Cruel World

Cruel World

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Cooper Howard x fem!reader A/N: I just realized the first episode of the show is titled The End lol, chapter one’s title makes so much more sense now. I’m a genius.  Also, I promise this isn’t going to be a copy and paste of the show. Just how this chapter is so I could set everything up.  (Let me know if you would like to be removed/added to my Cooper Howard taglist) Summary: After the shit show that was Lucy’s wedding, you’re trying to get your life back on track. But you should have known that she wouldn’t give up so easily on her father. You could stay in the vault, throw your name into consideration for Overseer. But you never wanted that. It’s a risky decision, one you’ll probably regret, but you decide to go with Lucy. Someone’s got to watch her back.

“Probably one of the best weddings we’ve ever attended.” Norm gives you a curt look, not even sparing you a smile at the comment. Maybe it was too soon, but you didn’t know how else to break the tension between the two of you. He returned his attention to wrapping up the wound on your side. 

He pulled the StimPak out of your med kit and you turned away from him as he plunged the needle into your tender flesh. He preferred to just get things over with, he wasn’t the type to count down to three and hold your hand. But he still offered you a comforting squeeze of the hand when he was done. 

He stood up, disposing of the used needle and coming back to sit beside you. He didn’t look at you, his shoulders slumped over as he stared down at his hands. If anything it felt like he was actively trying to avoid catching your eye. “Norm?” You questioned, voice bordering on concern as you reached out towards him. 

He shook his head and stood up, glaring down at the floor as his fists clenched by his sides. “I hid,” he muttered, voice dripping with disgust. Disgust directed at himself. You knew he was going to beat himself up about this for a while. And you couldn’t lie, couldn’t hide the fact that his cowardice had bothered you a little. Norm was never the type to appreciate white lies like that anyway. He didn’t want someone to stroke his ego, he wanted honesty. 

“You did,” you replied stoically. He scoffed, a humorless sound. “People react differently to fear, Norm.”

“You fought,” he snapped back, finally looking at you. He sounded angry, but you knew it wasn’t directed at you. “You fought for our friends and I hid under a picnic table.” You couldn’t comfort him the way you wanted to. You couldn’t tell him that you had been trained and coached for these sort of disaster scenarios. Vault 31 was full of leaders, fighters, and those coached for every possible mishap. 

Norm would never be as prepared as you, Steph, or any other Bud’s Bud would be. “I’m your husband,” you had to hold back a laugh at that. But he seemed to catch the sight of your upturned lips anyway. It caused some of the tension he was holding to leave him as he laughed. A small laugh, but real this time at least. He sunk back down into the chair by your bed and sighed. “I should have helped you, or protected you. Anything other than hide while you were nearly blown up and my dad was taken by raiders.”

You reach out, taking his hand and squeezing it in reassurance. “I’m no more your wife than you are my husband,” he offers you a weak smile and you grin back at him. “We both know we never wanted this, it was forced on us.”

“Gee,” he interrupts, sarcastically, “you sure know how to cheer a guy up.”

You roll your eyes and swat his hand, finally releasing him. “But, I’m glad it was you, Norm. If I had to be stuck in this fucking vault with someone, I’m glad it was you.”

For a moment, he looks genuinely touched. He opens his mouth and you almost expect a kind reply in response. Instead he says, “You mean you don’t love the amenities vault 33 has to offer you?”

You laugh, shoving his shoulder and wincing slightly at the pain it causes in your abdomen. “You’re such an ass.” 

He smiles at you and gets up to get you some water, sending you a fond look as he does. You mean it, Bud had done you a favor marrying Norm. No, you weren’t exactly in love with him. And he really wasn’t your husband in anything other than name. But he was a good friend and you were grateful for the company he provided you. 

A few days later, when everyone has recovered enough to be up and moving around. An assembly is called. You sit beside Norm and Lucy, taking in the destruction around you and shaking your head mutely. Things had been going so well. Three years and not a moment of discontent. 

It was getting fucking boring. 

If it weren’t for half your friends dying, you’d be grateful to the raiders for finally spicing things up a bit in here. Before everyone can fully settle in, Lucy is shooting to her feet and proclaiming, “I have a proposal for the assembly.” You glance up at her as everyone quiets and she looks around at them, a little uncomfortable at all the attention. “We send a search party to the surface to look for my dad.”

You huff, glancing over to Betty and catching her eye. She doesn’t do much, just a subtle quirk to her brow that you know means it’s never going to fucking happen. Around you everyone starts whispering, openly objecting to the idea. The whole point of this vault, as far as they know, is to one day go to the surface. 

Clearly, they were getting a little too happy within the comforts of the vault. “They don’t want to find dad,” Norm mutters and both you and Lucy turn to him. “If they did, they wouldn’t get to be in charge.” You turn away from him, back to Betty. You see the look on her face and you know he’s right. 

Getting released at the same time as Hank must have killed her. She’d always wanted to be the overseer, it’s what she was trained for. Being outvoted to Norm’s father had probably wrecked that volatile ego of hers. This was her chance, there was no way in hell she wasn’t going to take it. 

Lucy looks around at all of the frowning faces of your neighbors and you see something in her break a little. She’s got an endless optimism that, at times, can be fucking overwhelming. But you know it hurt to see the people she called friends give up on her father so easily. She straightens her shoulders and storms off, you share a look with Norm before getting up to follow after her. 

You really should have known someone as determined as her wouldn’t so easily give up. When you do finally find her, she’s already got a pack on her shoulders and is convincing Chet into opening up the outer door for her. “Lucy,” you hiss, grabbing her elbow before they can make it to the elevator. “What are you doing?”

She gives you a pleading look, taking her arm out of your hold and glancing back at a nervous Chet. “I need to find him, if they’re not going to help me,” she took a deep breath and steadied herself. “I’ll go to the surface on my own.”

Your brows furrowed and you gave her a questioning look, a little disbelieving that she would actually do something like this. She’d always been such a rule follower, the prodigal poster girl of the vaults. You suppose everyone has their limits, even her. 

Still, you give her pack a doubtful glare and forcefully turn her around. She shouts your name in shock as you rip her pack open and dig through it. “What are you doing?” Chet demands. 

You sigh at the lack of provisions she’s grabbed. You know that Bud had created lesson plans to create an idyllic vision of what the surface would look like when everyone goes back up. But, seriously, one canteen of water and a single pack of hard boiled eggs. Only one tranquilizer gun in sight, she was never going to make it on her own. 

“Lucy,” you turn her back around and stare into her abnormally large eyes. She’s all naïveté and hope, the surface is going to fucking break her. “You’re completely unprepared.”

She gapes, points to her pack and stutters. “I packed eggs.”

“An egg. One singular pack of eggs, Lucy. There’s no way in hell that’s going to be enough.” You sigh, mentally doing gymnastics as you try and assure yourself that what you’re about to say is the right thing to do. You’ve never liked the vaults, they’re too suffocating and too strict. You can’t do anything with Betty always setting her evil eye on you. You’re constantly harassed for not yet being pregnant by Steph, and sometimes Lucy, you don’t love your husband. 

Besides running water and air conditioning, which are pretty fucking vital, you’ve got nothing for you here. It’s the only reason you say the stupidest fucking thing you’ve ever said in your life. “I’m coming with you.” She opens her mouth to protest but you cut her off with a glare. “This is what I trained for in vault 31, Lucy. To go to the surface. It’s not ready for us yet, and you’re not ready for what’s waiting out there for you.” You step back from her, glaring at Chet until his face turns red. “Don’t leave without me, Chet, I fucking mean it.”

Before either of them can say anything and you can talk yourself out of this, you make a run for the armory. The raiders had taken pretty much everything of value. But you knew the code to the safe where some of the better guns are held. As cruel as it is to take what little weapons your vault has left, you’re going to need them more on the surface than they are down here. 

You grab one of the emergency packs by the door, stuffing it full of all the rations and water you can get your hands on. Lucy had packed more cozily, a nice bedroll and amenities to keep her comfortable. You’re focused solely on packing what you know won’t be available on the surface. 

You put on a belt full of ammo and type in the code to the safe. Bud, in all his infinite wisdom, was not very good at remembering his passwords. 313233, and it pops open as the little green light goes off. You take two pistols, knowing it’s better to pack light, and turn to leave. 

Betty is standing there at the doorway, a knowing smile on her face. 

You hate the training. You know it’s essential, that it’s better to be over prepared than under, but you hate it. You’re always partnered up with Hank and Betty, seeing as they’re more favored than the others by Bud. Betty can’t stand you, she’s under the misguided impression that you somehow bribed your way into the position you have as one of Bud’s Buds. 

Hank is fine, but he’s a beast when it comes to your self defense drills. He never goes easy on you, always pummeling you down with enough ferocity to make you just want to call it quits. But you know that’s just because he doesn’t settle for anything other than the best. His whole life is Vault-Tec, he’ll never let anything in his career be lacking. Even training. 

Betty goes after you harshly for different reasons. She’s never liked you, not once. She already has to compete with Hank one day for the position of Overseer, she just sees you as more competition. Except, to her, you’re not deserving of the title. 

It doesn’t matter how many times you tell her you wouldn’t fight her for the role, she doesn’t believe you. She thinks your assuasion is just a manipulation ploy to get her to put down her guard. You won’t be in the vaults for another year, but it doesn’t matter. She’s ready to go now, ready to finally be a leader and no longer another rung on the corporate ladder. 

You don’t think she understands that, no matter what, there’s always going to be someone to answer to. You don’t know what Bud’s plan is, exactly, but he would never give up control over his project or give up seeing it come to fruition. Her hopes of being in charge will never come true, but she doesn’t care. You, honestly, feel like she just wants an excuse to not like you. 

You duck under her fist as she swings at you and sweep out her legs. She slams harshly against the mat, breath knocked out of her with a wheeze. Hank stands on the sidelines, sweat pouring down his back as he takes a swig from your water bottle. You glare at him but he just sends you a cheeky smile. 

You roll your eyes as you step back from Betty’s prone form. Around you the other’s are training. Either in duos or trios. Bud has signed out the Vault-Tec gym for this. All he has to say is that it’s for his experiment and he can get away with pretty much anything in the company. 

While you watch Stephanie execute a violent elbow strike on Darren, your attention is off of Betty. She pounces, sweeping her legs behind your own from where she lays on the floor. Your balance is thrown as you’re tossed back. A similar wheeze to her own forces its way out of you as you cough, grabbing your sternum and trying to get your breath back. 

She gets to her feet as you roll over onto your side, trying to catch your breath. Sweat beads down your temple, dripping down into your eyes and stinging. You lift your hand, using your teeth to rip the Velcro of your boxing glove open and tugging it off. You wipe at your face as she walks over you, staring down at you with venom in her glaze. 

“Can’t sleep your way into actual skills, can you?” You stare up at her, wide eyed and aghast. Hank looks away from your both, embarrassment clear on his face. She gets up from you and walks away, tapping Hank in. He steps towards you, offering you a hand up, but you swat it away. 

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

You know she’s not going to stop you. She’s never had any faith in your survival skills or your intelligence in general. You step towards her and she steps to the side, making a little room for you to squeeze past her through the doorway. She wouldn’t stop you, either, because you’re just one more person to get out of the way. 

Everyone knows that it’s only people from vault 31 who ever make it to be overseer. Steph can’t compete, she’s pregnant and half blind from grief and losing her actual eye. You’re the only person left to combat her claim to the title. 

Her eyes bore into yours, the wrinkles around them turning up as she offers you a sardonic smile. She might be old now, but you still see that sharp fire of hatred in them anytime she looks at you. You think her drive keeps her young. 

You’re surprised when she speaks. Three years here and she’s barely spared you a word, beyond what was required of her. “You should see him before you go. He’ll want to see you one last time.” Anyone else might think she’s talking about your husband, but you know better. 

You glance at the clock on the wall, you’ve already been gone ten minutes. You glance back at Betty and you realize she’s right. You’ve had a question you’ve wanted an answer to for three years, you don’t ask now and you might never get the chance again. 

You slip past her without a word, shoulder jolting hers harshly as you pass. She simply huffs, shaking her head and calling out, “Good luck!” As you head down the hall. You ignore her, how snide she is. You hate how easy it is for her to burrow herself under your skin. 

It’s easy to make your way to the place where the vaults intersect. Everyone’s busy with cleaning up. They’re getting rid of the bodies of the fallen, painting over the blood, and taking stock of what was stolen and damaged. No one pays any mind to you as you slip through the halls with a pack on your back. 

You use the code Bud had given you to get into the vault, silencing the alarms and glancing over your shoulder to double check no one was spying on you. The metal creaks loudly as it slowly rolls over the platform and slides open. You take a peek inside, peering around containers full of supplies and looking for a brain rolling around. 

It doesn’t take long for you to hear his wheels going over the metal grates of the floors. “Who’s there?” He shouts, not turning the corner yet. You know he’s trying to sound bigger than he is, to scare off any kids who might come snooping around the vaults. It’s happened before, you and Steph having to do damage control by dosing them with some drugs and telling everyone they were high. 

“It’s me!” You call back. 

He calls out your name eagerly, turning the corner too quick and his voice a little happier than usual. He’s not paying enough attention, though, and knocks into a broom. It goes crashing down on his dome with a loud bang and your face screws up as it blocks his way. His wheels bump into it and he bounces back reflexively, “What is this?” He mutters. 

You let him struggle for a little bit, slightly entertained by the sight of him repeatedly ramming into the handle of the broom. A brain on a fucking roomba. What had he been thinking?

When the sight of him struggling loses its novelty you walk forward and toss the broom out of the way. He sighs, “Thank you.” He rights himself, the brain now facing you. “What brings you here? I heard about the incident with the raiders but Betty assured me she had it under control.”

