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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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Turn Wounds into Wisdom 12a/?
(Anonymous) 2014-10-06 10:28 am (UTC)(link)She was free.
Vincent had found her, and she was free.
She had been beaten, tortured, abused, raped and humiliated, but Vincent had saved her, and Tiberius would never lay his hands on her again. Relieve and the sudden absence of the strain she had been under felt like a knife through her soul and she had no means to stop the tears forcing their way out.
Dimly she could hear Vincent beside her move, and when he put an arm around her, she fell against his chest and wept. She couldn’t remember ever having cried so much, and she could hear herself mutter apologies and self-accusations between her sobs until at one point, Vincent told her to stop.
“There is no use in shaming yourself”, he told her in a low voice. “And there is no benefit for you in digging the pit you are sitting in even deeper.” He paused, and then took one of her hands in his. “I am not saying you should get on with your life as if nothing happened. But right now, you need to focus on survival. We have a difficult journey ahead of us. But once we have reached safety, then will be the time to put things right, and to learn how to deal with the consequences of those things that can’t be made right anymore.”
Tara took a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself. “Sorry”, she mumbled. “I... I just wanted to die”, she then added in a hoarse whisper.
“Doubtlessly”, Vincent gave back in a surprisingly gentle voice and ran his thumb over the back of her hand. “In trying times, death often seems the easiest way out. But when that is denied to us, we have to find a way to go on.”
Tara fell silent and listened to his heartbeat. Vincent was no stranger to pain, humiliation and torture, but the strength with which he bore his scars, both on body and soul, still impressed her.
“Vincent”, she whispered after a moment’s thought.
“Yes?”
“How do you do it? I mean... I know what you have been through.... how did you manage to...to go on?”
Vincent was silent for a while before answering. He remembered the training as he grew up, the flogging, Hoover Dam and what came after, and the way back home from Shady Sands. “I am not sure myself”, he then said. “But I guess there is a part of me that simply wants to survive, no matter what. And that will to survive has carried me through.”
“I am not as strong as you are”, Tara whispered hoarsely after a long silence.
“Maybe not.” Vincent’s voice was low. “But you are strong enough. And maybe it is not about strength but the will to survive.”
“I am not sure I want to, remembering the last days”, Tara rasped, fresh tears welling up in her eyes. “Will it even be worth it?”
“That is not for me to say. Only you can decide that. And for that, you need to focus on what lies ahead, on what there is yet left to do, rather than on what lies behind.”
Tara fell silent again and closed her eyes. Vincent was still holding her hand and his hand felt like an anchor to which she could hold on.
Sleep claimed her again shortly after, but she was too exhausted to dream.
x-x-x-x-x-x
Vincent woke her up again at dusk, and after they had shared a small portion of their meagre provisions, some jerky and some water, they set off again westwards, towards Laughlin and the Colorado River.
They walked silently, following the cracked tarmac band west that was covered in the ever shifting sands for large parts, but whenever they could, they used it to make more speed.
But Tara’s strength didn’t last long; it was not even midnight when the pains in her abdomen had worn her out. Vincent looked at her and with a deep frown on his face noticed the blood running down her thighs.
He dug into a pocket.
Turn Wounds into Wisdom 12b/?
(Anonymous) 2014-10-06 10:29 am (UTC)(link)Tara looked at the drug for a moment, then she took a deep breath, exhaled, and took the shot of Jet as fast as she could.
“There’s going to be one hell of a price to pay”, she said as they set off again, at a much greater speed thanks to the drugs. Vincent knew that as well, but the drugs enabled her to keep going so they reached the chain of mountains with the first grey streaks of dawn at their backs without encountering any creatures. If Vincent had had a deity to believe in he would have thanked them a hundred times for the fact that deathclaws were only active during daytime.
They found themselves a small cave, the entrance so narrow they could hardly squeeze through, but it would keep them safe enough for some much needed rest, and by now, Tara could feel both drugs begin to wear off. But her exhaustion was even greater than her pain by now, and she fell asleep the moment her head touched the ground.
Vincent remained awake for some time, however, and watched her sleep.
He knew perfectly well what had happened to her, and it almost physically hurt him to even think about it, but no amount of regret or self-reprobation could undo what had happened. He also had seen the defeat and emptiness in her eyes upon having found her, and he was sure she hadn’t come with him out of a desire to go home, but to get away from Tiberius. It would be hard to motivate her to keep going, and this was made even harder by the fact that she quite obviously had suffered internal damage from what Tiberius had done to her.
