Chapter Text
There was a moment, right before she opened her eyes, that Lucy thought her dream might have been reality…that she was tucked into bed beside her new husband, only this time, there had been no distant screaming and no knife in her stomach and no blender blade ripping his face open. That all of that had been the dream, and Monty was just a man from Vault 32 who had been chosen to be her husband, and who she had been so nervous and excited to meet. Just a man that would hopefully impregnate her so that they could raise the next generation of Americans who would one day reclaim the surface and bring civilization back to the world, fulfilling the purpose of their vault. And maybe she’d even get to see it! Her children and Steph’s would be friends, and they’d sit together and watch their children play. In her dream, she’d almost been able to see it…her and her husband and her best friend and her brother, all of them watching their children run and play under the projected sun.
Only the projected sun wasn’t that bright. Her eyes flew open, and she winced at the brightness of it as it started to rise over the horizon. Nothing in the vault had been that bright. And in only seconds, the dream was gone, replaced by the absolute reality of her situation. Wincing at the way her back twinged and wishing for her clean, comfortable mattress, she pushed herself upright, looking around the makeshift campsite her new companion had set up the night before.
In the bright light of day, she wondered what had possessed her to follow the Ghoul out of that Observatory where her whole world had come crashing down around her…where she’d put a bullet through her mother’s skull. Only it hadn’t been her mother. Of course it hadn’t been her mother. Not anymore. She wouldn't let herself think that. Her mother had been gone for a long time. Her mother was dead and her father…her father was a monster. And somehow the Ghoul knew her father and…and instead of tying her up again or shooting her or cutting off another finger, he’d invited her to come along with him to find her father.
To meet her makers.
And she had.
She’d shot her mother and she’d gotten up and she’d walked out into the night, following at his heels like that dog he insisted wasn’t his as the Brotherhood of Steel had fought Moldaver’s people outside.
She hadn’t asked him any questions…had been too wrung out and exhausted and maybe even in shock to do more than nod when he’d finally told her they’d be stopping for the night. And so they’d stopped, and she’d laid right in the dirt, curled up on her side, and had cried herself into dreams of a husband who would never stab her and a father who would never betray her and a vault that was safe…that was her home. It hadn’t occurred to her that he might kill her in her sleep…that he might just have brought her along to slit her throat and make ass jerky out of her. A snack for the road.
At least he hadn’t said anything about the crying.
Lucy knew what shock was. She knew about trauma and she knew that traumatic events could lead to changes in brain chemistry, and so, she told herself as she sat up and squinted into the sunlight that threatened to blind her and remind her of her mother all at once, that’s what had happened. Something traumatic had happened to her. Several somethings, in fact, starting with her wedding night. And now her brain chemistry was different and…and that different brain chemistry had made her leave a man who’d been kind to her…the first person who might actually be her friend up here on the surface, and instead follow the man who’d tried to sell her organs for whatever was in those little vials he carried around out into the wasteland.
Was he really going to help her find her father? He’d known her father, that much had been clear, and her father had known him too. From before the war. What would the Ghoul do when they found him? What would she do?
Pull the trigger? Would she be able to do it this time? The Ghoul would, she was sure of it. Did she care? Her father certainly deserved it after everything.
“Let’s go, Vaultie. I haven’t got all day.”
The words jolted her out of her thoughts, and Lucy looked up, squinted against the sun, only to find the unmistakable figure of the Ghoul staring down at her. His face was hard to read, especially when so much of it was hidden in the shadow of his hat, but he wasn’t actively pointing a gun at her, so she just nodded, forcing herself to her feet and jumping a little when a furry head nudged its way under her hand.
“You too, Dogmeat. We’re burning daylight.” And with that exchange, which ranked among the most civil they’d ever had, she followed him.
