in a vicious smile. She yanked her hunting knife out of the holster on her thigh with her left hand, plunging it into the monster’s leg twice before, teeth bared, Cooper managed to snap the barrel shut, take aim, and blow a hole in the monster’s head.
She yanked her hand back with a groan, cradling it to her chest, and Cooper dropped to his knee at her side.
“Dogmeat,” she bit out, digging in her pocket and pulling out a wad of cloth she struggled to unwrap.
“Here,” he murmured. “Let me.” He took it, unwrapping the cloth and pulling out a StimPack. So there were still StimPacks. That was good, at least. Lucy held up a hand, shaking her head when he started to use it on her.
“No…Dogmeat.”
“Lucy…” he started, heart aching at the whimpering cries of the dog, but she was hurt!
“No,” she said again, shaking her head. “No. Give it to Dogmeat. I’m fine.”
“You need…”
“It’s mine,” Lucy snapped, fire in her eyes as she sat up. “And I want to give it to her.”
Cooper could see, suddenly, how the two of them might fight. But he was finding it difficult to be angry with her when she was clutching her hand to her chest and bleeding, her whole body shaking a little. So, with a sigh, Cooper turned and stroked one of his strange, scarred hands over the dog’s side. “Okay. Hang on, girl,” he murmured, plunging the needle into the muscle of her back leg and depressing the plunger.
And less than ten seconds later, her tail started to wag, nose going immediately to nudge against Lucy who gave her a teary-eyed smile, wrapping her good arm around the dog’s body. “Good girl,” she whispered, nuzzling her nose into Dogmeat’s fur. “You did so good.”
He reached out, catching her right arm. “Let me see,” he urged softly.
Lucy hesitated, then shook her head. “That’s okay. I’ll wrap it when we get back to camp. I think it's just sprained.”
Sighing, he let his hand fall. “Alright,” he gave in. She was stubborn. She was a fierce fighter. She loved her dog. She was so fucking beautiful.
She meant something to him. His first instinct had been to protect her, even when faced with literal monsters.
Cooper forced his eyes away from her…forced himself to look down at himself again. He was carrying a lot of shit…a saddlebag and the guns and a knife…and a canteen. He grabbed it, the liquid sloshing around inside, and when he opened it and brought it to his mouth, he found it full of lukewarm water. He could have drank the whole thing…it was so fucking hot, the sun beating down on them like they were in the desert. Instead, he held it out to Lucy.
She stared at the canteen between them, lips pressed together in a tight line.
“Here,” he urged. “You’ve got to be thirsty.”
Slowly, she reached out and took it with her left hand, watching him the whole time she brought it up to her mouth like he might just snatch it back. Finally, though, she took a long drink, eyes closing in something like relief, and Jesus Christ, what the fuck did he do to her? When she held it out to him again, water droplets he couldn’t tear his eyes away from clinging to her lips, she gave him a weak smile.
“Thank you.”
He nodded. “Come on, darlin’. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
She nodded, taking the hand he held out to her and standing on shaky legs. He started to reach out…to wrap an arm around her to support her. But she steadied herself, giving her head a little shake before she reached down and grabbed his gun, holding it out to him, grip first.
“Keep it. Yours is empty.”
Hesitating for only a second, she nodded, then turned and led the way back to camp.
They found her pack and sleeping bag lodged under a boulder, the remnants of a fire the only other sign that they’d apparently slept here. Lucy threw her bag over her shoulder, wincing, and Cooper took a seat on the boulder she’d pulled the pack out from under. Cocking her head, she stared down at him, uncertain.
“Um…we…we should probably go.”
“Sure thing, darlin’,” he agreed easily, pulling the bag off his shoulder. When he glanced up at her, she just tilted her head, seeming puzzled. “Any idea why I carry a saddlebag?”
“What’s a saddlebag?”
He lifted a brow. “This is a saddlebag.” He tapped the leather, opening the bag and pulling out a box that clinked. Inside were little bottles full of amber liquid…the same as the one that had been in his inhaler before. There were about twelve, he realized, and closed the box. So he’d been kept alive because of radiation…or something. Apparently this was part of it. Or maybe he just had asthma now. Searching around the pocket of the bag, he found a sewing kit, along with some dried meat. Cooper searched the other side, then smiled and pulled out another StimPack. “This ought to help. Let’s wrap your wrist and we can use this,” he told her, holding it up. “One for the dog, one for you.”