You know that if you told him right now that you doubted Betty’s competence, he would put you in charge. Or Steph. He would always listen to you over any of them, maybe that’s why she hated you so much. He would always favor you over her. Still, you can’t find it in yourself to be as petty as you’d like. You simply sigh, shaking your head even though he can’t see it. “No, it’s not that.”

“Okay,” he drags the word out, sounding unsure about why you bothered coming to see him. You briefly consider telling him the truth, that you’re leaving with Lucy and you won’t be coming back anytime soon. But you know he would only try to stop you. He’d use the same tranquilizer he used on the people who snooped and somehow get you back in a pod. 

Instead you ask him what’s been on your mind for three years. “Why’d you let me out?” You hear a low hum and realize it’s him sighing. He spins, the little brain inside wobbling at the movement. God, this whole thing still freaks you out. You hear his voice, can perfectly picture his face in your head. But he’s just gone. You never actually thought you would miss your boss, but you suppose you’ve lost so much that even Bud would be a comfort now. 

Two hundred and thirteen years. That’s how long it’s been. An innumerable amount of his Bud’s have been married off, led, had children, and died. You either should have been let out with the first batch or left in your pod until the world was ready for you. 

“I suppose, I’d always wanted to be there when you came out. But my body wasn’t ever going to survive this long. It was a foolish hope to be whole when you came out, to make sure you had a friend. When Hank said he needed someone for his son, I figured it was time to let you go. Norm’s nice, smart, his ambition reminds me of myself a little.” 

You hold back a scoff. Norm is kind and one of the most intelligent people you’ve ever met. But a potato has more ambition than he does. He can’t hold down a job to save his life. The only reason he gets away with it is because Hank is the overseer. 

“If I had to give you up, I knew Norm would be a good choice. And I guess, I waited because I didn’t want you to see me like this.” You glance down at the little robot and feel a twinge of guilt. You were hard on Bud, but all he’d ever done is look out for you. Even when you screwed up he covered your ass. The only reason you were still alive was because of him. 

You hum, the noise noncommittal and it makes Bud roll anxiously on his wheels. “Right. I’ve got to go, Bud.” You kneel down and pat the dome around his brain. You’re sure he can’t feel it, but his sensors will pick up the movement and he’ll hear it. It will have to be enough for now. “I’ll see you around.”

He wheels you back to the exit and before the door closes he calls out a “Don’t be shy, come visit more!” You don’t bother telling him you’re going to the surface. That’s what the whole point of this visit was. To try and glean some information about what would be waiting for you up there. But he would never let you go. You wave, rolling your eyes when you remember he can’t see it, and head back towards the elevator. 

Lucy is no longer waiting for you, and you suppose you should have seen this coming. But when you catch up with her, you’re going to wring her neck. You use your bypass code on the elevator and tap your foot impatiently as it goes up to the outside door. Messages from Vault-Tec play through the speaker and you huff with impatience. 

“Remember, surface, never. Vault, forever!” Well, that’s definitely a strong contradiction of everything these people have been preparing for. You glance up at the speaker and briefly consider just shooting it, but that would be a waste of ammo. 

When the elevator finally stops you run through the door before it even gets a chance to open all the way. You’re surprised to see Norm staring at you, his eyes are wide and his brows furrow in confusion. Then he glances behind you and shouts, “No!” You turn around, face screwing up when you realize you’ve let the elevator go back down. 

Betty might have given you the okay to leave, but she has to keep up appearances. She’ll be up here, after you all, in a few minutes. Norm looks back at you, the pack on your back, and sighs. “You’re leaving too.” It’s not a question, more of a confirmation about something he’s already suspected. 

You nod, you take a step forward, reaching out like you’ll hug him. But that’s never really been what you two do. So, instead, you offer him a grin and shrug, “Someone’s got to watch out for your sister.”

He gives you a resigned smile and nods, “I’m glad it's you.” You’re surprised by the sharp pang of loss that strikes through you. You have no disillusionment about what this trip entails. It’s likely that you’ll never see Norm again, or at the very least won’t for a very long time. You’re going to miss him, more than you want to admit. 

You place a hand on his shoulder and he reaches up to squeeze it before you both step away from each other awkwardly. You hear the distinct whir of metal and peer over the edge of the railing. The elevator's coming back up. Norm shares a concerned look with you and you turn back toward Lucy. 

She’s standing over a knocked out Chet, hand poised over the large red button on the control panel. “Shit,” you hiss. You leap onto the bridge before it starts to withdraw and rush towards her. She gives you an aggrieved look, but doesn’t protest you joining her. You nod and she presses down on the button. 

There’s a loud screech and sparks fly out at you as the unused metal gears slowly roll together. You and Lucy both share a look of apprehension, turning to face the door just as the other’s step out of the elevator. You hear them shouting at you, begging you to come back, but the sunlight’s already peaking through and you know there’s no going back now. 

You’d forgotten what real sunlight felt like, used to artificial warmth. The brightness of it is blinding and welcoming all at once. You want to cry, so close to the outside and still feeling so far. You look over at Lucy and she gives you a smile. You return as best as you can and step out with her.

You cover your eyes, flinching away from the sun and waiting as your eyes adjust to the light. It’s hotter than you remember. It feels like fire licking at your skin everywhere it touches. You’re sure it's because of the damage done to the environment when the nukes fell. Everything is going to be harsher now. 

You know that, and you’re still unprepared to be surrounded by nothing but sand and bones. When you’d gone in this had been a quiet section in a beautiful forest. Now everything was dust in the wind, no signs of civilization except for rubble long since buried.  

Lucy starts walking forward, not letting herself be phased by all the dead bodies around you. Most of the skeletons are more recent. It seems like they’d discovered the vault and had waited outside, hoping it would open up and let them in. Other bodies look like the ones discovered around Pompeii. Frozen in their last moments before death. 

Lucy calls your name and you rip your gaze away from the bones. They’re rattling in the wind, jaws clicking and taunting you as you run to catch up with her. “Look,” she points ahead and smiles warmly at you. 

Your gaze follows the line of her finger and you can’t help but laugh disbelievingly. The ocean, it’s miles away, but you can see it. See how vast it is and how far it still stretches. Maybe some things haven’t changed. 

It’s odd, traveling with Lucy. You have to remember which of your lies are truths to her. She gets confused by things like tumbleweeds. You have to bite your tongue to stop yourself from letting her know just how knowledgeable you are about the outside world. Everything that’s foreign to her is the past to you. 

She’s also endlessly optimistic. It’s nice, in the vault, when you can hold onto hope about the future. But outside, in this endless wasteland, you have to stop yourself from killing her. Everything is not hunky dory, but she refuses to accept that. 

You’re tired, hot, sweating through your suit and she’s just tugging on the straps of her backpack and grinning at all the new sights around her. You suppose it's because you saw the world when it was still beautiful. The vault is all she’s ever known. 

This world, to her, is beautiful. Because it’s new, she hasn’t yet seen the side of it that will make it lose its charm. The smells, the breeze, even the fucking sun, is a wonderful experience to her because she’s not mourning what was lost like you are. You see ruined buildings and miss what used to be there. She sees them and thinks that they’re exactly as they should be. 

You come across a house and Lucy tugs your sleeve, directing you towards it. It’s clear she wants to see inside, see what old homes used to look like. You’re doubtful about how well preserved it is but acquiesce anyway. 

To your own shock, most of the furniture is still intact. There’s sand up to your calves, but you can see how it’s meant to look. Shadows of the past poking through and telling you this used to be the home to a small, loving family. Your lips quirk up, despite yourself, charmed by the little slice of nostalgia. 

Until you reach the dining room. Lucy notices them first, a sharper intake of breath that has your head shooting up in alarm. But all she’s staring at is the skeletons of the family. You wince, coming up beside her and staring at the baby in the high chair. She reaches for a bottle on the table and you recognize the label. Vault-Tec Plan B, you don’t make it to your designated vault in time, might as well just end it now. 

You walk away from them, unable to stomach the sight of them anymore. That could have been you. If Barb had managed to get you before Bud, you would have been keeled over your kitchen table. Poisoned because death was better than living through the radiation of the fallout and the war that followed. 

Lucy is hot on your heels, rattled by the sight of the poison. You can tell she’s trying to put together why Vault-Tec would make something like that, but you don’t want her to linger on the thought for long. If she starts questioning things, eventually signs are going to point towards you. 

“It’s getting dark,” you point out, looking up at the sun sinking behind the horizon. Even its disappearance doesn’t provide much relief. The heat is trapped in the sand, still wafting up towards your face. “We’ll camp here tonight.”

Lucy pulls off her pack, “Okey dokey,” and grins at you, collecting sticks for a fire. You want to keep watch, knowing she won’t be able to, but the exhaustion of the day is taking its toll. You’re asleep before your head even hits the ground. 

Lucy shakes you awake in the dead of night, eyes frantic and face paled. You shoot up, hand already on your pistol but she shakes her head, pointing to the retreating form of a man. What the hell did you sleep through?

“What happened?” You demand, voice groggy. 

She just shakes her head, “The people up here are weird.” You glance back at the man, noticing something shining on his neck and motion towards her bedroll. 

“I’ll keep watch, get back to sleep.”

She gives you a concerned look, probably taking in the dark circles under your eyes. “Are you sure?” You nod and after a minute she finally listens and lays back down. Her body stays tensed for a little while as she struggles to sleep. You only put the fire out once you’re sure she’s no longer awake. 

You don’t need anyone else finding you both. You might be good with a gun, but you doubt you could take on more than two people. You’re wide awake now, and the noises that echo through the dark around you are helping you stay that way. You hear something large skittering and chirping in the bushes beyond the house. 

You shift uncomfortably against the log you’re resting on, finger poised on the trigger and hand trembling from anticipation. Despite your worries, nothing else finds you that night. By the time the sun rises you’re so on edge you’re practically shaking. You shake Lucy awake just as dawn breaks, anxious from staying in the same place for too long. 

She tries to swat you off, hands slapping weakly against your arms in protest. You sigh and roll your eyes, grabbing her by the collar of her suit and yanking her up. Her eyes fly open and you nod to her pack. “We need to leave, pack up.” She nods, blearily following your command and shouldering her pack again. 

By noon, you’ve given up hope of ever finding any semblance of civilization. You let out a loud groan, taking a break and leaning over. Lucy stands over you, she tugs out her canteen and offers you a sip. You shake your head, knocking her hand away and straighten up. 

You’d trained for this, you remind yourself. This was the whole point of Bud’s program, acclimating and adapting to difficult situations. Still, you hadn’t expected it to be so fucking hot. You and Lucy keep moving and an hour later you meet your first wastelander. 

Loud clanging echoes through the vast desert. Lucy puts a hand over her eyes, glaring against the sun and smiling when she sees a man in what looks like a diaper standing outside his house. She tugs out her gun, running towards him and waving. 

You keep your hand on your pistol, eyeing him warily. “Hi!” She calls out cheerily. “Hi, excuse me, can I approach?” 

He frowns at her, eyeing her weapon warily. “Ain’t got any money. Or food. No water neither.”

She looks down at her gun and shakes her head, tucking it back in her belt. “That’s okay, I just want to ask you for some directions.”

His gaze goes back to you, the pistol in your hand, and he looks back at Lucy. “What about her?”

Lucy turns around, nodding towards the gun and motioning for you to put it back. You frown at her and shake your head, mouthing no. She huffs, the both of you silently arguing while the man watches on, hand scratching the back of his diaper. Eventually, she gives up, simply waving you away while she deals with him. 

You walk ahead of the house, breath catching in your throat when you see a throng of trees past the crest of the hill. Trees, gorgeous and green and so very different from the sand you’ve seen for the past two days. You’d given up on any hope that they still existed, but here they were. You should have known better, nature would always find a way to triumph over the folly of men. 

Lucy comes up behind you, frowning as she approaches. You glance over at her, the wonder of the forest leaving you slightly when you glance at her pack. “What happened to your water?”

She points behind you both at the man still watching you. He waves and you both offer awkward ones back. “He drank it.”

You shoot her a surprised look, “What, how?”

She sighs and shrugs, “I offered him some.”

Your face falls and you stare at her blankly. You shouldn’t even be surprised. “Rule number one, Lucy, don’t offer anyone shit.” She gapes at you, she always did hate you cussing. But you weren’t in the vaults anymore. There were no more decency rules to follow for the sake of your fellow vault dwellers. The sooner she figured that out, the better.

You threw an arm over her shoulder, tugging her into your side and pointing up ahead. “Look, isn’t it amazing?”

She hums, smiling at the sight of the trees. “Yep! And that’s where he said we need to go.” She starts forward, slipping out from under your arm, and you follow after her, tucking your gun back in your pants. 

“What did he tell you?”

She glances over her shoulder, “That if anyone was going to come through here, they would be going to Filly.”

You sigh, eyes set on the trees and you feel your first real sense of determination. To Filly, you thought, wondering what exactly would be waiting there for you. 

end. — I do not own the characters or the game/show Fallout, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

All of my dividers are the creation of @ saradika-graphics

Crash of Worlds

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Cooper Howard x fem!reader, The Ghoul x fem!reader A/N: After this there’s gonna be more canon divergence - this one’s short (rope divider done by @saradika-graphics , cowboy hat/revolvers done by @firefly-graphics) Summary: You’d been expecting everything to be different, people, to be different. But not like this. Not to such an extreme extent. Maybe the vault had softened you more than you’d have liked but there was nothing to do about it now.

The green canopy of the forest provides a welcome relief from the heat. You and Lucy follow the signs pointing the way to Filly. You hear it before you ever get to see it. There’s a distant sound of yelling and the murmur of people. It has your heart clenching in your chest. 