Lucy tried to take stock as she walked. Unlike the Ghoul, she didn’t have much ammunition left for the single gun she carried. Her canteen was nearly out of clean water. Nearly all the supplies she’d left her vault with were gone. The supplies offered her by Vault 4 were still there, the offer rescinded when Maximus had attempted to ‘save’ her. She didn’t dare bring any of that up, though. Not yet. Back at her vault, Lucy had been good at reading people. She’d spent her whole childhood learning how to effectively and politely communicate with the people in her community. To problem solve. To mediate. But none of her methods had worked on the Ghoul thus far.
Then again, he had invited her to come with him. She wasn’t traveling with him as a captive this time. And he had the answers she needed…she just had to figure out the right way to ask for them. She tried to go over everything she’d heard him say to her father. So much of the night before felt like a blur that it was hard to put the pieces together, but as she walked, she did her best. He’d called him ‘Young Henry’ even though her father always went by Hank. And…the line he’d said...the one she was pretty sure was from the Cooper Howard movie her dad had loved…had the two of them watched that movie together? Maybe they’d been friends? Her father and the Ghoul had both been around since before the war. It was almost impossible to wrap her head around, no matter how hard she tried.
And he’d asked about his family. The Ghoul had a family. That was almost harder to imagine than him being alive before the war or having friends, but she guessed that he must have been a normal man once, right? Not that she was going to ask. Not yet. Lucy had a feeling that the man she knew only as ‘the Ghoul’ wasn’t going to have a heart to heart about his missing family with her anytime soon. No, first she would focus on trying to have a civil conversation with him...not that he had the air of someone who wanted to have a civil conversation. Still. She would have to figure it out eventually. Maybe she was reading him wrong and he did want to talk to her? Surely he hadn't asked her to come along so they could travel in absolute silence the whole time.
Or maybe he had. Who was she kidding? She had no idea what he wanted from her.
As they walked, Lucy kept her mind busy by trying to figure out the best question to ask first, hand absently scratching behind Dogmeat’s ears when she demanded attention. She had so many questions…how was she supposed to pick just one to start? How was she supposed to ask the man whose last real interaction with her had been selling her to organ harvesters to explain all of this? She didn’t even know what to call him! The woman in Filly had called him “Ghoul” but as far as she could tell, that was a descriptor, not a title. There were other ghouls, like the ones in the cages at the Super Duper Mart…like the Ghoul’s friend that he’d shot in the head. First, they were normal, and then, one day, it seemed like they forgot who they were. And then…then they were monsters.
He took the vials so he wouldn’t become a monster.
Well…a feral monster. She still thought he could be kind of a monster. But she’d saved his life. Did that mean anything to him? Was that why he’d extended this invitation? He'd said that the Brotherhood would kill everyone, including her? Had he been trying to help?
“Sir?” It wasn’t a perfect solution…she still needed to figure out what to call him. But for now, she was treading lightly. If he turned on her, which was a very real possibility, then she would have to defend herself…she would have to be ready. He was fast and he was strong, but she’d always been a good shot. At least…when it came to target practice. Then again, none of the targets had been people moving towards her with guns. But until he gave her a reason, she was determined to at least be polite.
The Ghoul grunted, which she took for an answer, but didn’t slow down, and she didn’t speed up, preferring to keep her distance just in case until she saw how this conversation was going to go.
“How…how do you know my father? You said he used to pick up your wife’s dry cleaning? What does that mean?”
Dogmeat barked, startling her and taking off into a cluster of bushes, but the Ghoul barely seemed to notice...just kept walking. He was quiet, and for a moment, she thought he might just ignore her. There was a crunch from the bushes, and a horrible skittering nose, and then Dogmeat was trotting happily back over to them, something disgusting-looking in her mouth as she chewed. Lucy flinched, averting her eyes, even though her own stomach was growling loudly enough that she wondered how long it would be before she too was eating giant mutant insects.
“He did. Your daddy was my wife’s assistant back in the day.”
There was a sardonic edge to his words, an almost smile in his voice. His voice reminded her of someone…something about the accent.