Lucy’s eyes widened and, to his surprise and no small amount of confusion, she shook her head, holding her hand up and taking a step back. “No.”
“Are you allergic to these or something?” he asked, pushing himself to his feet. She took another step back and he froze, not able to stand the sight of that. “Hey…I’m not going to hurt you,” he told her softly, sitting back down.
“You don’t want to give that to me.”
“What?”
She bit her lip, seeming conflicted. “You…you think you do, but I promise, you wouldn’t want to. Keep it. I promise, I’m fine.”
“Are you serious?”
Lucy nodded. “You might need it.” She was so earnest…she genuinely believed that he’d rather save a StimPack on the off chance that he’d need it later than use it to help her when she was actively bleeding.
“If I hate you so much, Lucy MacLean, then why did I come after you?”
She swallowed, dropping her eyes. “I never said you hated me. You…we…we just travel together. We’re not friends or anything. And…you’re being nice to me because you don’t remember. But…when you remember…you’ll be mad that you used it on me.”
“Well then, I’ll only have myself to blame.” He patted the boulder next to him. “Come on, Lucy. The quicker we get you fixed up, the quicker we can get going. Then you can tell me all about what life in a Vault was like. Unless you’ve already told me.”
She hesitated for another second…seemed like she might argue. But then, slowly, she approached, sitting down beside him. “I promise, I’m fine. I just…”
“How long did you live in a Vault?” he wondered, cutting her off with a little smile and ignoring the look she shot him. Instead, he took her right arm and inserted the needle right below the gash there, pushing down on the plunger. She winced.
“My whole life,” she told him, and he glanced up from where he’d been watching the skin of her arm knit back together.
“How old are you?”
“Twenty six.”
He frowned at that. “The bombs fell twenty six years ago?” He chuckled a little, shaking his head incredulously because it was that or start screaming. “Jesus, that makes me…what…seventy years old?”
He didn’t let himself think of Janey. He couldn’t.
She stared at him, biting down on her soft lower lip. “No…um…longer.”
“You have a first aid kit in there?”
She nodded, pulling the pack off of her shoulders, and he opened it, reaching past bottles of water and a spare clip for her pistol and finally pulling out a box with a red cross on it. Inside, he found a pill bottle…RadX. A pouch of RadAway too. And a roll of bandages. He grabbed them, setting the box aside, then took her arm, running careful, scarred fingers over her wrist. She allowed it, but she didn’t look at him. The bruise hadn’t fully bloomed yet, but he could see from the way she winced that it still hurt, and probably would for a while. Not broken though.
“When did the bombs fall?”
“2077.”
So…a year after he’d found out about Vault Tec’s plan. Slowly, he nodded, wrapping the bandage around her wrist, careful to make it tight enough to immobilize her hand but not enough to cut off the circulation.
“How’s that?”
She nodded, lips in a tight line, but he saw how they trembled…heard her shuddering breath.
“Too tight?”
Lucy shook her head.
“You hurt anywhere else?”
She shook her head again, and he started to give up…to let go of her wrist. Instead, something made him take her hand, squeezing it gently in his own, and she closed her eyes, turning her face away, but not before he saw a tear run down her cheek. He was going to let go. Maybe he was hurting her. Or maybe she really just didn’t like him.
But then Lucy wrapped her fingers around his, squeezing hard for just a second. “Thank you,” she all but whispered.
“Any time, darlin’.” He vowed that it would be true, because surely he didn’t hate this woman, even if they fought sometimes. Even if she was too stubborn and too young and too beautiful.
“So…the bombs fell in 2077?”
She nodded, her hand still in his. He found he didn’t want to let go.
“What year is it now?”
Lucy looked up at him, her teeth digging into her lip for just a second. Then, in a soft, almost gentle voice, “it’s…2296.”
His hand stilled on hers, and he felt himself flinch as if she’d punched him in the gut. 2296. Somehow that was harder than knowing the bombs had dropped. “Janey,” he whispered, voice coming out a pained breath. “What happened to Janey?”
Lucy shook her head. “I…I don’t know who that is. I just know you’re looking for your family.” When he was quiet, she went on. “Is she your wife?”
