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

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

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I felt a bit bad having to leave Boxcars in Nipton. Sure the guy isn't very nice to the player, but he does have a good reason.

So maybe Courier or someone else who happened to stumble into Nipton feels bad for him, and carries him to help?

Don't mind if it's fluff or whatever, just as long as it doesn't involve non-con or dub-con.

Characters: M!Courier, Boxcars, Sunny Smiles and a few other Goodsprings settlers
Tags: I can’t really say...
Summary: The courier, a big and good-natured guy, takes pity on Boxcars in Nipton and gets him to safety. Having narrowly escaped a nasty death, Boxcars realises his life could do with a little improvement.
Title stolen from a movie.
================

Jake had thought the smell of burning corpses and death outside was the worst thing he had ever smelled. Opening the door to what had been the trading post proved him wrong on that, though. The stink of unwashed body, urine and blood almost made him retch.
After the moment his eyes had needed to adjust to the dim light, he spotted the man sitting doubled over on a chair at the far end of the room. He cautiously took a few steps toward him, thinking that maybe he was dead already, when he spotted the mangled, broken legs. At that precise moment, the man on the chair lifted his head and his eyes, burning with pain, thirst and hunger, came to rest on the courier.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”
Jake had no idea what to reply. The powder ganger, on the other hand, went on, talking himself into a rage.
“First I get my legs smashed, and then in walks the powder ganger's grim fucking reaper? What the fuck have you got against us man? Jesus fucking Christ, if you want me dead just gimme 15 Med-X and I'll fucking O.D. for ya, okay? Fuck!”
Crossing his arms very slowly, Jake took a small step back. “Look, pal, it wasn’t me who smashed your legs, okay? And I’ve got nothing against you, apart from the fact that you guys try to kill me whenever you lay eyes on me. It was the people of Goodsprings, okay? They saved my sorry arse when I was about to kick the bucket, and asked me for help. So I helped. I don’t really care about you assholes one way or the other!”
“Yeah, whatever. Are you gonna put me out of my misery or do I have to starve in this stinking shithole?”

Jake stared down at the injured, crippled man and thoughtfully pursed his lips. “I don’t have that much Med-X on me, pal. In fact, I have no meds save two stimpacks. You want me to put a bullet between your eyes, or...?”
The powder ganger narrowed his eyes and his jaw worked for a few silent moments. “Or what?”, he finally asked.
“Or I could try and get you to Goodsprings. Doc Mitchell fixed me up when I had a bullet in my conk. He might be able to fix your legs.”
The powder ganger distrustfully narrowed his eyes. “Why the fuck would you do that?”
“I don’t like killing people.”
“What kind of bullshit is that?”
“Take it or leave it.” Jake took another step back and produced a pack of smokes. Having lit the cigarette, he leaned against the doorframe, then drew his 9mm pistol that he tossed to the wounded powder ganger. Without another word he left the building again, the stench was getting a bit much.

When, after about ten minutes, he still hadn’t heard a shot, he walked past the house opposite behind which a few old cars were rusting away under the merciless Mojave sun. It needed no more than three strong kicks to break a door off a pick-up truck, and dragging that along behind him, Jake made his way back to the shop.

When he opened the door and peeked inside, the powder ganger was still staring at the gun in his hand. Upon noticing the door open he looked up, a hardly identifiable expression on his face.
“You think the doc there would fix me up? Why would he want to do that?”
“If I ask him, he might. He’s one of the good guys, you know.”
“Same as you?”
Jake took a drag of his smoke and shrugged. “That’s what I like to think, at least.”
A few moments of heavy silence hung in the air.
“I thought I didn’t care.” The wounded man looked at the gun in his hands and shrugged. “But I guess all I am is a fucking, stinking coward. I don’t wanna die like this.”
Jake nodded and walked up to the chair, trying to ignore the smell.
“Yeah, I know I stink. I couldn’t...”
“Shut up.” Jake, a broad-shouldered, heavy-boned man of six foot five, took one of the powder ganger’s arms and effortlessly heaved him up across his shoulders, carefully holding on to his hip to avoid touching the mangled legs. Despite his care, the wounded man hissed in pain. “Sorry, pal.”

Once outside, Jake cautiously lowered his load down onto the car door and tied him down with a length of rope from his pack. “This isn’t gonna be pleasant, but I can’t carry you all the way to Goodsprings.”
“I got you.” Despite his dark skin, the powder ganger was already white-faced from the pain of being manhandled like this. “I ain’t gonna complain about someone trying to save my sorry ass.”
Jake wordlessly tied another length of rope to the door and, after slinging this around his shoulder, set off down the road, back towards Goodsprings, dragging the makeshift travois behind him.

They needed frequent breaks as the jostling and bouncing on the rough, cracked tarmac caused the wounded powder ganger simply too much pain. By the time they passed Primm, the man on the travois was drenched in sweat and trembling with exhaustion.
“Not much farther now”, Jake told him, and looking at the wounded man, realised he was close to dying. “Hey.”
The powder ganger managed to open his eyes. They were grey and glassy.
“You got a name, pal?”
“They called me... Boxcars.”
“Huh. And what’s your real name?”
The other man seemed to be near-delirious, for he just blinked a few times as if the question was utterly confusing to him. Jake left it at that for now and picked up the reins of the travois again. The man he wanted to save might not make it, but he’d be damned if he didn’t try.