“I don’t know what that is,” she admitted, going for the direct approach. She had no idea which details were important so she’d try to get as many as she could. He did look at her then, a glance thrown over his shoulder, brow lifting. “Dry cleaning,” she clarified, and he huffed, shaking his head and turning back around. Pulling her canteen out and taking a sip of her dwindling clean water, she wondered if he’d make her drink from another dirty puddle if she ran out.
“Don’t matter. The point is, he worked for her.”
“Before the war?””
“That’s right. Your daddy worked for my wife, and my wife worked for Vault Tec.”
Vault Tec. Just the name made her smile instinctively, chest filling with warmth and a feeling of safety, before reality caught up to her once more. Vault Tec was…it was bad! Vault Tec had allowed those scientists to run Vault 4…to run experiments on those poor people! Her dad had been part of Vault Tec! He’d been fine with letting so many people die! What else were they responsible for?
What was the experiment in her vault?
“Do…do you think they kept her…alive? Like…like they kept my father alive?”
“That’s what I intend to find out.”
“If she worked for Vault Tec…do…do you think she knew what they were doing? In the vaults?” Against her better judgment, she took a couple of quick steps to catch up to him. It would be easier to talk that way, she justified. He didn’t show any sign that the closer proximity bothered him, so she tried not to worry. “Because…we…Maximus and I, we found a vault. Another vault. Vault 4. And they…originally they were run by scientists. But the scientists were doing these…horrible experiments.” Her voice cracked a little when she remembered what she’d seen. “They…they were breeding…mutants. With humans. And killing them! Do you remember the…the thing? In the water?” The ‘...that you used me as bait to try to catch and almost drowned me’ went unsaid. “The gulper?”
He grunted out what she assumed was a ‘yes’.
“They did that! I saw a tape of a woman and she was in a tank filled with water…she gave birth to these…creatures and they…they ate her,” she whispered, voice dying in her throat as the image of it came back to her…the sound of the woman’s screams and the blood in the water. “Did the people who worked for Vault Tec…did they know? When they first made the vaults?”
He was quiet again, but when she looked at him, he had a strange look on his face. Like he was remembering something. “They knew. They all knew. It was the plan just about from the start.”
“At Vault 4, they killed all the scientists and…and one of the people who lives there, she said that there were experiments at all the vaults. She asked what the experiment at Vault 33 was.” She hesitated when he was quiet. “I don’t know what the experiment was.”
His eyes darted over to her, just for a second, and he grunted, more like he was showing he was listening than answering her.
“Did you work for Vault Tec too?”
“Fuck no,” he bit out, like he was offended she’d asked. Her eyes darted to his gun but his hands stayed at his sides.
A thousand more questions came to mind. What had he done then? Who had he been before the war. But those were too personal, so she went with, “did you know about the experiments?”
Slowly, he nodded. “I knew some of it. Tried to stop it. Didn’t try hard enough, apparently.”
A moment of silence. Then, “Did my father know too?” Her voice sounded cold and hard in her own ears as she remembered Shady Sands.
“Yeah. Your daddy knew all of it. Helped plan some of it, probably.”
Of course he had. Of course he’d known.
“He killed my mother,” she whispered, not sure why she was telling him of all people. Maybe because there was no one else to tell. “She found out that there were people who were still alive. She went to the surface and she took me and my brother with her, and he came after her. And when she wouldn’t go with him, he…he destroyed the whole city. He bombed Shady Sands.”
The Ghoul nodded, not seeming surprised. “Yeah. That sounds like something Vault Tec would do, alright.”
“What are you going to do to him? When you find him?”
Here, he stopped, turning to look at her straight on, speaking slowly and clearly, the smooth accent belying his words. “Well, darlin’, I’m going to make him tell me where my family is. And then I’m going to put a bullet between his eyes. And I’d suggest you not get in my way while I’m doing so.”
Lucy swallowed hard, strangely unafraid. For some reason, she was almost glad to hear it. Even if she couldn’t make herself pull the trigger, he could. “I won’t.” Maybe as long as she didn't give him a reason, he wouldn't shoot her too.