“My daughter…my little girl. She’s…she was only six. What…”
It had been over 200 years. Janey…his Janey…
A hot tear trailed down his face, breath catching.
Janey.
Lucy squeezed his hand. “Um…you thought my dad knew. Because…he’s from before the war too. I didn’t know…he lied to me. My whole life. But…he worked for Vault Tec and he…” She closed her eyes, shaking her head a little. “He knew. He knew that there were people out here and he…he knew that Vault Tec dropped the bombs. He killed my mom when she found out. And he was going to take me back to the Vault but you…you stopped him. He was scared of you,” she told him with a little smile. “I think you knew each other.”
Slowly, he nodded. Right…so her father had been alive before the war and…and he was alive still? And he was obviously still alive. “Wait…MacLean?” he asked, voice hoarse.
“Yes. My dad’s name is Hank. Henry. You…you said my dad used to work for your wife. You said he picked up her…dry cleaning?”
It hit him then, the assistant. “Ah,” he whispered, nodding to himself, vaguely aware of wetness on his face and a strange feeling in his nose. “Young Henry.”
“So…my dad, um…he’s only fifty five. I mean, I know he’s older. But he only looks fifty five. So…I think, somehow, some people…I don’t know,” she admitted. “But somehow, some people stayed alive. Like…the same age. So, maybe your daughter did too.” She squeezed his hand, then rested her other hand on his. “We’ll find out. We’ll find my dad, and we’ll make him tell us. We’ll find your daughter. I promise. ”
Cooper believed her. He didn’t know why. But there was something in her eyes…something that told him she wasn’t going to quit…not until she finished what she started. And for some reason, that made him feel better. “Sounds like a plan,” he told her, trying for a smile.
She smiled back at him then, earnest and so sweet…so hopeful, and something in his chest loosened.
“Any chance you know where your daddy is?”
“You thought he was in a place called New Vegas. We stopped a few times and you talked to people…I’m not really sure who, but that’s where you said we were headed.”
“Alright then. You know the way?”
Lucy nodded, holding up her PipBoy. “I found the old city on the map and I think New Vegas is in the same place.”
“Well, let’s get moving, and hopefully I remember some of this soon.”
Her smile dimmed at that, but she nodded, standing and shouldering her bag once more.
They walked all day, Lucy telling him stories about the Vault along the way. She told him about a childhood underground…about a mother lost to a famine, only to learn that she’d been killed by her father instead. She told him about her little brother Norman and her best friend Steph. And then she told him about how her father had been kidnapped by a woman named Lee Moldaver, and how Lucy had left the Vault to go after her. She didn’t tell him the specifics of how exactly Moldaver had gotten into the Vault, but he didn’t ask.
Still, even as the hours passed, Lucy seemed reluctant to talk. But he kept asking her questions, anything to take his mind off of the headache that had started as a sharp stabbing agony and was now a dull, constant throbbing…and thoughts of Janey…thoughts of a mushroom cloud over a city…of riding on a horse, his daughter in his arms. It was hazy, all of it, and even trying to remember made the pounding in his head worse, so he didn’t. Instead, he asked Lucy questions about her Vault…Vault 33. He didn’t know much about that one in particular, but it must have been one of the good ones. Hesitantly, she answered them, telling him vague stories about birthday parties and social clubs and a cornfield in a room with a projection of fields and the sun…the only sun she’d seen for the first twenty six years of her life.
He couldn’t even begin to imagine a life like that. But she’d never known anything else.
Until now.
“And how exactly did we meet?” he wondered when they stopped for the evening, looking up from the piece of dried meat in his hand.
Lucy refused to look at him, just stared out into the darkness, tossing a piece of meat to Dogmeat who snatched it out of the air before resting her head on Cooper’s knee. He rubbed her back, thinking of Roosevelt and then forcing his mind back to the present instead. Not now…not yet. He wasn’t ready to think about that.
“Um…we had…a mutual acquaintance. And then we…traveled together for a while.”
“Oh, we’ve done this before?”
“Kind of.”
“What aren’t you telling me?” he wondered.
Lucy shook her head, taking one last bite of jerky before throwing the rest to Dogmeat, then she got up and kicked dirt over the fire. “I’ll tell you about it tomorrow. Let’s go to bed.”
