Chapter Text
The night air was hot, not a cloud in sight. Not that he noticed that the stars shined brighter tonight. All was quiet, too; the only sound was the crisp crunch of sticks and leaves beneath him. He was dehydrated to hell, but he knew there was a water source nearby that wouldn't take long to purify. The Raider spent nearly an hour gathering enough water, too tired to feel the frustration of his shabby motor skills. He splashed his face with the cool water and sniffed.
It'd been almost a week since he fled his old home, a well-developed raider refuge, now nearly leveled by a lone gatorclaw that got too close to their base. His injuries were healing fine, thanks to the gobs of stimpacks and jet he nabbed from a traveling merchant. Medics were few and far in between, especially ones who offered their services to psychos such as himself, so highway robbery was his only choice.
The woods paralleled a large meadow, so he figured he would take that route. Long grass brushed against his thighs while his jugs of water clinked together. Bugs hummed and buzzed by, making his head vibrate. A new sound manifested: a female voice. A figure in his blurry view, far ahead. There was a soft baby blue radiance around it, like a flashlight of some sorts, the Raider licked his dry lips. He was in no condition to engage in combat, not that he wasn't hard-headed enough to try. The light paused, and so did he.
In the center of the saxe luminescence stood a small figure. He could tell she was distracted by something above, he followed her line of sight but only saw the full night sky. He got closer, and closer, until he could recognize yellow bold numbers on the figure's back. The Raider scoffed, “Vaulties.” He reached for his knife.
She had to be fresh out of the vault, he could hear her babble into her device documenting her journey. He crouched down into the long, wet grass, and weighed his options. He could shake her down for food and resources now, or wait until she met up with the rest of her group. Nah, the former idea was more than sustainable. And he always wanted his own Pipboy.
He hid behind a thick moss-covered tree for cover, dropped his jugs of dirty water, and peaked at his new target. The Vault Dweller continued her babbling, her voice was silk smooth, he leaned in to hear her better. She talked about this, that and the other mundane thing. Her misfortune with finding supplies and how she wished she could meet more (sane) people on her first adventure outside. Sweat dripped down his forehead when she mentioned being lonely, and there was a tight feeling in his chest. His knife slipped in his hand and his jaw tightened.
The Raider got a better view of the woman, her hair was in a high bun, the texture was tight coils. She still had jewelry on her neck and ears, a rookie mistake, but he can't help but to appreciate how pretty her necklace looked against her dark skin. He took his time and soaked in her facial features, the way her nose wrinkled a bit when she spoke, and how she pursed her lips when she paused to find something else to say. This was his chance, one heavy boot followed the other as he charged, yet his body couldn't be in the worst condition. He aimed to grab for her neck, unfortunately he found himself face down in the mud inches behind her.
It was still dark when he woke up, he weakly fumbled to find his knife, his gear, anything. His first thought is he got mugged by that Vault Dweller, but his eyes adjusted, and he realized he wasn't in that grassy meadow anymore. He had been moved to a tiny living room on a futon couch. The windows were boarded up, but he could see tiny god rays spilling out small cracks. His eyes floated around the room. The front door was barred too, his bag and boots were thrown next to a big dirty blue chair.
“How the fuck did I get in here…” The Raider propped himself up. His stomach churned immediately, but he had a feeling he didn't have much left in him. Small footsteps could be heard in the closed kitchen.
His bare feet touched the dusty floor. Before he could stand at his full height; to follow the sounds of the footsteps, the Vault Dweller from the night before popped out of the kitchen with a small plate of food and a canteen. She looked just as surprised at him for a half a second, eyes darted between The Raider and his gear. Relieved that the pile remained untouched, her mouth twisted into a wide smile.
“Oh, you're awake!” The Vault Dweller handed him the plate of what looks like eggs, he stared at the plate, and then at her.
“It's not my best dish, cooking was my least adored subject… but I figured you haven't had a nice meal in a minute based on how light you were.” Her hand reached for his face, and grazed his forehead.
“Who the fuck are you?” His reflexes betrayed him at that moment, and he didn't even flinch, but she did. Her hand quickly moved from his sweaty forehead to her full lap. His voice was hoarse, and that canteen of water was just as appealing as the woman in front of him.
“R-right! I'm Loni. Loni Clements. I've been on the surface for about 120 hours now. I saw you collapse last night and reckon it was my duty to help you! So I decided to bring you to my temporary home to nurse you back to health. You're really lucky, sugar. I thought you were one of those ghoul monsters when I first saw you….”
Loni grew low when she mentioned the ghouls.
“You brought me here, all by yourself?” His eyebrows knitted together as she nodded eagerly and smiled even wider at him. Loni was right, he had been neglecting his body, even before the gatorclaw massacre, replacing food with drugs wasn't helping him bulk up. The fact he lost enough weight for a tiny vault dweller woman to drag him around was embarrassing. He snatched the plate of food from her hands.
“ 'm TNT.” He began to chew while still glaring at Loni, the rude action on his part didn't offend her the slightest.
“Interesting name, do you land dwellers not have surnames anymore?” Loni leaned in closer, curiosity taking over any fear she previously had.
TNT couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes, “Course we do, but no one gives a fuck about that kinda shit in these parts. If you go to a city, you'll hear a bunch of dumbass last names.”
Loni let out an ‘aaah’ a bit defeated by his answer.
“You boarded up this place yourself?” TNT pointed the fork at the windows.
“No, it was like this when I got here, the back door wasn't boarded up. Used my last bobby pin to get in here, but it was worth it.” She didn't mind the staring. “And we're on a pretty big hill, I don't think anyone is going to bother us.”
A small piece of him wanted to berate her for trusting someone like him in this cozy space she found. Mentally and physically, he couldn't, he already grew weary eating a meal. Maybe she didn't know, but 5 days was more than enough time to get mugged, beaten, or worse in these parts. Perhaps it did happen already and Loni was testing faith by bringing him in, in the typical idiotic vault dweller fashion. The thought of another raider getting their hands on her made his stomach turn. TNT hated it. But why?
The empty plate was handed to her with little emotion, just a small ‘thanks’ as he laid back down with a slight pout. Loni sang a sweet ‘You’re Welcome’ and disappeared back into the kitchen, leaving TNT alone again.
All his weapons were about six feet away from him in his bag, if she didn't have the common sense to hide them. Yet he didn't have enough energy to walk across the living room, let alone swing at somebody. Loni had stripped him of his armor while he was out cold, robbing him of that thrill of seeing her fumble with the clasps and pointy bits. His mind wondered at that moment, fever elevating his unwashed thoughts. Loni would have had to climb on top of him, after shoving him onto the small futon. TNT checked his pockets, his jet was missing, his belt was missing, too. She would have most likely still been out of breath and sweating while pawing at his pants…
“Holy, fucking shit….” He slurred out loud, clutching the bridge of his nose. “This fever was ruining my life.”