Fallout Kink Meme Part IV: Closed to prompts, open for fills.

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Stay (4/?)

[(Anonymous)]

Betsy tasted iron, and realized she had bitten into her own tongue. Violet didn’t come over to her though, and instead began dragging the mattress outside of the camp. Betsy didn’t move to track the other woman’s progress, but could hear her mucking about outside the camp. Violet returned, seemingly ignoring Betsy, and went towards her fire. She pulled a burning branch from the fire and once more exited the camp.

Now Betsy rolled over to watch her, and saw she had set up a fire near the mattress, which she had moved just outside of her camp. Coming back, Violet knelt and reached out towards Betsy, who recoiled, and then inexplicably felt shame at herself. Violet withdrew, looked back at the fire once, and then left Betsy, climbing back up to the second story of her shack.

Betsy remained on the ground for a bit, taking deep slow breathes. Her head still hurt. But it was all right. She crawled over to the mattress, now in the circle of warmth provided by the fire. It was a little past midnight. She just needed to get to morning. She knew that the sun’s presence wouldn’t actually make anything better. But she just needed to set some sort of goal. It would be fine in the morning.

She tensed, seeing Violet climb down from her shack again, holding something in her arms. It seemed like it took the other woman a long while to reach her. Betsy looked up at her, recognizing the thing in Violet’s arm as a blanket, filthy as everything else in the camp. Violet draped the blanket over the prone soldier, and then left. For as long as it had taken Violet to reach the soldier, it seemed to Betsy like she was immediately gone, thankfully back up in her shack.

When the sun came up, Betsy slowly rolled off her pallet and stood up. The pain from her ordeal was really hitting her now. If Violet asked why she was slowly limping out of camp, she could honestly tell her that she couldn’t stay here and needed to get medical help from an NCR camp. Not like Violet would ask why though. If the junkie bitch was upset with her leaving, she’d either shoot her from her tower, or set her dogs on her.

She made it to the chain link fence outside the fort before she heard footsteps behind her. A human’s and at least one dog’s. She’d made it farther then she though she would get, at least. Betsy turned, expecting to face the Fiend’s snarling dogs. She was suddenly so very tired. Instead of turning to face a dog’s slobbering maw, she found Violet just staring at her. Betsy continued to face her, but took a step backwards, to see the Fiend’s reaction. Violet advanced a step.

“No. No you stay. Stay.” Violet talked to Betsy like she would one of her dogs. Betsy wondered if that was just how she talked to everything. Slowly, she took another step back. Violet followed.

At first she thought the growling was the dog. But it was Violet, surprisingly convincing. Of course.

“I can’t stay. I need to go.” The throbbing from her broken ribs was reaching her head now, making everything blur. Colors were too bright, and it was starting to hurt to look at anything. But she kept her eyes trained on the blinding white of Violet’s teeth, now bared in a wolfish snarl.

If she were anywhere else, it would probably be safer to stay and let her bones knit before she set out across the Mojave. But she didn’t want to risk Violet’s disinterest turning into violence. Although, judging by her behavior last night, disinterest wasn’t the correct term.

Betsy risked it, and closed her eyes, holding her head. She could hear the dog snuffling in the dirt. Her own breathing was threatening to become erratic, and she had to fight both to keep from passing out and to keep her breathing steady. She just wanted to get back to camp, replace her beret and sniper rifle, and lay down for a good long while. Her shoulders were heaving now. Violet’s continued animalistic sounds weren’t helping. She was continuing to growl, but the sound was now less threatening, more high pitched and whining. Betsy braved the pain of sunlight and opened her eyes.

Violet’s teeth were still bared, but now she was crying a bit as well, her face an ugly contortion of teeth and anger and sorrow. Shit.