Chapter Text
"Oh, fuck!" Jay exclaimed as they perched atop a table, taking potshots at the giant roaches that had been particularly keen on snacking on their Achilles’ and failing miserably to figure out how the goddamn VATS worked.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" They punctuated each curse by beating the shit out of the insects, smashing their heads with the butt of the pistol when they’d run out of bullets. Breathing heavily, they glared at the little dead things scattered around and cautiously climbed down from the table, completely unprepared for literally everything that was happening. God, so fucking unprepared.
"I’m just a fucking lawyer," they muttered shakily, "and, and everyone’s dead, and my fucking knowledge of East Coast Patent Laws isn’t gonna fucking help me here!" Their voice rose, ringing off the metal of the shitty fucking Vault, as if God or whatever higher power would hear them and be like ‘Whoops, you’re completely right! Let me just bring you right on back to where you belong, sorry about that!’ But no such fucking luck.
They shuffled through the hallways of the big metal maze, jumping and grumbling when nothing was there and avoiding looking at the tubes they’d emerged from minutes before. At this point they had the place memorized, pacing the dingy halls, so when none of the skeletons jumped up to attack and every last console was read and every locker was opened, they made their way back.
The rise and fall of the sad, furious rollercoaster in their chest finally died down to a reasonable level and eventually, it boiled down to them pacing back and forth across the doorway with their eyes glued to their feet and their fingers wrapped tightly around an empty gun. They stopped at the cryostasis room, took a very deep breath and looked in.
Half an hour ago it was filled with people. The walls were spotless and the floor was clean. A scientist had handed them their Vault suit, their favourite shade of blue. They wanted to vomit. They wanted to cry. They wanted to move, just fucking move, you stupid fuck, just walk to your fucking wife!
Jarred out of it, Jay stumbled across the threshold and walked towards the pod at the end, picking up the pace with their heart thrumming as they wound up breaking into a sprint the last couple of feet, gripping the edge of the pod as it jolted them to a rough stop, hot tears spilling down their cheeks, as if they were hoping Nora would be awake and shout "BOO! I gotcha!" like she had that morning when they’d rounded the corner to the bathroom.
Oh God, they couldn’t breathe, no matter how their throat burned to sob, it all stopped and froze again, gazing at Nora’s pretty face, God it almost looked like she was smiling, why was she smiling!?
Jay was on their knees again, gripping for dear life to the cryopod, to Nora’s leg, to any sense of control they had over the situation. When had the gun fallen, they wondered, eyes wide and brimming and wet as their knee painfully pinned the pistol to the ground, but they didn’t fucking care, why fucking care, Christ they wanted to die. Why Nora, no, no, God, why Nora, why take Nora? She’s the one who knows how to shoot a gun, she’s the one who fought in the war, that had tried to teach them to defend themselves and wound up in a giggling heap, she could do it, she could find Shaun, she couldn’t die, she couldn’t, she couldn’t.
"SHE COULDN’T FUCKING DIE!" Jay screamed into the ground with their face scrunched up in an ugly cry, punching the door of the pod before shrieking in pain. They gripped at their wrist, their knuckles probably bruised to hell, and they doubled over themselves, finally having let go of their vice-like grip on the corpse. It was enough to shake them out of the hiccuping loop that they were in, however, and slowly, ever so slowly, the sobbing stopped. A human puddle, yeah, that’s a good word to describe it. Their face wet, their nose running. It was probably everywhere, fuck, it was probably on Nora.
"Sorry," they croaked and their lungs caught again, half expecting the usual reassurance. Luckily, after holding their breath and letting a few more tears seep out, they regained their newfound composure and tried to find their footing. It was like a baby deer standing for the first time, sloppy but manageable, and they didn’t look up lest they get a repeat performance of the breakdown.
A glint made them pause and their eyes landed heavily on the ring that encircled Nora’s finger. Should, should they take it? The last expression of love they might find in the wasteland, wrapped around their wife’s finger? A nasty cringe, of course not, they didn’t want to, surely it’d be safe here, with her? But then, they hadn’t been safe here, she hadn’t been safe here. People got in, who had gotten in was a different matter. Where they went was even more enticing, and what they’re gonna do when they fucking find them became the Special of the Day.
And now this… this was it, they were leaving. They had all the shit they could find, scavenged their old glasses from their locker and twisted the Pipboy on their wrist to see if it had any give. It was massive and clunky but as soon as they figured out how to work it they’d be clear as crystal. Jay knew when something was useful and a Pipboy, well, nothing could beat a Pipboy.
Gently running their thumb over the smooth, cold metal of the ring now wrapped around their right little finger, they activated the huge round elevator that had dragged them down into this filthy tomb that tore everything from them, but not before the bombs had obliterated everything else. Holding their breath they breached the top, blinded by the sun. They freed their lungs to the fresh air as they gazed over the Sanctuary they’d left behind.
Something was wrong. Immediately, something was wrong, what was wrong, what was fucking wrong?! The trees were green and sharp, the colors of the crisp houses of the neighbourhood stretched beyond them were bright and freshly painted. This wasn’t what the wasteland looked like, this was wrong, something was very wrong.
They staggered a few steps back, preparing to run as they looked on with wide, horrified eyes. The bombs fell over Boston, the mushroom cloud impossibly large and all-encompassing and Jay watched, unable to do anything as the heatwave flew towards them, feeling their body grow hot and burn away.