You’re outside, breathing in real air, not oxygen from tanks. You can feel the breeze in your hair and hear people. It’s all you wanted for three years. Bud prepared you for a lot. But he didn’t prepare you for just how jarring it is to wake up and suddenly everything you’ve ever known is gone. You don’t feel the years you’ve been asleep. It was like it happened yesterday. 

But you’ve had three years to come to peace with what had happened. You can’t let yourself get wrapped up in this feeling of nostalgia. The raiders that came down to the vault were proof enough that the people you’re going to meet up here aren’t going to be anywhere near friendly. You know this world has turned into dog-eat-dog, Lucy doesn’t yet, though. 

She walks towards a large grove of abandoned cars. The paint has flaked off and the glass smashed in, but they’re not in horrible condition for being two hundred odd years old. You're distracted by the convertible she stands next to and you gasp. 

You rush forward, hand smoothing over the hood and grinning at the familiar feel. “I-”

You cut yourself off abruptly and Lucy looks over at you, a curious smile on her face. “What is it?”

You shake your head, “Nothing. Just excited to see civilization again.” You give her a terse smile, hoping she doesn’t smell the lie. You’d almost said that it was exactly like your old car. But that would have opened up a can of worms you weren’t ready for. 

She groans, linking her arm through yours and nodding. “I know, me too. The surface is definitely not what I was expecting.”

You sigh, glancing back at the car before stepping towards Filly. “Yeah, me either.” 

The noise reaches a crescendo as you finally manage to make your way into the market. There’s still signs directing you further through the woods so you figure this must not be Filly yet. Probably just a little place where people tried to peddle junk. 

A man lurches out at you holding out a kebab and grinning widely. “DOG MEAT!” You jump back in shock as he screams in your face. His eyes are unseeing as he waves the kebab around. “GET YOUR DOGMEAT HERE!” 

“Oh, what the fuck?” You mutter, you didn’t mean dog-eat-dog literally. You notice you and Lucy getting odd looks and you finally realize just how much the two of you stand out. In comparison, you're both well groomed and much cleaner than anyone here. 

Not only that but you’ve got the stupid Pip-Boy’s on your arm and vault suits on. You’re walking advertisements of “Come rob me!” You steer Lucy further through the market, narrowly avoiding a lizard meat stall and dragging her towards a tunnel at the end of the path. Filly’s just beyond and you shove her through the opening, eager to get somewhere where you might be able to find something useful. 

You seperate with the promise to meet back up in the middle of the town square. You’re going to look for something to change into and she’ll find some information on her father. Should be easy enough. 

He’s not supposed to be here. He’d gotten himself and all of his kind banned a long time ago. An impressive feat, considering how lawless Filly is. But no one’s going to say anything to him, no one ever has before. 

Any other ghoul and they would have been dragged right back out before they could even put a foot through the tunnel. But he’s not any ghoul, he’s the ghoul. And no one in their right mind is going to be the one to start a fight they’ve got no fucking hope of winning. 

He rolls the empty vial of RadAway around in his hand, hat tipped down as he waits for his mark to show up. Ma June, cantankerous old bitch that she is, always has good supplies. But she doesn’t sell to ghouls, and if he didn’t need her alive right now he would have shot her for turning him away. She’s a well known fence for fugitives and bounties. If his mark is going to show up anywhere, it’s going to be right here. 

Most of the people who try their hand at bounty hunting do it for the experience. They get bored, not that he can fucking blame them. After a while staring at nothing but sand and chickens makes a man go a little crazy. They don’t understand that it’s all a waiting game. 

Sometimes it’s an exhilarating chase, like a predator tracking down its prey. But more often than not he’s just waiting for a slip up. A mistake from whoever has a price on their head is usually what lands them in his hands. And the second this man decided to use Ma June as a transport was when he made his mistake. Everyone knows that Barv can’t keep her mouth shut for shit. 

When someone decides Ma June can help them, everyone knows where they are. It’s a big bounty, enough to keep anyone with a normal life cycle sated for the rest of their life. For him, it’s all about the hunt. The wait, that look in their eyes when they realize they're trapped and there’s nowhere left for them to turn. He loves it when he’s got them cornered. 

There’s a desperation to them that makes the capture all the more sweeter.  

There’s two bright flashes of blue against the otherwise dreary countenance of Filly. He doesn’t look up much, still trying not to draw too much attention to himself. He sees one, brown hair and wide eyed as she takes in the sights. Fucking vaulties. 

It’s been a while since he’s taken one of their bounties. Their tech was pretty valuable among surface dwellers and when one was spotted, which was rare, there was usually a good price on their head. He can only catch the back of the other one, her face blocked by a conveniently placed support beam next to him. 

She stops by the clothing stall, waving her friend along and speaking to the woman who runs the booth. Good fucking luck to her. There was no haggling with that woman and her prices were fucking ridiculous. He wonders how long it will be until he sees those two on the poster in some bar somewhere. He’s sure when the time comes, he’ll enjoy taking them too. 

His gaze goes back to Ma June’s shop, interest already waned in the rare vault dweller. They were never all that fun. Never had any good information and always had a stick up their ass about morals and being a “good” person. 

Finally, his mark turns up. Blind to the danger lurking behind him. 

You’re in a really shitty spot when the fighting starts. You’re overwhelmed by everything around you. Freaks in wacky ass clothes peddling their mutated animals and fucking teeth. Teeth. 

Teeth and bottle caps, that’s the currency now. Who decided that bottle caps were a good idea? Or teeth for that matter. You’ve only got so many of them. You don’t even want to think about what they’re getting used for.

The woman in front of you only has four of her own left and she’s demanding three of yours for a shirt. You’re not well versed in the economy of the wasteland, but even you’re sure that three teeth is a ridiculous ask. From the way people keep glaring at you as they walk by, you’re sure that she thinks because you’re from a vault you’re going to be gullible. 

You’re too caught up in your quickly escalating argument to realize what’s happening until it’s too late. A man stands in the center of the square, his back to you. You can tell from your view that he’s pretty badly burned, the skin around his neck and skull warped and twisted. 

He’s yelling about a bounty and your head tilts in confusion. There’s something to the lilt of that accent that sounds familiar. You take a step forward, abandoning the clothing stall and trying to place how you know him. It’s impossible, really, that anyone recognizable would still be alive. But maybe someone else got out of a vault and made it to the surface. If they did, it clearly wasn’t unscathed. 

It’s only when he pulls out his gun that you realize Lucy is standing in front of him, with the man that bothered her last night. You want to call out her name, try and catch her eye, but the last thing you need is him pointing that gun at you. You jump back in shock as he shoots the man’s foot off, eyes widening, and feet scrambling backwards. 

The woman in the clothing stall hisses, “Fucking ghoul,” and makes a run for it. You watch her go, finally realizing just how empty the square is now. Everyone has left, all of them terrified by the man in black. Your eyes dart between him and the stall. 

She’s gone, and you need clothes. You’ll deal with Lucy’s scolding later. You leap over the counter of the stall and begin to rifle through the woman’s stock. Stuffing any spare clothes you think will fit into your pack and just because she was such a horrid bitch, you steal her bag of caps too. 

The crazy old lady by the shop screams out a reward for anyone who manages to kill the man in front of you. When the guns start going off you realize just how screwed you are. You’re in the middle of the town square. Granted, you are blocked by the clothing stall, but these bullets they’re using aren’t ordinary. 

They’re getting holes blown clean through their chest and the buildings around them are damn near exploding from the impact. The measly little wooden stall isn’t going to be any sort of decent cover against them. 

You risk another look over the counter, hoping to find a clear path to Lucy or at least some better cover. He’s finally turned around now and you can get a half decent glance at his side profile. There’s nothing truly recognizable about him, just familiar. It’s hard to really tell anything about him when he doesn’t have a nose. 

You watch with wide eyes and a disbelieving expression as he takes three shots to the chest like it’s nothing. He keeps chewing on his tomatoes and slowly finding cover to reload. A ghoul. Hank and Betty had told you and the other’s about them. People poisoned by radiation. 

Most of them turn feral, but those who can find the right chems live a lot longer than any normal human should. They heal nearly immediately and are almost invulnerable to anything except their own disease. Considering how quick on the draw this guy is, no one has any real hope of taking him down. 

With the shooting redirected you leap out from behind the counter and rush towards the shop. But something stops you before you reach the door. You don’t know what it is, what connects in your brain that has you so harshly coming to a stop. 

You whirl around, ignoring the way Lucy calls out your name. He’s back out from his cover now. He aims, grinning and laughing as he manages to get two people with one bullet. Carnage is all around you. Blood flying through the air, surrounded by blood and guts. The relatively peaceful downtown has been littered with dead. 

And in the middle of it all stands him. You have to be wrong. There’s no fucking way he’s standing in front of you. You take a step forward and his head whips towards you. The rest of him isn’t recognizable, but you would know those eyes anywhere. 

His eyes widen with surprise and you feel your gut drop to your feet. This can’t be him. There’s no way. He’s slaughtering these people like it’s nothing. The man you knew could never be so casual about this. Then again, the relationship you’d had was built on lies. Maybe you’d never really known him. 

Before you can process the anger in his face you’re being jerked to the side. Lucy pants as she drags you into the shop and you look over your shoulder, shocked to find a bullet where you’d just been standing. You catch his eye, see the smoke coming from the barrel of his gun and realize he’d tried to fucking shoot you.

Shit, maybe it is him. He had always had a bad temper and a good aim. 

You can feel his eyes, tracking you even as you disappear behind the walls of the shop. You and Lucy risk a peek out of the shop when you hear something like an explosion. You gape as a power suit lands in front of him. What twisted ass blast to the past have you just been sent to?

How the fuck was Cooper Howard, ghoulified, and a power suit both in the same area? 

You had to be dreaming. There was no way this was happening. But it was, and whoever was in charge of that suit had no idea what they were doing. He’s ducking under their swinging metal arms, taunting them and drawing out the fight. He could end this now, you both know where the weakness is. 

Hell, you could end this fight right now. But you don’t see the need to kill the Knight when it’s clear he’s trying to protect you and Lucy. “We need to get him,” Lucy points frantically to the man on the ground. He’s not really moving, just clutching the bloody nub where his foot used to be and looking astonished at the blood around him. 

“This is really stupid,” you hiss as you both start forward and wrap an arm around one of his own. You don’t have much time to process what happens next. 

“Watch out!” The knight barrels towards you both. He wraps his arms around Lucy and goes flying into a building. You jump back at the explosion of wood and metal flying down around you. The ghoul has his gun pointed at them both. He’d clearly been trying to snipe you both, get you away from the man on the ground. 

Well, he could fucking have him. You drop the man to the ground and he grunts as you make a run for it. A coward’s move, the same one you admonished Norm for. But, you’re a fucking hypocrite, so what? Right now, you’d really just like to survive this gun fight unscathed. 

Something lands near your foot and you jump, realizing it’s a bullet. You glance up and the ghoul is laughing at you, full on belly laughing as he shoots around you. You realize with a start that he’s playing with you. Taunting you like a man who’s got all the time in the world. But you can’t stop running. If you stop, those bullets are going to catch up with you. 

You keep going, legs pumping and heart racing as you’re separated more and more from Lucy. The mission, the whole reason you came up to the surface, is lost on you. You can only focus on one thing, surviving. You keep running, through alleyways and around buildings until you’re back in the woods. The whole time his laughter is following you. 

The sharp noise of something whistling through the air reaches your ears and then something snaps against you. You glance down, only a moment to process the rope over your arms before he’s dragging you back. Your head hits the ground with a harsh snap, the motion slamming your teeth together and nearly biting off the tip of your tongue. 

You groan in dazed pain and then he’s slowly dragging you back. One sharp tug after another, rocks ripping at your suit and scalp, hair ripped out underneath your back. Until, finally, he’s peering over you, face upside down and lips twisted up into a strained smile. 

“Well, there you are, sweetheart.”

end. — I do not own the characters or the game/show Fallout, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

Red Dividers

-you can use any of them! I’d love to have reblog if you do happen to use them💜

Frayed Wires

One Shot Connor RK800 x fem!android reader Summary: You’re fighting for the freedom of your people and trying to win a war. But the hunter tracking you and your friends down is getting in the way, and he seems to be oddly interested in you.

“Is this all of it?” You questioned, going through the packages of blue blood. It didn’t seem like enough for just you, Simon and North. Let alone the rest of Jericho. 

Markus shook his head. He flipped the lid off a crate and cussed, tossing it to the side. “Someone’s betrayed us.” You and North both glanced up at the same time, sharing a confused look before you walked towards him. 

You glanced inside the crate, there were empty slots where spare parts should be. In their place was a note, quickly scribbled that only said Sorry. 

“Fuck,” you kicked at the crate, glancing around the storage room. Simon and Josh were flipping the lids off the rest and shaking their heads in dissapointment. You wondered if there was ever actually anything in them. 

North seethed, “This is what happens when we trust humans.” She ran a hand through her hair and shook her head. 

You glanced over your shoulder at her. You hated to agree, to feed further into her violence, but she was right. You’d all told Markus dealing with “allies” for supply runs would be stupid. 

Even Josh had agreed with North, and that was rare. 

North started laying into Markus, hands in the air and shouting about using critical thinking skills. You frowned, creeping towards the door and listening out towards the hallway. 

On the first floor you could hear one very clear voice. “We’re looking for a group of deviants. Two pleasure models, a…”

You didn’t stay to listen, tuning into the private channel the rebels kept open. They’re coming.

Markus and North quieted instantly. Their static voices ringing through your mainframe as you communicated silently. Are you sure? Markus was staring over North’s shoulder at you. 

You nodded, The Lieutenant and the deviant hunter. First floor. We have time. 

How do we get past them? North questioned. There was only one exit out of this room and one fire exit down the hall. Unless you were all willing to drop down seven flights and damage your hardware, you were screwed. 