He looked in her eyes for what felt like a long time, finally nodding to himself. “Well alright then.”
And then they were walking again, him pulling out his inhaler and taking a puff.
“The ghoul…the one at the table?” she offered into the silence a few minutes later, and he sighed like he’d been hoping for more silence. “That was my mother.”
That did earn her a full on look, and the place where his eyebrows should have been lifted once again.
“Huh.” Nodding a little to himself, he adjusted his had so it sat further back on his head. “Well, at least I know you’re a decent shot.”
“I shot you, didn’t I?” she grumbled a little, forgetting for just a second who she was talking to, then flinched when she processed the words that had just come out of her mouth. Instead of biting her head off though…or one of her fingers, he just huffed, shaking his head to himself.
“Yeah. Try that again and I’ll take more than your finger.”
That, she absolutely believed.
Back at the vault, there had been all kinds of people, even people she didn’t necessarily get along with all the time, but there hadn’t been a single person like him. No one threatened another person so openly in the vault. No one resorted to violence so quickly…or at all, as far as she had seen. Disputes were solved with words. Diffusing physical disputes was practiced through role play in school since they so rarely happened. Everyone had learned from a young age that the survival of their community depended on kindness and a willingness to compromise and share resources. Never had she worried about talking to someone like she worried about talking to him. Never had she kept her mouth shut, choosing her words carefully, because she worried speaking might end with her hurt. Never had self preservation meant keeping her thoughts to herself. She’d never been very good at keeping her thoughts to herself. And she’d always had someone to talk to! Her dad or Steph or Norman…even Chet! They’d all been there for her whenever she’d needed them, and she’d done the same for them. Now though, she kept quiet, the only sound the Ghoul’s jingling spurs and her own breathing, and the occasional noise from Dogmeat.
But walking in silence gave her plenty of time to think, and she had plenty to think about. Her mother’s hand on her face in the sun, one of her only memories of her. Her brother’s teasing and how he’d annoy her when they were younger until she’d felt like she was going to scream…and how he’d come to her when he needed someone to talk to, all sheepish and hopeful. Steph and the husband she’d just lost to raiders, and the baby that was due any time now. The look on Chet’s face when he’d opened the door to Vault 32 so that her new husband could come through. And, of course, her father. Her father pushing her behind a door to keep her safe on the night of her wedding.
“You are my world.”
Her father in a cage, hands on the bars, listening to Moldaver tell her the truth that had been hidden from her for her entire life.
“ If the problem with the world is factions, endless fighting, endlessly at war, then what is the solution? To get rid of the factions. To make the world us. Only ours to shape.”
He’d done it on purpose. That was the part that was so hard to fully wrap her head around. He’d destroyed a whole city of people on purpose. It just didn’t make sense, not when she thought back to nights spent playing games at the kitchen table or at family book club or watching old westerns on the sofa, using the stationary floor bikes for exercise. How could that man, the one who’d gone on and on about Cooper Howard and cowboys and who had read her bedtime stories and tucked her into bed at night be the same man that had destroyed a whole city to punish his wife?
The words came back in full force as, later in the afternoon, the Ghoul led her through an alley made up of stacks of crushed cars piled up on either side. Like in Filly, there were people with carts and stalls lining the way to the settlement, holding out pieces of meat and makeshift weapons and vials they claimed contained various tonics and drugs and medicines, shouting their prices. These were the people her dad had been talking about. These desperate, irradiated people left behind by Vault Tec. Hell, the Ghoul! He was one too! Vault Tec had left all of them to die!
Her dad hadn’t cared. As soon as her mom had refused to come back with him, he’d killed her.
And as soon as Lucy had refused to go back with him, he'd left her with an armed bounty hunter...a Ghoul that had just shot him. Had he known that the Ghoul wouldn’t kill her? Had he cared? Was she no longer her daughter because she hadn’t obeyed him like her mother had apparently stopped being her mother when she'd disagreed with him?
