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falloutkinkmeme_backup) wrote2018-10-20 09:59 pm
falloutkinkmeme_backup) wrote2018-10-20 09:59 pm
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Fallout Kink Meme Part IV: Closed to prompts, open for fills.
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Moon Rise - Ch 2a/8
(Anonymous) 2013-02-09 03:50 am (UTC)(link)Catherine reached out to him, her long, dextrous fingers running against his cheek like a warm breeze on a cool, autumn afternoon. Once upon a time they had joked that she could have been a pianist with those fingers, if she had only had the reflexes. Instead he kept his cheeky remarks to himself, enjoying the simple touch and the feeling that came with it. She had become his sanctuary... his refuge from a world of pain and torment.
"Don't be afraid," she insisted, only to be torn from his arms by the sound of gunfire.
----
James forced the images of what had happened to Jonas back in the Vault from his mind in order to focus on what was happening around him. He had asked the old woman, Grandma Sparkle, to let him rest in her back room for a few hours. It had been a long run from Megaton toward the city... toward the possible information Three Dog had for him. His eyes narrowed as he realized the sound of gunfire was present, not a memory of what the Overseer had done.
He sat up and reached for the .32 he had stashed in his jumpsuit pocket, moving toward the window. He spotted the old woman, her rifle drawn, aiming at a group of vicious dogs that prowled toward the wharf. The lead dog was large and black, like a nightmare come to life in a world full of oddities and horrors. However, the woman did her best to hold keep them from charging, moving backward slowly toward the shack.
Some selfish, frightened part of him considered feigning sleep to avoid being drawn into the potentially deadly conflict. However, the spiritual weight tied to him refused to let him act like an innocent or a criminal, forcing him to open the door and beckon to the old woman. "Sparkle, hurry!" he insisted. "I'll cover you!"
She nodded, still moving backward because if she turned they would rush her en masse and rip her apart. He kept his pistol levelled, ready to wound if not kill whichever animal made the first move toward the old woman. He was sweating again, feeling the tension and anxiety about making a mistake... about losing someone's life. She had nearly made it when the unthinkable happened... Her boot caught on the leg of one of her tables and she suddenly went down, a shriek of surprise escaping her.
All at once the trio of animals lunged forward, a surging tide of fur and frenzy, ready to taste meat. Her rifle went off, wasting a round on the sign over the door while he tried to line up a shot on the lead beast. He squeezed the trigger, only to see the monstrous dog dodge to one side, so the bullet grazed its side, slamming into the animal on its flank. James blinked twice, wasting just enough time the animal on the Alpha's left could scamper up and catch the woman's leg.
She tried to kick the beast in the face and only succeeded in making it jerk her to one side as the Alpha came forward. The doctor had no idea how to react, seeing the fearless animal coming at him so quickly... so fearlessly. The black beast stood between him and the horror, its bright, golden eyes locked on his like a man daring him to accept the challenge. As a man of honor, he took the shot, firing at the beast in the hopes of wounding it while the old woman screamed.
He missed. The Alpha bared his teeth and took off, running into the scrub grass with his partner on his heels, leaving the woman to lay there, torn open, agony escaping in equal parts with the blood. The dusty dock refused to absorb it at first, just letting the red slide over the warped and tattered brown boards. The dogs were gone, so James raced to her side, wishing he could save her, but knowing not even a Stimpak could deal with the trauma she had endured. He had only seen one person walk away from a wound like hers, but Cross had been in the care of Rothchild, not him.
Moon Rise - Ch 2b/8
(Anonymous) 2013-02-09 03:51 am (UTC)(link)Immediately he set aside his pistol and took her hand in his, forcing his voice to be calm. "Keep looking at me," he insisted, meeting her frightened eyes with his own. Hers were grey and bright, almost wild, all whites and little in the way of pupil as adrenaline tried to keep her alive despite the blood loss. "It's alright. It's alright. Look. Look at me. Keep looking at me. It's alright. It'll slide over you. It'll start to feel warm. Nice and warm. It'll move over you. It's alright."
Her gaze seemed to center on him at last, her eyes meeting his, still in the haze of trauma and pain, but verging back into humanity.
"Let your thoughts go," he told her. "Hold the good things. Hold the good things, yeah? Who do you love? Who do you love, Sparkle?"
"My boy, Joseph," she murmured, her words little more than a cough filled with blood.
"Is he your son?" he pushed, thinking of his own child, safe in Vault 101.
"Yes," she agreed, her pupils beginning to dilate.
"Let him take it then," he insisted. "Let him take it." A spasm ran through her as the fear began to fade, her gaze starting to drift slightly. "It's okay. It's okay."
She just nodded before that last shuddering breath escaped her. Her neck relaxed, head eyes fully dilated, and she died there in his arms, making his heart ache with sudden agony, reminding him of so many others. Madison had told him he was too sensitive about things like death... That it made him soft... made him willing to throw away so much work over an imbalance of hormones. Maybe it made him soft, but he doubted he could ever be as hard-hearted as she had become.
James looked up from the old woman's body as the dogs howled, hidden somewhere over the crest of the nearest hill. He said a brief prayer over her body before grabbing her rifle, glancing around him for signs of the animals, and preparing to cross the bridge so he could venture underground and into D.C. proper.