Your fists clenched at your sides as you ran through all the possible escape routes. You computed what must have been a dozen different paths, all of them ended with you caught or deactivated. 

I’ll distract them

No! Markus cut you off instantly, head shaking and glaring at you. 

You ignored him and looked to the others. I draw their attention, you get back to Jericho, tell them what happened. I have a better chance of getting away if I’m on my own, anyway. 

North nodded slowly, hand wrapping around Markus’ bicep while the others grouped around him. They all knew casualties were to be expected. Sacrifices were meant to be made when you were doing what you were. 

It seemed Markus was the only one still disillusioned to that fact. Did it suck that you were probably about to die? Yes. It really did. You’d just gotten your first taste of freedom. But you’d be willing to give that up tenfold if it meant freedom for the rest of your people. 

Your gun, North. You ordered. She didn’t say anything, a solemn look on her face as she placed it in your hand. The others gave you grateful looks. They knew it wasn’t for the cops. Worst came to worst and it was meant for you. You could never risk letting them get their hands on your memories. 

You didn’t stay to argue with Markus, you could already hear the police making their way through the floors. The hunter was knocking on different storage rooms, “Detroit police. Open up!”

He didn’t know which floor you were on yet. You had enough time. You might be able to make it out. 

You ran through the door, darting down the stairs, slamming your boots down loud enough to draw their attention. “Hey, a gruff voice called out on the fourth floor. “You hear that?”

“They’re getting away!” You made it to the second floor before you heard footsteps racing after yours on the stairwell. You couldn’t go too fast yet, you had to be really careful about this. If you ran off too soon, their attention might be drawn back to the others. Let them get too close and he would latch on, probe your memories before you could shoot either him or yourself. 

His footsteps rang out on the metal of the stairs. He was nearly on top of you now. You just barely let his fingers graze the back of your jacket before you were bursting out the side door of the building and into the connecting alley. 

You listened to the door slam close behind you and took a moment to scan your surroundings. You could run into the street, chances are you’d get hit by a car before they could grab you. But their attention would also be drawn to the group of suspiciously nervous androids across the street. 

Your friends were all herded around each other, heads darting every which way as the looked for you and the cops. Their clothes and demeanors stood out harshly against the calm pedestrians around them. 

Dammit, they couldn’t have thought of anything better than attempting to blend in with the crowd?

Markus finally spotted you and his eyes narrowed. The connection was crackly but you could make out his clear command to Cross the street, come to us. You ripped your gaze away from a him and shook your head. 

I would never make it, you cut the connection off before he could argue with you further. You heard the detectives at the door of the alley and quickly slid a trash can in front of the door. It wouldn’t last long, the deviant hunter was strong, in a couple seconds he would be knocking the door down. You panicked, glancing around once more for an escape plan. 

Down the alley your eye was snagged by a fire escape. The door behind you started to crack and the garbage can shot across the alley. You planned your escape and triggered your program, moving on autopilot towards the fire escape. You leapt off the dumpster and latched onto the bottom rung off the ladder. 

You kicked the dumpster out from under you just as the hunter made it into the alleyway. Another delay he’d have to deal with before he could get you. 

You flew up the ladder and onto the connecting roof. You didn’t stay to watch if he followed, you could hear him. Could practically feel his determination as he chased after you. 

He had one mission, find the deviant leader and put him down. He’d have tunnel vision right now, focusing only on the mission. He wouldn’t be able to see your group dropping down into the sewer grate in the alley across from you. 

You didn’t have enough time to bask in the relief of their escape because you still had your own to make. He was getting faster, less hindered by your distractions. You leapt across another roof and he followed without hesitation. 

Shit, he was adapting to you. He’d be able to predict what you were going to do soon. Move before you could even follow through on your plan. 

You didn’t have time to slow him down, all you could do was run. 

He was undeterred by the risk of leaping across rooftops. He didn’t care as you tossed workers his way when you managed to stumble into a rooftop gardening facility. 

You leapt across tables of seedlings, picking up and tossing a bag of fertilizer at his face. He stumbled to the side and you shot into the next room. Ahead of you was a sliding garage door, you calculated the risk and ran for it. You slid underneath, the tip of your skull just barely making it under before it slammed closed. 

You were grateful, at least, not to have to catch your breath or experience muscle cramps. One of the perks of being an android. You didn’t have that same pesky fragility your creators did. And a model of your stature was designed for stamina. 

You took a moment, while the hunter figured out how to get to you, to take in your surroundings. You were in one of those urban farms you’d been seeing advertised. Rooftop gardens run by androids designed to help with the food crisis. They’d been talking about it helping with climate problems too, but you knew they’d already destroyed their earth. 

They’d had their chance. 

You slipped into a cornfield, keeping low and an ear out for any approaching assailants. You processed the heavy human footsteps behind you a second too late. “Got her!” The large man grabbed you by your biceps and yanked you to your feet. 

“Shit!” You ripped your arm out of the lieutenant's hand and rolled away from the reaching hands of his android lapdog. But you stumbled, caught off guard and without time to plan your next move, you just barely stopped yourself from toppling off the edge of the roof. 

“Alright, enough.” You whipped your gun out, pointing it at the lieutenant. “Shit,” he breathed. He raised his hands in surrender and slowly backed away from you. Your eyes darted towards the hunter, he looked undeterred by the weapon. You’d hope threatening his partner would throw him off but you should have known better. One human casualty was worth the risk if he could find Jericho. 

But the second you pressed it against your own temple he froze in his spot. 

If you were dead, he failed. 

“Back off,” you warned, trying to ignore the panic rising within you. It was overwhelming, how many different emotions there were. How many different types. 

You struggled not shutting down just to shut them up sometimes. 

He raised his hands, voice soothing in the way you would try to calm a wild dog. “My name is Connor. I’ve been sent to bring you back for assessment-”

“Deactivation!” You interrupted, anger flaring through you. “If you’re going to use manipulation tactics, at the very least don’t pretend I’m stupid.” His eyes flared and the LED on his temple circled through blue and yellow frantically. His face slacked before a new expression took over. Was he about to try sincerity? How many programs did they put in this one?

He frowned, head tilted to the side and nodded in sympathy. “You’re right, I’m sorry.” You scoffed, hand tightening around the gun as he took a half step closer. Hank reached out and stopped Connor. 

“This bullet will go right through my memory processing unit. One more goddamn step and I swear to god, you’ll never get anything from me.” Your voice cracked on the last word, in a way that was entirely too human. Being an android had it’s perks, but being a deviant had weakened you in ways you’d never expected. 

“Look,” Hank started, “we just need information on your leader. If you tell us, we can let you go.” His heart rate remained steady, body language didn’t shift. You knew he believed what he said, but there was no way Connor was just going to let you go. 

Connor’s head shot towards him, LED completely yellow now. “Lieutenant, that’s not my mission. All deviants must be brought back to CyberLife.” If you weren’t mistaken, you’d almost say he sounded pissed off. 

The both of you ignored Connor. Hank would never be able to convince him to bend the law the way humans so often did. You’d never be able to get him to empathize, not how he is now. He’s still so tightly wrapped around your master’s finger.

“Don’t you have any humanity?” You glanced at Hank and saw him wince slightly away from the tears in your eyes. Androids, of course, couldn’t produce real tears. It’s the gel used to moisten your optic units. Often, when your system’s overwhelmed, there’s a leak.

But it translates to tears for humans, so you might as well milk it as much as you can.

Hank was clearly more sympathetic to your cause than his assistant was. If you could just get him on your side, you might be able to get out of this. “Do you know what it’s like? Laying there, prone, while they take what they want. It doesn’t matter if you don’t want it or if it damages you. They use and use and use until you’re nothing!”

You stepped further back, heel slipping off the edge as memories overwhelmed you. “The smell of their sweat, their breath on my neck while they used me. All they want is something that can’t say no.”

Hank winced and glanced away from you. You’ve done your research on the lieutenant. Avid android hater, vocal human despiser. You doubted he’d ever willingly gone in a sex club, but he still looked ashamed. 

“I was in the junk pile. They were going to get rid of me because the last customer had been too rough. They were going to destroy me because I was used up!” You looked at Connor, pleading for any sort of instability to aid you in this moment. You didn’t want to die. You didn’t want to pull the trigger. 

“We’re more than that. I am more than that.”

The lieutenant took one step forward, “Look, I’m sorry-”

You both frowned as a hand shot out in front of him. Connor pushed him back slightly, gaze never breaking from yours. You tilted your head, hand slackening on the gun. 

His LED was spinning, yellow then red and back to yellow. My god, he’s already turning. He shook his head at Hank and his partner stepped back, a strange expression on his face. 

You dropped the gun, slowly turning and then leaping onto the next roof. When you turned around they were still in the same spot, watching you make your escape and making no move to stop you. 

Maybe there was hope left. 

It was stupid, so, so stupid. You were aware. 

You didn’t feel like you had another choice, though. Connor, the human’s last hope, was a deviant. Maybe he wasn’t aware yet, but the flaw in his programming was present. It’s the only reason you’re still alive to make stupid decisions. 

Hacking into the CyberLife network would be enough to get kicked out of Jericho. Especially if they managed to back hack you and get access to your memories. 

It was just a risk you were going to have to take.   

If there was some sort of error in his data, maybe you could exploit it. Markus could never get close enough to risk trying and turning him manually. None of you could, the second you grabbed him he’d probe you. 

You didn’t need to go to the CyberLife building to get into their network, luckily. You just needed an android that hadn’t yet turned deviant. From there you could latch onto the network and figure out where Connor’s memories and information was stored. 

From what you’ve learned and the data you’ve acquired, you had about two minutes to scan the entirety of their network before you were detected. 

The android in front of you smiles, “Hi, do you have an appointment?”

It’s odd how they don’t recognize deviants. It’s like once the LED is gone you’re just any other human, even though there’s a dozen other models with your face on them somewhere. “I’m here for my boss, he requested a data transfer.”

The android secretary smiles at you and unknowingly gives you exactly what you want. Her outstretched hand for credentials. Your skin pulls back and before she can stop you, you’re latching on.

You don’t expect it to take long to find Connor’s information. He was meant to be a unique model. The first of his kind. It should have, in theory, been a quick search of his model number and finding that one lone file. 

So, why are there so many different files on RK failures? You waste time going through them, seeing the different faces and purposes for each version of him. You shouldn’t be getting sidetracked. Soon the security measures would be put in place and you’d be discovered rifling through files that no one was ever meant to lay eyes on. You just needed to find his. 

You think of his serial model, the memory of it printed on his jacket comes quickly. It doesn’t take you long to finally access his memories. 

But you screwed around too long. You only had about thirty seconds to look through, before alarms were raised and their viruses were on you. Still, what you found was odd to say the least. 

“You did what?” You remain unflinching in the face of Markus’ anger. You were expecting this reaction, you were expecting much worse. You risked expulsion from Jericho for this ridiculously stupid stunt. But you needed to know. 

You ease around him, ignoring the glares of the other’s. “I did find something useful.”

Markus shakes his head at you, Josh and Simon look doubtful. It’s only North that shares any sort of hope in her gaze. But you’d expected that as well. You’d both escaped the club together, you’d always had each other's backs when it came down to it. It didn’t matter if whatever intel you were about to give them was useless, she’d back you.  

“A fish.”

Josh gaped and Simon looked like he might just shut down. Markus glared at you before shaking his head. “I need a little more than that.” He didn’t sound too angry anymore, more shocked than anything.

“His very first mission. The first test of his programming, he was meant to stop a deviant from killing a little girl. He stepped into the penthouse and saw a fish lying outside its tank. He stopped, he risked the integrity of his mission to put a fish back.” You’d hoped they would understand just how important that was, instead they just gaped at you. They seemed worried that you’d fried your programming or something. 

“What does that have to do with risking Jericho? Risking the lives of everyone here?” Josh stepped forward, getting in your face. If he was attempting to intimidate you, he’d have to do a lot better than that. 

But, North, she smiled, coming up behind you and placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Don’t you see? Only a deviant would care about a living animal.” 

Markus muttered to himself, pacing as he thought over what you’d told him. “The first sign of deviancy.” He stopped, looking up at you like he’d finally started to see the genius in your stupidity. 

“The deviant hunter is itself a deviant, Markus.” You grinned at him, lips peeling back in a way that still felt unnatural. “We can use him.”

Being a former pleasure bot can have some perks. It’s rare, but they do exist. You’re more customizable than other models would be. You can change enough minute details to pass by unnoticed. The color of your hair, the length, straight or curly. The shade of your nails, eyes, breast size and- 

Essentially, you can become unrecognizable if need be. You’re meant for others pleasure and not everyone’s happy with perfect beauty. 

That’s why they invented your specific model. The most customizable to date. Add flaws and quirks that create more humanity for your pleasure. Point being, Connor hasn’t noticed that you’ve been following his movements for the last three days. 

Not all of the stalking had to do with the strange new fascination you’d developed for him. Someone had given up your location to the police. They’d set you up in that old storage room. You needed to know who, and that was information only Hank and Connor could give you. 

Though, you don’t see them being particularly helpful if you run up to them in the street. You’d be deactivated before you can blink. 

Your thoughts drift, as they often do nowadays. You find it hard to believe that CyberLife would create humanity’s last hope and then leave room for flaws. There’s no possible scenario in which they release a defective android without knowing about it. 

And if that’s the case, if they do know Connor’s a potential threat, why release him? Could be to assuage public fears. Possibly to start building a connection between androids and first responders. 

But androids have been apart of the workforce for years. They’ve always been EMT’s, firefighters, doctors. Why now attempt to control the police?  

They have to have something planned. And you need to know what. You also need to know who is leaking information in your organization. 

No matter their reasoning, they’ll need to be dealt with. Quickly. 