The idea was a knife in her chest, even as she told herself that it didn’t matter…that he was no longer her father. That maybe she’d never even had a father. That was better than having a father who would do such horrible things.
“Look alive Vaultie,” the Ghoul ordered, the words thrown over his shoulder right as she was about to bump into a man carrying what looked like a giant hatchet. The man gave her a nasty look, looking her up and down, and she murmured an apology and jogged a little to catch up to the Ghoul.
“What are we doing here? Is this where my father is?”
“If only it were so easy. No, if my hunch is correct, young Henry is going a little farther than this. But we’re going to need supplies if we’re going to cross the wasteland.”
“Oh. Right.” She nodded. That made sense. He’d been around for more than 200 years. The thought was almost comforting. He would know how to survive out in the wasteland, so she would watch him and she would learn and…
And then, when she got all of her answers…what then? Would she go back to her vault? She had to, right? Her brother was there! Her best friend too! Had Stephanie had her baby? Was there a new Overseer? Did the new Overseer know about Vault Tec? And what about Max? How would she ever find him again? Apparently the Brotherhood of Steel was ‘complicated.’ What did that mean? Would the Ghoul know? She didn’t want to ask just yet…he was walking like he was in a hurry, and she trotted after him, Dogmeat keeping close.
The settlement was smaller than Filly, but there were still plenty of shops with doors propped open to let what little breeze there was in. A couple of women sat out on the porch of one shop, a toddler playing in the dirt at their feet, and a boy who looked to be about her brother’s age stood nearby, glancing back at them every so often as he worked on what looked to be a pistol, screwing something into place. At another storefront, a man advertised haircuts right on the porch, and the shop next door had a sign out front that read “Dentist” and underneath, in a smaller font, “We buy teeth.”
She’d been too focused on finding Moldaver to look around much when they’d been in Filly, but now, as she followed the Ghoul through the crowds of people, she allowed herself a moment to try and take it all in. There hadn’t been stores in the vault, or currency really. There had just been enough for everyone to have an equal share…to each according to their merit. No one sold anything. No one carried money. But the currency of this world was caps, and Lucy didn’t have any. She had a gun and a canteen that was only half full, and even she, who had only been on the surface for less than a month, knew that wasn’t enough. She would need more water. More bullets. Maybe a knife? The Ghoul carried enough that surely he could spare one…then again, he’d once poured his own water onto the dirt rather than share with her, so she guessed she couldn’t count on it.
He wasn’t her friend. He was just a man walking in the same direction as her. She had to remember that.
The Ghoul strode several feet ahead of her, turning and walking into a shop seemingly at random. The sign had a drawing of a gun hanging over the window…a good drawing, like someone had worked on it for hours, getting the shading just right. Lucy admired it for a moment, just managing to catch the door before he let it close in her face. The space was small, almost cozy, and the back wall was covered in guns of varying sizes and shapes, some of which Lucy couldn’t even begin to identify despite her time in the riflery club. The woman standing behind the counter was young with her hair shaved close to her head, and when she looked up at them, her neutral expression melted into a scowl. It took a second for Lucy to understand why she might be angry at them just for walking into her store.
“What the hell you want, Ghoul?” she snapped, hand shooting to her hip where a revolver sat in its holster.
“Now don’t go getting your panties in a twist, sweetheart. Just here to trade,” he told her, not seeming all that concerned with her tone.
“And why would I trade with the likes of you?”
That immediately rubbed Lucy the wrong way. Sure, he was a Ghoul, and Lucy knew that he was mean and willing to sell innocent people for their organs to keep himself alive, but this person didn’t know that! “Why wouldn't you?” she asked, stepping around the Ghoul. “If he’s got money…I mean, caps, then why wouldn’t you sell to him?”
The woman raised her eyebrows.
“Is it because he’s a Ghoul? Because that’s wrong!” Lucy wasn’t stupid. She knew that people were afraid of him, and that maybe they should be, but he still had to be able to buy things! Like his medicine! And everyone needed to be able to defend themselves. If he wasn’t hurting anyone, how could they justify refusing to serve him when all he’d done was walk into the store?