He didn’t argue…didn’t want to push her. Something had obviously happened between them…something bad. He couldn’t imagine that he’d hurt her. He wasn’t that kind of man…never had been. So…they’d had some kind of disagreement? Lucy gave him no clues, just climbed into her sleeping bag. Cooper stretched out on the ground, tilting his hat over his face and closing his eyes.
And when his dreams started, they were like a slideshow moving too fast, memories flashing by so quickly he could barely take them in.
He dreamed of a woman’s voice in his ear.
“By dropping the bombs ourselves.”
He dreamed of a birthday party…of a rope in his hand, over his head, and the applause of children. A slice of cake for his little girl he’d had to ask permission to take because he wasn’t a guest…he was the hired help.
“Your thumb or mine?”
A rope in his hand again…a woman in a Vault suit tied up…his hand yanking Lucy back as she coughed and spluttered, her whole body suspended over a lake. Then dropping her back down.
“You can’t treat people like this!”
Her silhouetted over him, a gun in her hand, her cold eyes staring down at him. And knowing…knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt, that his time had come. That he was going to die, and that this woman was fully justified in killing him. That he’d never see his little girl again.
But then…a handful of vials placed by his hand.
“Golden rule, motherfucker.”
He dreamed about an invitation then. Her footsteps behind him. A trip across the wastes, tracking a man in power armor. Long stretches of silence between them. The fights when she wouldn’t listen to him…becuase she refused to just fucking listen to him. Because she didn’t trust him. And why would she? Why would he ever even try for something like friendship with her?
Her hands around his, her gaze softer than he’d ever seen it. “We’ll find your daughter. I promise.”
Cooper’s eyes flew open, a ragged gasp that led to a coughing fit sending him searching for his inhaler as he struggled to sit up. Yanking the inhaler out of his jacket and then loading up a vial, he took a long, deep breath.
“Are you okay?”
“Fine,” he barked, rubbing his head irritably when the throbbing lingered.
And Lucy knew right away. He could see it in the way she stiffened…in the way something in her eyes died.
Before he could even begin to think about what to say, she lay back down, her back to him, and for just a second, he was fooled. Everything was back to normal, which for them meant Lucy not trusting him and him reluctantly making sure she didn’t get herself killed. She could handle herself fine, that’s what he told himself most days. They were just walking in the same direction. There was no point in trying to get to know the Vaultie…soon enough, they’d go their separate ways.
But then he saw how her shoulders shook…heard her muffled breaths as she tried to stay quiet, and god fucking damn it if it wasn’t like an ice pick to his chest. He was supposed to be angry with her. She’d been stupid. She hadn’t listened. She’d nearly gotten them both killed.
She’d saved his life. She’d pulled out a hunting knife to fight a super mutant to try and protect him. He’d been nothing but curt with her, and that had been on a good day, and sure she’d seemed fine and she’d fought with him plenty of times, seemingly ready to argue at every turn, but that look on her face when he’d been kind to her…when he’d forgotten everything between his last month as Cooper Howard the man and who he was now…the way she’d seemed so hopeful…
The ice pick in his chest twisted.
She’d smiled at him, so genuine. How long since someone had smiled at him like that? Since someone had touched him that didn’t want to kill him? Or, maybe fuck him, and then possibly kill him and take his shit?
And nope…he couldn’t fucking stand this. He couldn’t lay there and listen to her pretend not to cry because she was sad and probably lonely and probably scared and because her whole world had collapsed around her and now the only person she could rely on was a ghoul that she was convinced hated her…hated her enough that he wouldn’t even give her a StimPack when she was hurt.
She’d thought he’d be mad…that he wouldn’t want to use his last StimPack on her.
He couldn’t be Cooper Howard again…at least, not the Cooper Howard he’d been before. But he could be something other than the Ghoul, couldn’t he? He could at least try.
Cooper pushed himself to his feet, tucking his inhaler away and patting Dogmeat on the head, feeling just a moment of relief that Lucy had insisted on giving her the StimPack when she’d been hurt. Then, crossing the distance between them, he sat beside her, settling down by her back and staring out into the darkness. She didn’t move…seemed to hold her breath.
“Well, I guess I ought to thank you for saving my life, although, to be fair, it was your fault for putting us in danger in the first place.” He tried to make his voice light, but she just curled up tighter.