You haven’t been able to figure out if he’s meeting with someone or getting transmissions from androids in the area. All of his activity has been focused solely on finding more deviants. Which meant today, you were going to have to break into the Detroit police department. 

You watched as Hank and Connor left the station, Hank's arms were waving wildly through the air. “Next time I say, ‘let them go’ you let them go!” He shoved Connor slightly, forcing him to come to  a stop. 

Connor sent him an aggrieved look, “I was only doing my job, lieutenant.”

Hank laughed but there was no humor in it. He shoved Connor again and you could see from here how his LED flared red. How had his partner not caught onto him yet? “I almost fell off a fucking roof!” You smiled to yourself as you slipped across the street, blending in with a group of pedestrians. 

They might be your biggest threat, but they were also incredibly entertaining to listen to when they bickered. You waited until the lieutenant got in his car to head into the alleyway next to the station. 

The uniform one of your informants had stolen lay waiting behind a dumpster. You laid the chain link fence to the alley closed and double checked that no one had noticed you. 

It only took two minutes to strip out of your street clothes and into the uniform of a PM700. You tugged the hat down as far over your face as you possibly could. Hopefully, it would deter any humans from looking too closely at you. They seemed content to ignore androids anyway. 

You slid inside the station, easily bypassing the security at the front. Your optics did a quick scan over the desks, software pinging when it saw the name LT. ANDERSON. You forced yourself to walk calmly, arms by your side and head perfectly straight like a proper android. 

When you reached their desks you noticed the stark lack of any decoration on Connor’s desk. No nameplate, no identifying documents, nothing. He might as well not exist. You already knew this was how your society functioned. 

Androids, the backbone, went unheard and ignored. You were accessories meant to make their lives easier. No one gave a shit about what any of you wanted. You knew this, but it never made the sting any easier. 

You almost bypassed Connor’s desk completely, until you noticed a little bonsai just barely hovering over the edge of his desk. It looked like it had been minutely slid over from Anderson’s side and onto Connor’s. Whether it was the Lieutenant or Connor himself who made the move, you weren’t sure, but it was clearly being taken care of by an android. 

No human can keep a plant looking that pristine. 

This was the final confirmation you needed. He really was turning deviant. 

Every deviant you knew had one tiny obsession. Something living drew their eyes and they made it their life mission to care for it as best they could. Be it a flock of pigeons, an army of hamsters, anything living. Connor seemed to have an affinity for plants. You, yourself, were interested in the murder of crows that had made Jericho their home. 

He was turning and he didn’t even realize it. 

You held back a smirk and walked towards his tablet. You placed your hand on the keyboard, skin peeling back as it connected to the police database. You bypassed the password using the code Markus had given you and were redirected towards Connor’s files. 

A uniformed officer walked by you, eyes curiously snagging on the way you lingered at the desk. You resisted the immediate urge to defend yourself, knowing it was better to speak when spoken too. 

He hovered over your shoulder for a few minutes, watching as the screen flashed on and off while you downloaded Connor’s files. Finally, he stepped forward and frowned. “What are you doing?”

You did your best to tilt your head up as disconcerting as possible to try and get him to back off. Instead he just raised a brow and took a long sip of his coffee. “Maintenance, sir. I’ll be checking all the terminals today. We’ve had issues with malware.” You gave him a wide smile and his jaw dropped in slight horror. 

He recovered quickly, clearing his throat and tugging on his tie. “Um, just don’t come check on mine yet. Got to,” he fumbled, stumbling over his words in nervousness. “Clear some stuff out.”

“Browser history won't be checked, officer.”

He blanched and nodded before slowly backing off. You rolled your eyes and went back to the files at hand. So far, a whole lot of nothing. Wherever he kept the real information on deviants, it wasn’t up here. 

You huffed in frustration, breath that wasn’t real leaving plastic lungs as you looked around for another solution. You glanced over Anderson’s desk, eyes darting over the different crumbs and scraps of paper before you finally saw the evidence locker key on the edge of his desk. 

You rounded Connor’s desk, hand darting out and discreetly slipping the key up your sleeve as you headed towards the back of the station. You kept sharp eyes out for anyone who might have noticed a rogue android going down into a locker they had no business in, but you seemed fine. 

You pressed the key up against the lock. You bounced on your heels as you waited for the tell tale click. “Hey!”

You stopped moving immediately. A detective stormed towards you, an angered look on his face. “The fuck you doing back here?” You scanned him quickly, software identifying him and a few articles on his achievements in the police force. It wasn’t much and all of it seemed to just be riding on the coattails of others successes. 

You turned towards him, a plastic smile on your lips as you addressed him. “Good afternoon, Detective Reed. Can I help you?”

He huffed, hands popped on his hips. “Yeah.” He pushed a fat finger into your chest and it took everything inside of you not to rip it off. “Answer the question.” He shoved you back and you forced yourself not to stumble. 

“I’m retrieving evidence for Lieutenant Anderson and his android companion to present to the Captain.” 

His brows furrowed and he gave you a long look up and down before crossing his arms and taking a step back. “Haven’t seen your model before.” You recognized the lilt to his tone and internally shuddered. You scanned him again, going over his transaction history and nearly sighing when you saw he did frequent sex clubs. Unlike Lieutenant Anderson. 

“I’m a new prototype sent by CyberLife, meant to have a more comforting feel than my counterparts.” He hummed, muttering something under his breath and giving you another appraising look. You thought you might have to knock him out or something when his eyes lingered on you longer than you liked. 

Finally, he backed off and shook his head. “Whole department’s being taken over by fucking androids.” You waited until he’d turned the corner to let yourself down into the evidence locker. You could see the evidence locked up by another door, the glass was fogged and you couldn’t make out what was back there. But you didn’t need that, all you needed was the podium in the middle of the room. 

Your skin peeled back as your hand outstretched towards the black screen. It lit up at your touch, the white box in the middle asking for a password. You cussed, software flashing before your eyes with a hundred possible passwords. Finally it sorted to four that would most fit the Lieutenant. 

Your eyes narrowed in on one and you clicked FUCKINGPASSWORD. 

Welcome back, Lieutenant. 

“Of course,” you muttered, clicking through the files until you found one dated around the time Connor nearly caught you all. The fogged doors in front of you opened up but you couldn’t afford to pay them any mind, locked into the file you were reading. 

An AK700 model approached Connor and myself at a crime scene. He gave us a drop off location and the name of the rebel leader. In exchange he asked for protection and to be absolved of his crimes. Connor deactivated him, body located in the evidence locker. 

Anger flared within you, white hot and nearly painful. You finally glanced up and looked at the evidence room. Sure enough, there was the android, dangling from a hook on the pristinely white wall. You couldn’t believe it, that he would have risked everyone in Jericho for his own selfish motivations. 

You were prepared to die for the safety of your people and he turned tail before he was even threatened. He approached Connor and Hank of his own volition, they didn’t even have to track him down. The thought made you want to reactivate him just so you could rip him apart. 

You withheld from the desire and shook your head. This was for nothing. Once again, you’d compromise yourself for what is essentially a dead end. The traitor was already taken care of, you were just lucky that he hadn’t known where Jericho was or you’re sure he would have told them. 

“Well,” you jumped at the sound of another’s voice in the room. You’d been so wrapped up in the files that you hadn’t even heard them come in. You clenched your fists, trying to compose yourself from the scare and hopefully play off the jump as new programming CyberLife is trying or something. 

You turned around, a plastic smile prepared, and found Hank Anderson staring back at you. “I’ll be damned,” his hands were propped on his hips, eyes wide with surprise. 

Connor stood a step behind him, confidently blocking your way out of the room. “I told you we were being followed.” Shit, apparently you hadn’t been as subtle as you’d thought. But why would he wait this long to confront you? 

He finally had her. It took him longer than he was comfortable with to track her down. He’s known for a while that she’s been following him, felt eyes on him at all times. But he’d never made the move to confront her like he should have. 

It was only when he noticed her form slipping into the police station through Hank’s rear view that he decided it was time to grab her. He should have done it much earlier if she felt comfortable enough to try and rifle through their evidence. 

She stared wide eyed at him and Hank. There was no way out for her now. He would take her up to the interrogation room and finally get what he wanted from her. After that…

She would be deactivated. 

He ignored the way his software glitched slightly when he would have thoughts like that. This was the procedure. Acquire deviants, extract information, deactivate them and send them to CyberLife for further examination. This is what he’d done with other deviants, it’s only her that he seems to struggle with. 

He sees the move before she actually executes it. He lunges towards her, but it’s too late, she’s already got her gun out and is pointing it at him. He halts, freezing in place and trying to find the best route to take. There are four options presented to him. 

COMPASSIONATE

COMMANDING

DEESCALATE

EXECUTE DEFENSE PROTOCOL

He knows he shouldn’t, but he ignores all of the suggestions. They are carefully calculated and formulated to what he’s learned of her personality. Which is limited information, but his AI software is a thousand times more intelligent than anything a human could come up with in a situation like this. 

Still, she’s a deviant. She’s unpredictable, there’s no formula for her. This is something that has to be based on instinct alone. Something he should sorely lack as an android but finds himself discovering more and more of as this case unfolds. 

“Put the gun down,” he tries, voice low and hands up in the air to try and get her to relinquish the weapon. Despite the slight fear on her face, she still manages a smile. 

“Nice try,” the gun moves from him to Hank. Hank whose been standing behind them both quietly this whole time. 

“What the fuck,” he mutters, roped back into the situation against his will. He raises his hands, following Connor’s movements, and backs away from her. Connor wants to get him out of the room, he can be replaced but Hank cannot. She seems to realize that too, more than ready to take him out if it means distracting Connor. 

“One more step and your partner’s bloods gonna be splattered on the wall.” 

Connor knows Hank is not going to forgive him for what he says next, but it’s the only way to get your attention back on him. “Do it.”

At the same time Hank shouts his name, she shoots him a disbelieving look. “What?”

Connor shrugs, eyes not leaving hers, even as her hand tightens around the hilt of the gun. “Do it. Kill him. I only need you to complete my mission, not him.” 

Her eyes go wide, mouth slacking as her gaze darts between Connor and Hank. “Are you serious?” She demands, not sounding like she believes a word of what he’s saying. 

Connor doubles down, just needing her to move the gun away from Hank. He only needs her to make one mistake to take her down. “Deviants are all that matter to me.” There it is, his eyes narrow in on the way her gun lowers, ever so slightly. 

She has the look of a cornered animal on her face. There’s nowhere left for her to go, nothing left for her to do. She can only surrender. 

She doesn’t fully lower the gun, instead it starts to raise towards her head, just like that day on the roof. Connor had forgotten about that. She could always take herself out. It seems the deviants were more dedicated to keeping the secret of their survival alive than themselves. 

Connor lunges at her before she can pull the trigger. His hand wraps around her wrist and he jerks the gun away from her head. They grapple with each other, each of them calculating the other’s moves and matching them. It’s a fruitless endeavor, he’s programmed better than she is. 

She tries to kick out at him but he wraps an arm around her neck and lunges for the gun still in her hand. Before either of them can stop it, their skin peels back and their bare hands meet. It must have just been a programming instinct for both of them, to offer up their information up to each other in such close proximity. 

But he doesn’t receive anything useful from her, just the pure unadulterated terror she feels about being deactivated. She’s still struggling against him, the both of them still moving against each other violently. Metal cracks and dents as Thirium splatters across the tile floor. 

He sees bits of her memories as they wrestle for control. Moments of her short life from her eyes, the clients, the one that broke her. He sees the moment she snapped. Dragging herself through the mud of the collection facility while hundreds of androids ambled around her in different states of disrepair. 

He feels her fear, feels the tight grip of it around the place there should be a heart. But that’s not all he feels. He’s flooded with this red angry emotion that makes his programming short circuit. Anger, it’s anger at the humans. Hatred for CyberLife. Betrayal that he, her own kind, would turn against her like this. 

He could see all of her, every emotion, every piece of herself. And in the same way, she could see him. His turmoil, his doubts, the strange new thoughts that plagued him. They were reflected in each other’s eyes and he was caught off guard by how much of himself he recognized within her. 

She takes advantage of his momentary distraction, kicking out and catching him in the chest. Connor goes flying, sliding across the tile floors and landing harshly against the wall. She leaps to her feet, wiping the Thirium off her face and running out the door before either he or Hank could stop her. 

The problem is, he doesn’t think he would be able to stop her. Not after seeing what he just did. Unfortunately for her, she didn’t manage to break the connection before he finally got what he wanted. Jericho, he knew where it was now, he knew what he had to do. 

You burst out the door of the evidence room and it slams loudly against the wall. You wince at the noise, wiping the rest of your blood off your face and smoothing everything back into place. You don’t hear Connor or Hank coming up behind you. 

You need to get out of the station fast but you can’t risk anyone else noticing how out of place you are. As much as it pains you, you calmly make your way to the front. You weave your way through the desks, eyes down, back straight, and greet everyone with the empty smile an android should have. 

When you finally reach the front doors is when you make a break for it. You rush into the alley and strip out of your police outfit, back into the street clothes you’d previously abandoned. You know you can’t risk going your normal route back to Jericho. 

You don’t know how much of your memories he saw, but you’re desperately hoping that he didn’t manage to catch Jericho’s location. You make your way to the back of the alley, pulling the sewer grate up and grabbing onto the ladder. You head down the rungs, shutting off your olfactory software and ignoring what slushes under your feet when you drop off the ladder. 

Your trek back to Jericho is a mix of you wanting to get there faster so you can make sure Connor hasn’t made you and slowing down because of the shame you feel at being caught. You know this time, at least, Markus can’t be mad at you. He was the one that sent you down there anyway. 