Now the woman gave her a disgusted look, lips curling. “Oh shit. Are you one of those?”
She cocked her head, about to ask what that meant, when a hand caught her by the back of her vault suit and pulled her out of the way. The movement was surprisingly not as rough as it could have been, and she blinked at the Ghoul as he stepped around her. “Just pretend she ain’t here. Now,” he said, pulling something out of the strange bag he carried on his shoulder. The caps inside jingled. “You want to make a trade or not?”
Reluctantly, she did.
The Ghoul didn’t say anything to her as they left the store, him with more ammunition and her with nothing, but she couldn’t help herself. “It isn’t right.”
He sighed, not slowing down. “You still on about your golden rule, Vaultie?”
“I’m just saying. It’s not right to discriminate against people because of their…” here she hesitated, worried she might be crossing a line. It would be rude to comment on his appearance, so went with something more general. “Because of anything,” she finished lamely.
“Well, you are welcome to go back and take it up with her, but I doubt you’ll have any more luck this time and besides, I ain’t waiting around for you. We’ve got places to be.” He stopped in his tracks and turned, and she had to stop short to keep from running into him. He was staring down at her, considering, looking more irritated than anything as he reached into the bag on his shoulder and held out a fist. Dumbly, she let him grab her arm, opening her hand, then watching with open shock as he dropped a handful of caps into her open palm.
“We’re gonna be walking for at least two days before we run into another settlement like this. Keep that in mind while you’re spending my caps, would you darlin’?” he asked, voice dripping with sarcasm, but she just closed her fist around the caps. He was giving her money? For nothing? This was the same man that hadn’t even given her a sip of water when she’d been dying of dehydration! Was it because of what she’d done? Because of the vials she’d dropped beside him when she could have killed him? Had the golden rule actually worked on him?
She didn’t dare ask…not when he could so easily change his mind. Instead, she beamed at him, bringing a hand up to touch the one that still held her arm. “Thank you.”
The Ghoul went still for a second before rolling his eyes and pulling away. “You’ve got an hour before I leave your ass here, Vaultie. Meet me by the entrance and make it quick.”
“Yes sir!’ She felt stupid as soon as she’d said it, almost wishing she’d saluted him like it was a joke, but he just shook his head and took off in the opposite direction.
Lucy spent the caps as carefully as she could, going from shop to shop for everything she could think of…and afford. She needed a pack to put her things in, and a second, larger canteen. She had to pay to use the water pump too, filling the canteens to the very top and then running some water into her open mouth, drinking her fill while she could. The rest she spent on a hunting knife and some bullets, since she didn’t have enough caps for even the most basic first aid kit. She’d just have to hope that she didn't get injured anytime soon.
The pack wasn’t nearly as good as the one she’d left her vault with, and she wished for the thousandth time that the gulper hadn’t eaten it. She never could have known how valuable something as simple as a sleeping bag would be. Or just a blanket. How difficult it would be to find things she’d taken for granted her whole life, like clean water or a safe place to sit down and rest. People who wouldn’t kill her just to take what little she had…or eat her. A bed. A shower. Running water. She remembered how Monty had turned her tap on…how he’d stared at the running water the night of their wedding like he’d never seen anything like it. Looking back, she realized he probably hadn’t.
The Ghoul was exactly where he’d said he’d be a little less than an hour later, Dogmeat at his side, and she jogged up to them, careful not to bump into anyone. Everyone gave the Ghoul a wide berth, some eyeing her strangely as she came to a stop in front of him, but she paid them no mind. Surely they’d see that the two of them were traveling together, and maybe that would make them reconsider their prejudices.
“Hm. Guess you decided not to take the money and run.”
She furrowed her brow. “What? Of course not. I wouldn’t do that.”
He huffed out what could almost be considered a laugh. “No….I don’t suppose you would, Lucy MacLean.” And with that, he turned around and started walking again.