Work Text:
Vault City was the closest thing you could get to a sprawling metropolis this side of The Hub, and the large city-state attracted all manner of wanderers and traders alike to seek shelter and supplies within its walls.
One of these merchants was Vic, a wasteland trader with a portly frame and a head for pre-war technology, attracted to the settlement by its potential trades and wealth of technology.
The citizens of Vault City welcomed Vic with open arms, eager to learn about his travels through the wasteland and trade goods from other cities, and over time, Vic became a valued friend and confidant to many in the city, sharing his stories and knowledge of the wasteland with anyone who would listen.
It was on one of these days as Vic discussed the trade routes he had traveled with a group of Vault City citizens, he noticed a woman in the crowd; tall and slender, with long blonde hair cascading down her back like a honey waterfall.
The woman met his gaze and smiled, and Vic felt his heart skip a beat.
He excused himself from the conversation, and quickly, as if magnetically drawn, he made his way over to her. They struck up a conversation, and Vic soon found himself entranced by her beauty and intelligence.
Before long, they were deep in discussion about Vic's travels, the woman hanging on his every word.
*
It was a quick courtship, even by wasteland standards, but Jackie and Vic had fallen hard and fast with each other, and by the year's end, they had produced a darling baby girl.
Vic was over the moon, but as further time went on, tensions began to grow between the two. While Jackie was bustling about Vault City keeping busy with social events and managing political affairs alongside their daughter Valerie, Vic had grown restless; he longed for the thrill of adventure in the wasteland, yearning to explore new frontiers and unveil more secrets of the old world. The wastes called to him like a siren-song.
Finally, after one heated argument too many and a handful of insults that he could not take back, Vic left with his head high and spirits low in search of the life that he had left behind.
*
It was not long before the man found himself inside the walls of Klamath and at the open doorway of the Bathhouse, in the arms of an escort named Jenny. The woman was a beguiling combination of brains and beauty that drew Vic to her like a moth to a flame.
Jenny was of a different breed to his Jackie back in Vault City, the woman whom he had taken to calling the ‘Desert Viper’. He still visited Vault City to see his daughter - certainly not her mother - but the visits rapidly diminished over time as he began his trader lifestyle anew, his family in that glittering city now only the remnant of a memory that he saw from time to time.
On the odd occasion, a gnawing guilt would claw at his mind like an unwanted parasite; a lingering feeling that perhaps he had been wrong to let his relationship with the family he created fizzle out so quickly, that perhaps he should have taken a bit more time and effort to see past their petty disagreements and attempt to grow a relationship with the daughter he had never truly known.
Yet there was little chance that he could ever convince himself to return to Vault City; and it was certainly too late now to try and mend fences with Jackie and his child. He knew he would always have a hole in his heart where the very essence of his love lay.
Still, he tried, and this is why every night that Vic found himself near the Klamath Bathhouse, he would find himself time and time again with Jenny, giving her a love that he did not have for the family that was once his.
“You’re a strange one,” she said to him once, “Sounds like you should be running far and fast with the attitude you have.”
“I go with the wind,” Vic said to her, “I'm always one step ahead of the mob.”
Jenny chuckled to herself, clucking her tongue, “That I can see, but I still don't understand what you are doing here. It is not wise to stray so far from your kid.”
"When I'm trading, I prefer not to think about her too much."
As the pair drifted into an uneasy silence, Vic often caught a few stolen glances from the woman, no doubt scrutinising his face.
Sometimes, he wished she would hate him.
Maybe it would be easier to leave.