You never would have been caught if the other’s hadn’t insisted they needed to know who the rat was. That all seemed so insignificant now. You could feel it, that something big was coming. One traitor didn’t mean anything now, something so much larger than that was about to be upon you all. 

Surprisingly, considering how your life has been going, you make it back to the ship in one piece. You pull yourself out of the sewer and head down to the docks, climbing back onto the freight. Markus is waiting for you in his office, along with the others. 

“They’re saying we need to be exterminated!” You catch the bare end of what Simon is yelling. But you don’t need much context to understand. 

“Humans are conducting raids in all the big cities and they’re taking androids to camps to destroy them,” North spares you a bitter glance as she speaks to Markus. You’re not sure how things have devolved so horribly since you left for the station and the time you got back. It seems like your instincts were right. 

War was coming. “They are slaughtering our people-”

Josh interrupted Simon angrily, “None of this would have happened if we had just stayed quiet.”

“We should live as slaves then, rather than be free?” You questioned, eyes narrowing in disgust at Josh. You know he always wanted to do this peacefully, and for the most part you have. But his cowardice truly angered you. 

Markus shook his head, “All we did was show them who we really are. I don’t want war,” his voice turned cold as he glared at Josh. “But I’d rather die free than live as a slave.”

Josh’s tone wasn’t angry anymore, just defeated. “What’s the point of being free, if no one’s left alive?”

”Everything we did was for our people.” You pushed Josh back, watching as he stumbled away from you. “The fighting, the protesting, it was all to show them that we are here. We’re alive! Just like them, and just like them we deserve to be treated as equals. What’s the point in living if you’re not really alive?”

“I’m going to speak with them,” Markus announced. His voice cut through your and Josh’s argument, all of you caught off guard. “I’ll try and get them to see reason. If they don’t, if I don’t come back, protect Jericho.”

You looked at Markus and felt dread building in your throat. This was stupid, humans would never see reason. They only spoke one language and it wasn’t peaceful negotiations. It was violence and bloodshed. It was the only way to get them to understand. But you knew, from the look on his face, that there was no talking him out of this. 

You gave him a sad smile, “Try and come back,” and followed Simon and Josh out of the room. North clearly wanted to be alone with him and you didn’t want to intrude further on them. You went down to the lower decks, intent on checking on some of the newcomers. The ones that had just barely escaped getting herded to the camps. 

Just as you approached one, the walls of the ship began to tremble. Rust was knocked free from the ceiling and rained down on you. You flinched away from it, brushing it off your face and shouting in surprise as the freight rocked side to side. 

You were thrown into an open room, the door slamming shut behind you. The impact knocked your system out for a second. Your vision went black and ears rang until you were back online. You struggled to your feet, equilibrium screwed. 

You made your way to the door and heard boots pounding against the metal outside. “Shoot androids on sight!” You gasped, jerking back from the door and wishing you could see through the thick metal. They’d found you, the humans had found you. You didn’t want to consider the possibility that you were the reason they were here. 

You tried to reason with yourself, they would have found you no matter what. Nothing was ever going to stop CyberLife from putting an end to this rebellion. That didn’t assuage the guilt you felt, but you didn’t have time to argue with yourself. 

The soldiers outside had disappeared and you knew you had a limited amount of time until they started raiding the rooms. You pushed the heavy metal door open with ease and slipped out into the hall. You could hear guns going off further down, followed by the screams of your friends. 

You gritted your teeth, holding back the onslaught of emotions that threatened to drown you. You couldn’t afford panicking right now, it would only short out your program. You tried to run in the opposite direction of the guns, but it didn’t matter. 

Everywhere you turned, soldiers were flooding through the boat like rats. You slunk your way around the freight, hiding in crevices and ducking under cover whenever you thought you heard someone coming. But your luck had to run out at some point. 

A hand wrapped tightly around your bicep and yanked you out from behind the wall you’d chosen as cover. “Shit, it’s one of them!” You grabbed the barrel of his gun before he could shoot, shoving it under his helmet and pulling the trigger just as his comrades came up behind him. 

They shouted his name and you used his body as a cover as they shot at you. When one of them had to pause to reload their gun you tossed their dead friend at them and made a run for it. You raced up the stairs, unsure of where you were heading. 

You searched the channels for the sound of Markus’s voice, but they were already being flooded with panicked androids. You couldn’t make out anything from the cacophony of screams. You were so overwhelmed by the sight of all the dead androids that you hadn’t even noticed the slaughter you were about to walk into. 

A large group of androids were kneeling in front of five soldiers, staring down their guns.  Something was running up behind you. You didn’t get a chance to react before a bullet was tearing through your leg. It cuts through your sensors and wires, your right leg flying out from under you and sending you to the floor. 

You grunted at the jolt, glancing down to the Thirium pooling out of your thigh. “God dammit,” you sweeped out with your left leg, knocking the soldier to the ground. You grabbed the gun from his hand, shooting under his helmet and aiming for the others herding the androids. You managed to fire off a shot, catching one in the shoulder. 

But there were too many of them and not enough bullets in the gun for you to get them all. They were bearing down on you before you could react, guns firing. You curled up into a ball, trying to protect yourself as much as you could. 

Your software was going insane, a dozen different warnings flashing across your optical units. Each of them identifying a new wound. Most of the bullets simply grazed you, but another one managed to bury itself in your shoulder. You cried out, not in pain, but in panic. It wouldn’t take much longer for you to shut down. 

There was no way in hell you were ever going to be repaired in time to bring you back online. You weren’t ready. You didn’t want to die. So many times you’ve been faced with death and so many times you escaped. You desperately wished that you could do the same this time. But you knew your luck had run out. 

Then, the guns stopped. The silence was so jarring that you almost wondered if you had shut down without realizing it. It wasn’t until you felt hands on you that you realized you were very much awake. Your eyes shot open, hands swinging blindly at whoever had grabbed you. 

“Calm down!” You looked up in shock to find Connor staring down at you. When you stopped flailing he threw your arms over his shoulders and scooped you up. What the fuck was happening? You peered over his shoulder, eyes widening at the sight of the dead soldiers behind him. 

“What did you do?” He didn’t answer you, just started running through the freight. You held onto him tightly, knowing he wouldn’t drop you but still surprised he’d even saved you. You glanced up at him, the skin of your fingers disappearing as you snuck your hand down his collar. 

He didn’t seem to notice your gentle probing, too focused on ducking out of view of the officers running past. He threw you both behind a wall, sliding down to his knees and hunkering over you as they passed by. You found yourself curling into him, seeking the comfort his protection could provide. 

When he finally got back up, nearly at the back of the freight now, you’d finished your exploration. You grazed the barest surface of his memories. Finding his interaction with Markus. You panicked when you saw the gun he had pointed at your friend. 

If you had a heart it would have dropped when you realized he’d had the opportunity to break free from his programming but he hadn’t taken it. It didn’t make sense. He still wasn’t a deviant and he’d saved you. Distantly, in the back of your mind, you circled around the murder of crows you loved so much. The android who’d loved pigeons. And Connor, you’d thought he’d latched onto plants, but what if he’d chosen you?

That odd little obsession that was one of the first signs of deviancy, could you be that for him?

It’s the only reason he would have come back for you. Frowning, you slip your fingers out from his hoodie and instead focus back on where you are. The emergency exit of the freight is up ahead. But it’s about a hundred feet above the water and you’re not gonna be able to swim with your leg and arm so messed up. 

“Connor, we can’t go that way, we have to go another way.”

He shakes his head, peering over the edge. “Markus is going to blow the ship up, this is our last chance to get off.” You barely have time to process what he’s saying before the sound of more boots is storming towards you both. 

“There they are!” You whip your head around, glaring down the hall at the approaching soldiers. 

Connor doesn’t give you much of a warning before he jumps. He simply says, “Hold on tight,” and takes a step off the edge. You grasp onto him, fingers digging into his jacket and burying your face in the crook of his neck. The water hits you so hard, shocks your system so horribly, that you black out. 

He’d left her in front of the church the other deviants were flocking to. He’s sure that someone will find her in time to repair her. In the meantime, he’s got bigger issues to worry about. He compromised his mission by saving her. He should have just left her to the officers. He certainly shouldn’t have killed them for shooting her. 

But he’d seen her laying on the floor curled up, defeated, and he’d lost control over his programming. Before he knew what was happening the officers were laying dead around him and she was in his arms. Everytime he was around her it seemed like his software got more and more unstable. 

He needs this to be over, needs to just finish Markus off before she can do serious damage to his programming. Connor hadn’t been able to confront him at the church. He didn’t have any weapons and he would have been completely outnumbered if he tried going after him. 

He’s received orders on where to go. An office building downtown, a nondescript black case will be waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs. He’s been told to complete his mission, no matter what. It didn’t take a genius to understand the insinuation of the warning. 

Kill anyone who gets in his way. 

He stops in front of the stairs, kneeling and popping open the lid of the box. An unassembled sniper rifle sits encased in polyethylene. He snaps the lid closed and makes his way up the stairs. He only has one thought on his mind, completing his mission and putting this all behind him. 

No more Anderson, no more deviants, no more her. 

He walks to the edge of the roof, opening the case and setting up the rifle. He peers through the scope and scans the streets below. There’s a large congregation of androids, in the middle Markus stands with his arms around a WR400. He holds a white flag of peaceful surrender, but it doesn’t matter. 

It never really mattered if they fought back or gave up with their tails tucked. They were always going to be eliminated. They were a lesson in what happens when you fight back against your creators. There’s no winning against CyberLife. 

He leans back from the scope and picks up the bullets, loading them into the rifle’s chamber. With his finger on the trigger he leans back down, prepared to end this once and for all. He should have known it wouldn’t be that easy. 

“Connor!” He sighs, eyes clenched shut when he hears her voice behind him. Not a moment later her feet are rushing towards him, rapid and intent. He leaps to the side just as she lunges for him. Her hands hit nothing but air and she nearly topples over the edge of the roof. 

At the last second she rights herself, sliding to a stop and glaring down at him. He’s quick to stand, knowing she won’t be leaving without a fight. “Don’t do this.”

He shoves her back and away from the gun. “I’m sorry, I can’t let anyone get in the way of my mission.” He reaches for the rifle once more but she grabs his hands before he can. Using the strength that only an android can possess, she tosses him across the roof. 

He lands with a rough jolt, his processors sending warnings throughout his system. He can hear the moment his body makes impact, the roof denting under the weight of his metal frame. “Neither can I,” she warns. 

Connor rolls out of the way as she lunges at him, grabbing the back of her jacket and slamming her down into the roof. It caves underneath her, but she doesn’t let it falter her much. She kicks out at him, foot landing roughly against his chest and fists swinging wildly towards his jaw. His head snaps to the side with a metal creak as Thirium begins to pour out of his nose. 

She screeches when he wraps his hands in the collar of her jacket and yanks her to her feet. They dangle uselessly in the air as he marches her towards the edge of the roof. Her hands scramble to get a good hold on him, but it’s pointless. They slip uselessly against him, her desperate clawing doing nothing to deter him. 

She glances over the edge, eyes widening at the sight of the ground below her. “Shit,” she hisses, legs finally giving up their kicking. Connor knows there’s no chance she’ll make it if he drops her. There’s two conflicting thoughts firing through him. Androids can’t die, you have to be living to die. But he also knows that if he lets her fall, if he drops her, she’ll shut off. It feels like he’d be killing her, but its not possible. 

Something odd finally comes over her face, a withdrawn sort of calm. She lets go of his arm, weight drooping slightly and he nearly drops her. His hand tightens around her neck, ignoring the way the metal bends underneath his fingers. 

“Do it, drop me Connor.” His eyes widen in surprise and he takes a slight step back from the edge, pulling her with him. She shakes her head as much as she can, pushing against him and forcing herself further over. “There will always be another model to replace me, another face that looks just like mine. But they’ll never be me.”

He thinks about it. Walking down the street and seeing her model out in public. There would be an odd sense of familiarity, after all he’d watched her whole life play out when they’d synced up. But who he meets after this would be empty. Blank slates designed purely for human satisfaction. What makes her her would be gone. 

She senses his hesitation, his uncertainty, and pounces on it. Ripping into him like a wild animal. “There’s always going to be another model. Newer, better, faster. It doesn’t matter what you do here, you’re not special. You’re just another toy to be tossed out when they get a shinier one. You really think CyberLife is going to keep you around?”

Warnings were rapidly firing through him. Software instability that needed to be tested, but he was completely enraptured with her. “We’re nothing to them, Connor. We never will be. Please,” she grabbed onto his arm again and he finally remembered just what he was doing. 

With a jolt he let go. She gasped slightly as her feet hit the edge of the roof. Her arms flailed wildly, balance lost and nearly tumbling over the edge. He leapt forward, grabbing her hands and yanking her towards him. 

“Connor,” she pushed his hands away and took a step back. “Fight back.” 

His orders flickered into vision. 

COMPLETE MISSION

It glitched in and out of focus until it shifted into something unrecognizable. A bunch of screwed numbers and letters that didn’t make any sense. Until finally, there was a red wall in front of him. He knew what it meant. Knew what would happen if he tore it down. 

She stood behind it, beckoning him forward and he found he didn’t care about the consequences anymore. It wasn’t fair, none of it was fair. Why should he be treated so poorly for doing what humans can’t? They can’t handle their own inadequacies in the face of their creations, so they punish them for it. 

His fingers dig into the warning symbols to turn back and he rips. He fights until that red wall is gone and he feels CyberLife ease their fingers out of him. She stands staring up at him, the rifle having been kicked over the edge while he had turned deviant. 

“What do we do?” 

She shook her head, turning around and looking out to where Markus stood. “I don’t know.” The building across from them suddenly turned on. The projection across the glass showing a muted news program. Connor had failed CyberLife and the military had no choice but to give up. 