“No one made you come after me,” she snapped, voice wobbling, but his little killer was a fighter to the end, he’d give her that.
“I suppose I could have just let you die. Could have kept your stuff too.”
“I would have been fine.”
“Oh yeah. I’m sure that suit of yours is missile proof.”
She just scoffed.
He leaned his head back, staring up at the stars. “Nah…I couldn’t have let you go on your own, sweetheart. I’m used to having you around. It would have been a pain to lose you now.” He let his hand rest on her shoulder, feeling her go absolutely rigid like a dog waiting for a blow, and the ice pick twisted again. Still, after a long moment, she took a breath, then another, her body relaxing inch by inch until she was just lying there beside him, breath hitching occasionally with the tears she’d tried to hide.
Then, so soft he could barely hear it, “I’m sorry.”
“Good. Does that mean you won’t be going off on your own again?”
“Not for that.”
“Of course not,” he grumbled, lips twitching into a wry smile.
“For what you told me. I know you didn’t mean to.”
He sighed. “Well, I guess you really ought to know my name by now. I know yours after all.”
“Is that really your name?”
“What, you think I got hit in the head and started hallucinating that I was a washed up, b list movie star?”
She bristled. “You were not a b list movie star!”
He felt his eyes go wide. “Oh really?”
“Of course not! Cooper Howard was…he was…amazing! He was so good in every movie! He was a hero! You were a hero!” She finally rolled over, sitting up on her elbows and staring up at him with red-rimmed eyes. “I love your movies,” she all but whispered, the words some kind of plea.
“Huh. Let me guess, your daddy had my whole collection down there?”
She nodded. “Yes. We watched them all the time. I loved them.”
His lips twitched. “I ain’t him anymore, sweetheart.”
Her whole face dropped, head nodding a few times before she dropped back onto the ground, and he rested his hand on her arm once more. “I know,” she whispered.
He wasn’t. He couldn’t be.
But he didn’t think he was just the Ghoul anymore either. Because as hard as he’d fought it, tooth and fucking nail, Lucy MacLean was important to him now. He cared about this woman, and he’d never been able to bear seeing the people he cared about cry.
“Lucy?”
“What?” she asked, tired and sad and defeated but still, she’d keep going because she was strong like he was. Maybe stronger.
“Thank you for saving my life back there.”
She just shrugged. “You saved me first.”
“Yeah. And I’ll save you the next time you do something stupid too. And the next, I reckon.” He squeezed her arm through the bedroll, Cooper Howard fighting the Ghoul for the words that would make her understand. It had been too fucking long since anyone had been important to him…even longer since he’d had to spell it out. “You know, when I woke up, I thought you were an extra in the movie…and that I was an asshole for forgetting your name. Used to, we’d work with all kinds of people. Lots of extras. The ones that didn’t talk got paid less. But I thought your makeup was so good, you must have had a speaking part.”
She tilted her head towards him, obviously listening without looking up at him.
“I couldn’t remember your name, but I knew that you were important to me.”
That had her looking right at him, and even in the dim light from the moon, with dirt and blood smudged on her face, she was so goddamn beautiful. Still, if he’d thought he was too old for her before, he was really too old for her now, surely.
For some reason, that didn’t make the thought go away.
“And if I knew that when I didn’t even know the fucking world had ended, well…it must mean something.”
Lucy didn’t respond…probably didn’t know how to. But she did get that look on her face again…the hopeful one.
Cooper patted her arm through the sleeping bag, then let it rest there for a long moment. She’d relaxed, her breaths soft and even, and somehow, that felt like a gift. “Go back to sleep, Vaultie. We ought to be close to a settlement…we’ll get some more StimPacks tomorrow. Water too.”
Her sleeping bag rustled as she nodded, murmuring a soft “okay.”
He forced himself to his feet, for some reason not trusting his hand on her arm anymore…not trusting himself to sit beside her because the feeling of her next to him…trusting him…it did something to him. Something he wasn’t ready to think about. So he settled down in his spot on the ground once more, hat tilted over his head, Dogmeat curled up beside him, and closed his eyes, hoping to catch at least a few more hours before they had to get moving.
Then, a quiet, almost hopeful “Goodnight.”
The side of his mouth pulled into a smile so soft it felt foreign on his face. “Night, sweetheart.”