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Tomorrow, so they say, will be a lovely day
The bright new sun will suddenly break through.
But I don’t want to see tomorrow, unless I see it with you...
The night before the vault reassignment to 32, Woody was having trouble settling down for bed.
He’d packed his things into a crate, triple-checking his list he’d made on his Pip Boy to make sure he hadn’t forgotten any essentials. It had surprised him just how few items were actually his in this vault to take. His spare jumpsuit of course, pajamas, shoes and socks, gloves, his journal, prescribed medications, a falling apart copy of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein that had been the last birthday gift from his late father, and some framed family photos. But he still felt like something was missing… like he was going to leave something important behind.
A piece of himself would always be here, he supposed. Besides the family starter unit he’d grown up in, this was the only room Woody had ever known as his own. It was bizarre, to say the least, contemplating that tomorrow he’d be in a new place. That just-- didn’t happen around here. New places. None of his surviving extended family was going to 32, either… only he had been chosen to leave. His elderly aunts and uncle promised to message him often, but still, it felt so unfair to be separated from them.
He was listening to the radio with only his smallest night light on, knowing it was well into quiet hours when music wasn’t allowed. It was considered rude to his next door neighbors, and the hallway in general due to the vent system.
Right now he needed to remember what it was like to be in this room. He wasn’t ready for tonight to end.
And he wanted people to know he was sad, because people blared the radio these days when they were so depressed they didn’t know what else to do but sing along or simply let it wash over them in silence. It had been a much rarer occurrence before the raiders massacred a bunch of people.
After a few minutes there was a soft knock at the vault door: Woody opened it to see Reg in his pajamas.
“Hey, buddy.” Reg stepped inside and placed a gentle hand on Woody’s arm.
“You know the rules about the radio, I can hear it through the wall. What’s up?”
“I’m sad and I don’t know what to do about it Reg. I don’t want to go to 32,” Woody blurted out, scared.
“Oh, Woody. I would feel that way too if I were in your position,” Reg said with sympathy, even as he went to turn the radio off.
“It’s scary to move, especially under such tragic circumstances. But we need 32’s resources to survive right now. You’ll be remembered in vault pioneer history as heroes who helped stretch our water rations until we can fix the chip.”
He closed the vault door behind him so that they could sit together on Woody’s couch with some privacy. “Or maybe Lucy will bring back a new one, who knows. Stranger things keep happening every day.”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m worried about,” Woody said glumly, unable to appreciate Reg’s pie-in-the-sky optimism tonight.
“I can’t just-- go to bed knowing it’s my last night here.” Woody wrung his hands in his lap.
“It’s like, maybe if I don’t go to sleep, then tonight won’t end, and then I won’t have to go. To whatever messed up stuff is waiting for me in 32.”
Reg sighed, nodding slowly. “Yeah. I get that. But 32 isn’t messed up any more, we saw it.”
“Yeah I know. It’s just, not our vault.”
“Yeah,” Reg agreed. “I hear you. I do.”
“Can you-- stay a while? We can watch some holotapes with the volume down or something…”
“We can just chat if you’d like,” Reg said, still sitting close enough that he could easily pat Woody’s knee.
“I-- I’m gonna miss you too buddy. I haven’t really acknowledged it until this moment, but, it’s gonna be lonely not having you as a neighbor.”
There was a tense pause, then Woody asked in a choked voice, “Reg, would you be opposed to some platonic cuddling? I think that’s-- what I want more than anything.”
Both men were grateful Woody’s main lights were off, so that neither saw the other crying as they hugged on the couch.
If they heard sniffles, neither one mentioned it. Woody buried his head in Reg’s shoulder, feeling reassured by the man’s warm hands on his back. He’d never been held by his friend this way, but somehow they both understood without discussing that this moment was different than their usual. That they were experiencing something fleeting.
It was too overwhelming to process that he wouldn’t be here tomorrow, or ever again, so Woody let himself get lost in the warmth of Reg’s arms for a while, his brain soothed on a deep core level even as he trembled with emotion. He felt Reg shake too, a hot tear splashing his bald spot, but Woody didn’t acknowledge this out loud for fear that his friend would pull away.
“Reg,” Woody said hoarsely when he’d finally stopped leaking out of his eyes.
“Hm.”
“Did you really mean what you said earlier, or were you just being nice to me because I’m upset?”
“Which part? I mean everything I say to you, Woody,” Reg murmured into his hair.
“The part where you-- said we’ll be remembered. As vault pioneers.”
“Oh. Well sure, why wouldn’t we be? We’re keeping the flame of civilization lit.”
“But what if it doesn’t work?” Woody whispered.
“What if we’re stamped out right away by the likes of those raiders? Look how easily they tricked us. Can we ever be safe out there? And if not, then what are we really doing in here? Just-- living out our lives in a metal cage? At least the creatures up on the surface are free to do what they please. They don’t have to deal with vault reassignments.”
“I don’t know. I don’t know.” Reg sighed and gave up on trying to answer, letting his touch speak for him as he rubbed Woody’s back.
Woody sighed too, feeling more hopeless than he ever had in over three decades of life. At least Reg’s touch was keeping him calm enough to not go completely insane with terror.
“Promise me you won’t forget to write,” Woody said at last, and he felt Reg nod against him.
“Course I won’t forget. I’ll message you so much you’ll get sick of me.”
“Thanks.” Woody’s body was getting stiff in all the wrong places from sitting for so long.
“Okay, I gotta get up and stretch, but-- I know this is a weird ask, but would you be interested in sleeping over?”
Reg chuckled softly, his face obscured in the dark room. “Sure, why not. Shall I take the couch then?”
“Oh, I meant-- you could share the bed with me if you wanted. No pressure though,” Woody said as he turned down the covers and took his pajamas to his bathroom to change.
“Be right back.”
When he came out of the bathroom, Woody felt a thrill seeing Reg in his bed. It felt very right.
“Thank you. For not thinking I am completely nuts for needing this,” Woody said as he got into bed next to his friend and fellow council member.
“...I need it too,” was all Reg said before he pressed close again, switching their position this time so that he was the one huddled into Woody’s shoulder and chest.
Woody put his arms around Reg to hold him, glad the feeling was mutual. Their breathing slowed and evened together until they were in sync.
“You think maybe you could talk with Betty to change the rules on inter-vault visits after this? I’ll talk to Steph too. We should see what 31 looks like,” Woody murmured sleepily, already feeling himself drift off now that he was comfortable and warm.
“Hmmm. Sure,” Reg agreed, also falling asleep.
“Maybe the triple vault set up wouldn’t feel so-- weird if we weren’t cut off from each other… if we could move around between the three. Talk to everybody all the time instead ‘f only through the Overseers.”
“Sounds nice.”
“Then you could come visit me.”
“Mmm.”
“G’night Reg.”
“Night Woody.”
Woody and Reg sank into a deep restful sleep the likes of which neither would experience again for a long time, dreaming of better days that seemed just out of reach.