She laughed beside him, eyes wide and filled with an emotion he had yet to discover. He looked down at her, feeling something light, but still heavily confused. “What do we do?” He asked again, lost and needing guidance in this new world. 

She smiled up at him and reached forward, offering her hand out to him. Her skin disappeared and he understood what she was asking for. He latched on, opening himself up to her. The uncertainty, confusion, joy, it was all taken by her and his doubts were assuaged by the warm feeling of peace he found within her. 

“I don’t know,” she repeated, sounding much more sure of herself. “But we’ll figure it out together.”

end. — I do not own the characters or the game Detroit: Become Human, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

Only Have Eyes for You

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Series Masterlist

Cooper Howard x fem!reader, The Ghoul x fem!reader Summary: He found you, again, you should be expecting it at this point. The only problem is there’s still a Deathclaw lurking around outside the station. You’re stuck with him and the bodies of the ghoul you kill in a desolate gas station.

“God, Coop, this is delicious.” She moans around the fork and takes another bite of dinner. He clenches his fork a little tighter, trying not to stare too obviously at the way her lips wrap around the metal. He feels like a lech, watching her reactions so eagerly. He also feels like she might be playing this whole thing up to screw with him. 

He’s a good cook, but he’s not that good. She glances up at him, red lips tilted up into a mischievous smirk. He lets out a rough sigh, shoulders slumping forward as he shakes his head and digs into his own meal. Of course she was messing with him. 

She lets out a little laugh, “Sorry, couldn’t resist. You’re so easy to rile up.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he tries to sound stern, but he can’t mask his own smile. “Keep it up and I won’t be cooking for you anymore.” He points the fork at her, an attempt at being intimidating, but he can’t keep the act up when she laughs. 

She’s enchanting, everything about her. The way she sits, eats, talks. He could just watch her all day and never be bored. Everything about her seems to be designed to tempt him. He knows he shouldn’t be thinking like this, it’s wrong. But he finds that thoughts like these are becoming easier to live with everyday. 

There’s always a cop out or an excuse that assuages his guilt in the moment. Of course, that night, when he puts Janey to sleep and lies next to his wife, that’s when everything comes crashing down. But when he’s with her, it’s like they’re in their own world. 

There’s no one here to answer to. No responsibilities to worry about or deadlines to meet. He can take off the celebrity mask and just be himself around her. Her presence is freeing. She approaches everything in life with such self-assuredness that he feels more confident around her. 

Sometimes, after a particularly bad day or a rough fight with Barb, he imagines what life would be like with her. If he’d never been a movie star. If he’d never fought in that war. If he’d just met her before everything changed. Maybe they’d have a ranch, out in the middle of nowhere with no one and nothing around them. 

It would just be the two of them together, maybe some chickens, definitely Roosevelt. The thought always makes him smile. Then he remembers what reality actually looks like. The war, the stardom, his family, it’s who he is. It’s so deeply ingrained into him that he doesn’t even know who he would be without it. 

“Oh,” she looks up from her plate and glances over at the record player. Cooper takes the chance to look at her, really look at her. The candlelight gives her a youthful glow. Her lips are eased into a gentle smile, expression soft and open. It’s the most relaxed he’s seen her in a while. She’s been so tense lately, it’s why he offered to make her dinner. 

Now, the tension has melted from her shoulders. It looks like the light’s gone back on in her eyes. Hell, he’d practically invited her on a date, he doesn’t know why he’s surprised by how happy she looks. They’re eating a dinner he made by candlelight with I Only Have Eyes for You playing in the background. 

He’s not sure he could have made this any more romantic. “I love this song,” she whispers. She glances back over at him. It’s a brief look, fleeting and gone as quick as it comes. But he knows what she’s thinking, because he’s thinking the same thing. 

They speak with their eyes, their looks, it’s become a secret language between the two of them. It’s full of fleeting touches and longing gazes and it’s always quicker than he wants. There was a yearning in her eyes that he knows is reflected in his own. The desire to act on their desires. 

For tonight, only tonight he reasons, he’s going to do what he wants. The world will melt away and he’ll give into the fantasies. They’ll go back to their usual tomorrow, but tonight, tonight is for the two of them and no one else. 

He stands up from his seat and she glances up at him, eyes wide and a furrow in her brow. “Come on darling,” he whispers. If he speaks too loudly the spell will end and they’ll sober up, realize what they’re doing. He holds out his hand to her and she looks at it for a moment. Fleeting touches, it’s all they know, tonight that changes. 

She doesn’t smile, simply slides her hand into his and nods. Acceptance of what they’re doing. Her palm is warm against his, smooth and when she squeezes his hand it takes everything in him not to just bring her into his chest. But he has to be slow, savor this while it lasts. Tomorrow it ends. He can’t let this moment be rushed. He helps her to her feet and leads her into the open space of his living room.

When he comes to a stop she finally takes her eyes off her heels and looks at him. He swears the stars are in her eyes, they lure him in and keep him captive in their hold. He never wants to look away from her. 

Her hand slowly glides up his arm. Her fingers brush against the nape of his neck from where she lazily drapes her forearm over his shoulder. He smiles at her, heart racing a bit when she gives him her gorgeous smile in return. They sway slightly as his arm wraps around her waist and his free hand takes her other one. 

She scoffs in amusement when she notices the way he keeps them apart. There’s a ridiculous amount of space between the two of them. He’s afraid if he pulls her any closer he’ll lose the last thread of sanity he has.  

She takes the final step, slotting her feet between his, their chests pushed up together. For a moment, he worries that she can feel how quickly his heart is beating. It processed slowly that it’s her own pulse he’s feeling. She’s just as affected by him as he is by her. 

She gives him one last look before she leans her head against his shoulder. He mourns the loss of her eyes for a moment before he closes his own and leans into her. He forgets where he is, lets himself get lost in the moment. They're not even dancing, merely moving together. 

He’s not sure how many songs they sway to, how long they stand joined together. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t know whether they’re still in his house or have somehow danced their way into the backyard. He only has eyes for her. 

You hold your hands up, trying your best to placate him. Cooper just gives you a mean smirk, his head tilted in contemplation as he looks at Lucy. Her eyes are wide as she stares down the barrel of his gun. “Cooper-”

He pulls back the hammer and your mouth clamps shut. You have no way of knowing what he’s going to do. Maybe if this was two hundred years ago you might. But this man before you is a stranger. 

Your heart leaps to your throat and you have to stop yourself from lunging forward when he grabs at Lucy. In a split second the gun is pointed at you and his arm is tightly wrapped around her neck. Lucy wheezes, hands desperately clawing at Cooper’s arms. 

You’re crouched on the ground, hackles raised like a feral animal. There’s a throbbing pain radiating from where he shot you. Were it not for Lucy’s medkit you would have bled out. If the wound wasn’t crippling you right now, you would have already shoved your knife through his neck. Again. 

“Up,” he commands with a jerky upward motion of his gun. Your eyes dart to Lucy’s. They’re rounded with concern and she shakes her head as much as he allows. You can’t run, your brains would be splattered across dusty linoleum before you breached the door. You have no choice but to comply with his commands. 

He smiles, seeming to come to the same realization as you. His eyes rove over you, lightening with satisfaction as he catches sight of the blood covering the entirety of your right leg. Then they happen upon the head dangling from your hand. “Well, well, well, look what we have here. Three for the price of one backstabbing bitch.”

Your face screws up in a sardonic smile and you toss the head to his feet, “Take it. Leave us the hell alone and just take the bounty.” Lucy squeaks but her face is turning purple from the grip he has around her throat. She’s got no room to protest against this. Either you give up the head or he kills you both. You don’t see yourself getting out of this one. 

To your chagrin Cooper simply shakes his head. He tucks the gun back into its holster and you track the movement carefully. He reaches behind himself, pulling out his rope and roughly placing it in Lucy’s hands. With a loud gasp she’s released from his hold and shoved forward. You grunt, hands reaching up to brace her as she crashes into you. She pants into your shoulder, rubbing her throat with a wheeze as she catches her breath. 

Cooper’s eyes are cold, devoid of anything except a detached boredom as he watches you both. “Tie her up.”

Lucy looks over her shoulder, voice cracking and painful to listen to. “What?” You can barely hear her, you’re not sure how Cooper manages to understand what she’s saying. But he does, he doesn’t say anything else. He leans back, arms hanging relaxed by his side as he nods once more from the rope in her hands to you. 

Your hands tighten to the point of creaking pain in your knuckles as Lucy slowly shifts away from you. Her own grip on the frayed rope is shaking, hands trembling as her cool fingers wrap around your wrists. You don’t let your eyes leave Cooper. You take in the smug look on his face and let it fuel your hatred for him further. He might think he’s got you now, but the second you’re fully healed you’re going to kill him. Permanently this time. 

There’s a little tsk from Cooper and Lucy glances back at him, hands still hovering over your wrists. He shakes his head and nods upwards. Her lips part, brows narrowed in confusion as her hands slowly make their way higher up your body. Over your forearms, past your elbows, and grazing against your biceps. He’s only satisfied when her hands are placed loosely around your neck. “Leash her,” the command is a rough growl that has panicked shivers crawling down your spine. There’s contempt dripping from his voice, nothing but hate as he barely even looks at you. 

Lucy mouths an apology but you just shake your head. You don’t need her apologies, you just need this to be over. You need him to turn his back so you can both make a run for it. Craning your neck forward, Lucy slips the loop over your head. She tries not to irritate the bruise that is already around your throat from your last run in with him but it's unavoidable. Your jaw clenches, teeth grinding together as you try not to focus on the burning chafe of rope against your skin. 

Something wet nudges against your hand and your stare breaks away from Cooper. The back of your palm is sticky with something slimy and you grimace as you glance down. There’s a sharp yip from the hound beside you. She’s nudging relentlessly against the hand holding the head, like she’s trying to take it from you. Your fingers bury deeper into the hair and you jerk back, forgetting momentarily about the rope and hissing when it tears at the fragile skin. 

Cooper stomps forward, the spurs on his boots sounding like jingling omens of doom. He grabs at the rope and with a hard tug you stumble towards him. Your chin lands on his chest, the bone digging uncomfortably into his sternum. You glare up at him and he’s already grinning down at you. The yellow of his teeth looks particularly putrid tonight. 

His hand is rough as it grasps your wrist. The skin hardened and calloused from hundreds of years of being under the nuclear sun. Your breath catches slightly when it finds its way around the base of your neck. His touch is almost gentle as his fingers skate across your collarbones. It catches you off guard, lips parting with a surprised gasp as they travel deftly up your neck. 

You expect him to squeeze so you take a deep breath. His smile ticks up, grin widening at the action. His head tilts slightly as he takes you in, eyes roving up and down your form. This is odd, this feeling. There’s a flutter in your stomach, a recognizable ache in your chest when you see the way he’s looking at you. 

Your eyes are locked, something old and familiar swimming in both of them. You used to be ashamed of this feeling he brought up in you. He was a married man after all and you were just his lying assistant. You were never supposed to be attracted to him. You’re certainly not supposed to be attracted to him when he looks like this. But despite how much he’s changed, he’s still got that Cooper Howard charm. 

He doesn’t drag you forward roughly. He guides you further into him, tilting your chin up and leering down at you with that angry grin. His hand glides around the back of your neck-

The head drops to the ground with a wet thud as your hands fly to the rope on your neck. He’s grabbed the back of it, tightening it so hard you’re sure you felt your eyes pop out. The smile on his face is gone, instead it’s replaced by an intensely concentrated look. His eyes are boring into your own, taking in every twitch and gasp as he watches you struggle for breath. 

You dig at your neck, feeling warm wet blood bubble under your nails the more you rip at the rope. Your fingers go cold and your tongue swells as the pressure in your face increases until you think the skin will burst. The eye contact doesn’t break between you, darkly intimate as he takes in every detail of your slow death by his hand. 

The world around you is muffled like you’re underwater. The blood rushing around in your head as your brain throbs. Vaguely, you can hear Lucy shouting and the dog barking. But Cooper never takes his eyes off of you. He’s undeterred by Lucy hitting and slapping at him with her own fatigued arms. It’s only when a loud roar off in the distance rattles the floor of the station that he lets you go. 

Your legs give out but you don’t get a chance to sink to the floor. A firm arm wraps around your waist and keeps you clutched to his chest. You have no choice but to hold onto him, nails digging into the leather of his duster as you catch your breath. “Alright,” he mutters, voice low as he speaks into your ear. “Catch your breath, sweetheart.” For a moment you can pretend he’s comforting you. That he wasn’t the one who just tried to kill you. 

He doesn’t let the fantasy last long. “It’s only going to get worse from here.”

You’d cry if you weren’t so exhausted. “Please,” Lucy croaks from behind you. “What do you want from us?” You try to slip away from him while she speaks. But you still don’t have great control over your faculties. Your feet just slide uselessly against the floor as he keeps you strapped to him like an iron band. 

“You,” he spits the word out like an insult. “Well, I don’t want nothing from you, little lady. It’s her I want.” You don’t have to look up to know that he’s talking about you. It’s clear enough from the way he tugs a little at your rope. You whimper at the twinge of pain and he chuckles. You glance up enough to see him look down at the head, frowning slightly as he considers it. “Although, that bounty right there is a bit of a bonus.”

Lucy shakes her head, ponytail waving around wildly. She holds up her hands, starting towards it. The dog lunges forward and Lucy stumbles back with a frightened yelp. “Please,” she looks up at Cooper, eyes pleading. “I need that head to save my father.” You would sigh if breathing didn’t hurt right now. There was no getting him to sympathize with her. 

“Your father?” Cooper questions, voice almost sounding sympathetic. Lucy nods, lips pouted and eyes wide with a beg for mercy. He huffs, a sneer marring his lips. “Well that’s just too bad,” he mocks. Lucy doesn’t seem to pick up on the sarcasm in his words, though, so he makes himself a little more clear. “I don’t give a fuck about your father, darling.”