Tiberius.
The name alone now, thinking of the man who he had only known as a spoiled, misbehaved boy and what he had done to his queen, made Vincent’s blood boil with rage. He took a deep breath and looked down at Tara curled up beside him.
“He shall die”, he whispered softly, as not to wake her. “I swear he shall die. No one does these things to you and live. I shall kill him, and if I have to crawl all the way to Flagstaff to get him once I’ve brought you to safety.”
Then he closed his eyes and listened to the wind outside, grateful for its presence as it would be covering the last trace of their tracks.
x-x-x-x-x-x
When Vincent opened his eyes again he found Tara already awake, sitting at the mouth of the cave and staring down into Golden Valley. The sun was already low in the sky and the entrance of their tiny hideout was already hidden in the shadows.
When she heard Vincent move she spoke, but without turning her head to look at him.
“I know I shouldn’t be looking back”, she said slowly. “But I am kind of afraid to look ahead. I simply don’t know how to cope with all this, and looking back at least means I’m looking at things that lie behind me.”
Vincent wasn’t sure what to reply; wasn’t sure, even, if he was meant to reply at all, so he remained silent and continued to listen. After a small pause, Tara went on.
“Does it ever go away? This... this... abysmal tear though your soul? Will it ever fade?”
“Go away, it won’t”, Vincent replied in a low voice. “But fade, it will. You learn to live with it.”
Tara slung her arms around her legs. After another long pause she continued, her voice only a whisper. “I didn’t know it was possible to hate that much.”
Vincent thought back to the day his memories had returned; often he had asked himself what had had more weight in making his decision to head for Shady Sands back then: his concern for Tara’s safety or his burning desire for revenge. “I understand”, he said hesitatingly. “But hate... as justified as it may be, will cloud your mind and in the end, consume you.”
“You killed them”, Tara whispered, and Vincent didn’t need to ask about whom she was talking.
“I did”, he replied. “But it didn’t give me the satisfaction I had hoped for. And in hindsight I have to say I took much greater risks than it was worth in the end. That is what I meant about hate clouding your mind. If I hadn’t been so consumed with my desire for revenge, maybe I had chosen differently and not risked everything I had.”
Turn Wounds into Wisdom 12c/?
(Anonymous) 2014-10-06 10:30 am (UTC)(link)“No. I am telling you not to let your hate consume and blind you.”
Tara took a deep breath. “I got the feeling that my hate is the only thing keeping me going right now, just to be able to kill him some day.”
“Then let it”, Vincent said simply. “Right here and now, if it is all that keeps you going, let it. But once we are safe, you need to focus on other things.” His voice trailed off, he wasn’t sure if what he said was really helpful, and even less how this could be achieved for her. But he had founded hopes that the Followers would be able to help her deal with her trauma, and he also knew she had the strength to pick herself up again and go on. Not at once, maybe, but at some point in the near future.
After another long silence he suggested they should set out again, and following the last rays of the setting sun they continued their way over the ridge of rocky hills that separated them from the Colorado River.
They crossed the river at Laughlin, a ghost town of windswept, empty ruins of houses that no one ever had attempted to rebuild since the Great War. The Bridge was as ancient and rotting as the houses, held together only by cobwebs and wishes, but they made it across the waters despite it. They needed to, as following the Colorado on the eastern shore would mean travelling too close to the deathclaw breeding grounds.
After their crossing they turned northwards, following the river now, and when they made camp again Vincent felt his spirits rise the tiniest bit. They were already almost halfway home and the worst they would have to deal with now were lakelurks; and as long as they kept down to the river’s edge they would not run into any patrolling securitrons.
Vincent knew he would have to cross the Colorado one more time swimming, somewhat south of Hoover Dam, to get to the little stash where he had hidden his other gun, more provisions and his armour. It had been a necessity; he couldn’t have crossed the Dam in Legion attire, and he had needed to make all haste he could, meaning he had to go down the I 93. Yet he hoped that shouldn’t impede them longer than one or two hours.
x-x-x-x-x-x
Re: Turn Wounds into Wisdom 12c/?
(Anonymous) 2014-10-06 05:51 pm (UTC)(link)-Fish!Anon