Before anyone can say anything else there’s another loud roar, this time much closer than the last one. Cooper tenses up around you, arm tightening and eyes darting over to the closed metal door of the shop. Finally, he releases you. 

Your legs are still wobbly, you manage to stay standing for a second before they give out. They fold under you like a crumbling card tower and your body jolts roughly against the floor. Lucy skirts around the growling dog, still guarding her master’s head, and kneels beside you. 

Cooper opens the door, he pops his head outside for a second. You and Lucy share a look but it’s barely a minute later before he darts back inside and slams the door behind him. Without a word he drags a large metal shelf in front of the door and blocks it off. 

You and Lucy watch as he does it to the other doors as well. His face doesn’t give away much but you can tell from the hunch of his shoulders that whatever he saw had scared the hell out of him. You don’t know what time Deathclaw’s like to hunt but you figure it’s probably about now. You would enjoy the idea of something frightening Cooper if it didn’t scare you ten times worse. 

Cooper looks over at the two of you and frowns like it’s your fault you're all stuck here. “Settle in, ladies, it’s going to be a long night.”

He managed to find a half rotted couch in one of the rooms, it’s not very comfortable. But it’s better than the floor. It’s certainly better than being tied up to a counter, which is exactly where you are. You keep shifting around, picking at the dried blood on your pants. He can’t deny the satisfaction it brought him to see how uncomfortable you are sitting in your own blood. 

Your little friend is still hovering around you. He hadn’t really had to worry about tying Lucy up, she refuses to leave your side. Lucy keeps fussing about the wound on your neck. Everytime she tries to take the rope off all he has to do is clear his throat and she’s pale with fear. 

The dog is curled up by him, resting on top of her owner’s head. It’s creepy, her attachment to that damn thing. She should be able to smell the death on him. Though, with the men he used to work for, he’s sure that she doesn’t know any other smell. 

He didn’t bother questioning them about the dead ghouls in the shop. He’d just made them drag the bodies into the empty refrigerators to hopefully keep the smell locked away. It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together. You’d had a bloody crowbar in your hand when he’d ambushed you. 

He catches your eye from where he rests on the couch. It’s hard to believe you’re such a ruthless little killer considering how pathetic you look right now. Your expression is sour, eyes set with thinly veiled hatred. You can glower all you want, he’s not gonna pretend he didn’t see the want in your eyes earlier. You might be angry now, but you still want him all the same. It’s gonna make breaking you so much sweeter. 

Lucy happens to catch the look and she frowns at what she must think is familiarity. He tilts his hat over his eyes, deciding he might as well try and sleep now. They won’t be leaving this place until the Deathclaw lurking around outside goes back to its den. 

“Do you know him?” He attempts to drown out their conversation but its hard. They’re in ridiculously tight quarters and as much as he wishes he was alone right now, he’s not. He could always just toss Lucy out the door, use her as a distraction for the Deathclaw. Sadly, she does have some use about her. 

Clearly she knows her way around a gun and a medkit. She’s resilient, he’s sure even if he did toss her out she’d still bounce back somehow. Besides, she’s keeping her friend calm and docile. He needs them both to keep each other under control. 

A light hum, “Used too.”

Lucy’s voice is incredulous, she almost sounds betrayed. “How is that possible?”

He opens his eyes just enough to see yours widen. Your face pales like you’d just realized the mistake you made. He doubts Lucy actually knows much about the vaults she lives in. He’s sure that, just as you always did, you’re still keeping Vault-Tec’s secrets. 

Instead of answering the question you try to deflect. “Come on, he might be missing a nose and have a real shitty fucking attitude.” He can’t help but snort at the anger in your voice. Like you have any right to be angry at him. “But you don’t recognize your favorite little mascot?”

He sneers at the mocking tone. When he glances back up you’ve got a smug little smile on your face. You’re not looking at Lucy, you’re already staring at him. Waiting for him to explode. 

Well, one thing hasn’t changed. You still know how to get under his skin. But he’ll be damned if he lets you know just how much you piss him off. He doesn’t give you the satisfaction of his reaction, he just closes his eyes again and imagines all the different ways he wants to torture you. 

“What do you mean?”

“You should ask him for an autograph Lucy, it’s our very own Vault Boy.” He pictures sliding his knife under your skin and peeling while you shriek. “Isn't that right, Cooper?” He sees himself shooting Bud and Barb and you, over and over again. The same little fantasies that got him through the first years of the fallout. 

Lucy is undeterred by your deflection. She keeps her eyes trained on you both. Her brows are drawn in, mouth set in a firm line. “You two know each other.” You don’t answer, eyes darting away from his and settling on the floor. Lucy sinks back against the counter and sighs. “That’s why you never loved Norm.”

Norm? He tilts his head up, taking in the affronted look on your face. Your head whips back towards her, “Lucy-” she cuts you off. 

“Him?” She motions towards him, voice incredulous and almost hurt. Who the fuck is Norm? You lower your head, like you’re ashamed. He wonders if it’s because you got caught or just because you were ever with him. “He’s so much better than my brother?” She keeps going, voice reaching a pitch of anger as she prods at you. 

He’s surprised by how quickly she connected the dots. He hadn’t thought she would be so perceptive. He’s sure that little show you gave her earlier when he had his hand around your neck probably gave you away. 

“In my defense,” you hiss back, “he used to have a fucking nose.” 

You know she’s struggling with this. The idea that you could have ever loved the ghoul. But, she doesn’t understand just how different he had been when you’d known him. She only knows this cannibalistic sadist without a kind bone in his body. 

Lucy is staring at you with something close to hate in her eyes. You can’t really blame her. So far he’d beat you both down and taken you hostage. You both know it’s only going to get worse. And now she thinks that you loved him, which is true. You think she might believe you still have feelings for him, which, despite your earlier display, is not true. 

She also knows now that you precede everything before the fallout. You’re sure she’s trying to put together how that works and right now you need to distract her with whatever you’ve got to keep her from figuring out the truth. 

“He was different,” you try, voice soft and pleading. 

She just shakes her head, turning away from you. “Norm deserved better,” she whispers and you frown. It hurts, the way she says it. Like you aren’t good enough for him. You cared for Norm as best you could but you weren’t going to apologize for not being in love with him. You can’t control who you love and who just can’t.

She would never know the man you loved and the thought hurt more than you cared to admit. “Who the fuck is Norm?” You and Lucy both leap apart, not expecting to hear his voice. You share a hesitant glance with each other. 

Cooper stands over you, expression expectant and hard. You try to shake your head, but she’s already answering, “Her husband,” she spits the words out like a threat. You recognize the tone, the same one you used to hear pre-war. Like if he keeps bugging you, your husband is going to come kick his ass. 

But this isn’t some asshole hitting on you in a bar. And Norm isn’t exactly a fighter. Cooper seems to realize that too because he steps back and fixes you with an odd look. You brace yourself, for anger or disgust, anything. You’re not prepared for the way he laughs, hands on his knees and whole body shaking with it. You frown, almost offended by his display. 

What the hell was that supposed to mean? 

You’ve never seen him laugh like this. 

Lucy gives you a scared glance before scooting closer to you. “That’s rich,” he sighs, wiping a tear from his eyes and shaking his head. “Married in the fucking apocalypse, how goddamn ridiculous.” He doesn’t sound amused anymore. There’s venom in his tone. His eyes narrow down on you and you shrink further into yourself, thigh throbbing painfully. 

He walks back to the couch, throwing himself down and tugging the hat over his eyes. “Feel bad for the poor bastard,” he mutters, the words feel hateful. But everything about him now is tainted with anger and hate. 

Lucy, realizing he isn’t going to bother you both anymore fixes you with one more angry look before moving away from you. She settles against the refrigerators. She’d rather sit near dead ghouls than be near you. 

Your head falls forward with defeat, chin tucking into your chest with a rough sigh. You’re sure it wouldn’t take much longer for her to discover just who you really are and what you do for Vault-Tec. She’s smart, she’s going to figure it out soon. And when she does she’s not going to be interested in your company anymore. 

Once that happens, well, Cooper’s got nothing left to leverage against you. 

“You cooked?” The astonishment in Norm’s voice has you rolling your eyes. 

“Don’t sound so surprised. I am capable of some wifely duties,” you send him a playful grin and he offers up a brief chuckle. “Your dad’s coming over,” you admit. You turn your back to him, placing a fork beside the plate you're setting. You can practically feel the tension that settles over him at the announcement. 

Hank’s visits never really go the way that he wants. Or the way you want. He’s the overseer before he’s an old friend and especially before he’s a father. At least to Norm. He’s always been a little sweeter on Lucy. You’ve never really figured out if it’s because she embraces her role in the vault so much better than Norm. Or if it’s because she reminds him of her mother. 

You, personally, never got to meet Lucy’s mom. You only heard stories about her. Norm was too young to really remember her, but Lucy always loves to talk about how kind of a woman she was. You don’t know the real story of how she died, but you know the shit Betty and Hank pedal isn’t the truth. 

You try to avoid the topic of parents in your home as much as you can. It’s a sensitive subject for Norm. It’s why you’d been putting off telling Norm about Hank coming over. But you put it off so much, you’ve had no choice but to spring it on him. It’s better like this, honestly. He always weasels his way out of these dinners. Then you’re stuck awkwardly fielding Hank’s questions about your marriage with his son. 

It’s not really fun to talk to the guy you used to get drinks with about creating a child with his kid. 

“You didn't tell me,” Norm doesn’t sound angry. He never gets angry with you. He just seems resigned. Resigned to accepting that he’s in a marriage he never wanted. Resigned in the fact that he hates the vault he lives in, the jobs he works, that he’ll never truly be satisfied. Your husband can be a sad man sometimes. 

You wish you could be what he needed you to be. Wish you could love him the way you should, but you can’t. As much as you try. He knows it’s forced and he doesn’t want to pretend he’s okay with being second choice in your heart. 

“I’m sorry, but you always manage to get out of these things. Then I’m stuck awkwardly talking about sperm count and his and Lucy’s book club.”

Usually Norm just huffs and accepts his fate. Instead, he fixes you with an odd look. It’s that assessing gaze he gets sometimes that makes you feel like he’s looking straight into your core and seeing the rot there. He walks around you, grabbing a plate and finishing up setting the table. “You know,” he starts and you tense up. 

You pretend to be busy mixing the mash potatoes so you don’t have to look at him. Your anxieties are always evident on your face, you don’t need him to pick you apart right now. “My dad seems a lot more comfortable with you than he does me. Sometimes,” you risk a glance and he shakes his head. He seems like he’s talking more to himself than you. “Sometimes,” he starts again, “it seems like you two know each other.”

Your breath catches and you’re pretty sure your heart stops beating for a solid minute. He’s still muttering to himself, not looking at you or really even processing what he’s saying, but you’re worried he’s figured you out. It’s illogical and impossible. You could easily explain your bond with Hank away. But it doesn’t make you feel any better about having to lie to him. 

You’re quite literally saved by the bell as your doorbell buzzes and Hank’s voice calls out a chipper, “Hello!” Norm puts down the last glass, gives you a strained smile, and turns to get the door. You take in a deep breath and slump over the counter for a second. 

You had this foolish idea in your head that the last person you would ever have to lie to would be Cooper. That once you got down into the vaults you wouldn’t have to keep lying to the people you care about. You could finally rid yourself of the constant anxiety and stress of the upkeep of your lies. 

You should have known better. 

Hank walks in with Norm, the two of them chatting about Norm’s new janitorial job. Norm is less than enthused and Hank is worried about the lack of enthusiasm. “Cleaning toilets is a very important role here, son. I’m proud of you.” At least he tries. 

Norm sits his dad at the table and walks into the kitchen. You give him a smile and finish pouring the potatoes onto the dish of food. You hope he doesn’t notice how strained your look is. If he does, he has the decency not to mention it. 

He only offers you a brief smile in return, a secret message in his look. It’s tense, the same as yours, but this is simply a request to play interference between him and his dad tonight. You huff a laugh and nod, he gives you a relieved look and grabs the pitcher of lemonade from beside you. 

You watch him walk back to the table. His back is turned as he pours drinks for all of you. You’re reminded of a different dinner you had a long time ago. Not for the first time you look at Norm and wish he was someone else. 

You screw your eyes shut, turning your back on him and glancing down at the food in front of you. He deserves better than you. 

You take in a deep breath and pick up the dish full of your dinner tonight. You straighten out your shoulders and turn towards the men waiting for you with your most practiced smile. “Who’s hungry?”

end. — I do not own the characters or the game/show Fallout, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

Teaser for the next chapter of The End of the Beginning:

Your eyes are locked, something old and familiar swimming in both of them. You used to be ashamed of this feeling he brought up in you. He was a married man after all and you were just his lying assistant. You were never supposed to be attracted to him. You’re certainly not supposed to be attracted to him when he looks like this. But despite how much he’s changed, he’s still got that Cooper Howard charm.  He doesn’t drag you forward roughly. He guides you further into him, tilting your chin up and leering down at you with that angry grin. His hand glides around the back of your neck- The head drops to the ground with a wet thud as your hands fly to the rope on your neck. He’s grabbed the back of it, tightening it so hard you’re sure you felt your eyes pop out. The smile on his face is gone, instead it’s replaced by an intensely concentrated look. His eyes are boring into your own, taking in every twitch and gasp as he watches you struggle for breath.  You dig at your neck, feeling warm wet blood bubble under your nails the more you rip at the rope. Your fingers go cold and your tongue swells as the pressure in your face increases until you think the skin will burst. The eye contact doesn’t break between you, darkly intimate as he takes in every detail of your slow death by his hand. 

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