When Jake finally reached Goodsprings with his load, the man on the travois was unconscious, his breathing shallow and irregular, his face the colour of a week-old corpse. The first person to spot them was Sunny, and she hurried to Jake’s side to help him, concern written all over her. When she noticed the wounded man’s outfit, however, she narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms.
“I don’t believe this. A powder ganger?”
Jake stopped and wiped the sweat from his forehead. “A wounded man, Sunny. He had his legs smashed by the Legion and they left him to croak it in his own blood and filth.”
“But...”
“You think I should’ve killed him.”
Sunny pressed her lips together. “He’s...” She broke off and shook her head. “He would’ve killed you had he had the chance.”
“Probably.” Jake arched his aching back. “But I don’t kill a defenceless, helpless, wounded man.”
Taking a deep breath, Sunny looked at the wounded man again, and swept her eyes over his legs again. “It doesn’t look good.”
“No.” Jake picked up the ropes again. “But I can’t let him die like this.”
A small smile flitted over Sunny’s face. “No. You’re a good man, you know that?”
Jake shrugged. “I guess so. Give me a hand?”

Sunny took another deep breath, then she took one of the ropes and helped Jake drag the travois up the last, steep ascend up to Doc Mitchell’s house. Needless to say, the Doc was rather surprised at seeing Jake with a wounded man knock on his door, but even when being told it was a powder ganger, Mitchell didn’t move a muscle in his face.
“A wounded man is a wounded man”, he said after Jake had lowered Boxcars onto the stretcher in the clinic. “And I’m a doctor. That’s all I’ve got to say.”

It took three weeks for the injured powder ganger to be able to leave the bed for the first time. Jake was there, too, he felt a responsibility for the man whose life he had saved. It was clear that he would never walk again as he used to be able to, the damage to his legs had been severe and he had spent several days in that house before help had reached him. He would walk with a limp for the rest of his life.

“But at least I am still alive”, he said to Jake as they stood on the Doc’s veranda, sharing a smoke. “But... you know, what the fuck am I gonna do now?”
“Good question.” Jake leaned his back against the wall. “There’s powder ganger camps all over the place, though.”
Boxcars was silent for a very long time.
“Assholes left me there to die. None of them moved a fucking finger for me”, he finally said. “Served them right they all were killed.”
“And where does that leave you?”
“Fuck if I know.”

After a few moments of silence, the saw Sunny come down the path, coming from the hills. Her rifle was slung across her back and the zipper of her jacket was undone, and in all, with two golden gecko skins slung across her shoulder, she seemed content with herself and her life.
Jake watched her with mild interest, while Boxcars stared open-mouthed at the woman walking down the path, his face empty and his eyes wide. “Jesus”, he finally whispered. “Who’s the chick? She’s got some of the finest ass I’ve ever seen in my life.”
“That’s Sunny Smiles, and if I was you, I wouldn’t say that again anywhere near her where she can hear it. Otherwise, you’d never have a reason to think about girls in that way ever again.”
Cigarette halfway to his mouth, Boxcars froze and followed Sunny with his eyes. “Yeah...” Then he snapped his mouth shut and stared at his feet before taking another drag. “Guess she’d rather have left me for the coyotes, what with me being a powder ganger.”
“Well.” Jake tapped off his ash. “I guess so.”

Sunny passed them by and Jake gave her a nod that she returned. Boxcars didn’t look up, and she pointedly ignored him. First when she had walked past them completely did Boxcars look up again.
After a few more steps, however, one of the gecko skins slipped without her noticing at first. It hit the ground behind her, and as she turned around to pick it up, Boxcars had limped to her side and icked it up. He held it out to her, and she grabbed it from his hand as if it would be soiled by his sheer presence. Their eyes met for a moment.
“Fuck off”, Sunny suddenly said and spun around, making her way down the hill with hasty, angry steps. Boxcars stared after her with sagging shoulders.

“Should’ve killed me”, he said to Jake when he had limped back to the veranda again.
Jake watched Sunny vanish into her house and said nothing, but he exhaled a long, thoughtful cloud as he cast the man beside him a look from the corners of his eyes that he failed to notice.

A few days later, Sunny found Jake sitting in the saloon with a beer and a smoke, and he walked over to her bearing two bottles when he had seen her enter, as if he had been waiting for her.
“Hi.” Sunny accepted the beer he was offering her. “What can I do for you?”
“For me, nothing.” Jake offered her a smoke, too, that she declined. “What if there was someone who had it bad for you?”
Sunny narrowed her eyes. “I guess that someone is no one I’d willingly look at.”
Jake shrugged. “He ain’t that bad.”
“He’s a powder ganger!”
“He was. He doesn’t want to go on like this, that’s what he said. He just doesn’t know what to do about it.”
“Maybe he should’ve thought about this before he turned into a thug.”
“Damnit, Sunny.” Jake looked down at her. “Don’t you believe in giving someone a second chance?”
She faltered and put her beer down. “I do. But do I have to fuck him because of it?”
“No.” Jake tapped off his ash. “You don’t have to do anything. Just stop treating him as if he is still something he’d rather not be anymore.”
Sunny looked at the table top and sighed. “Oh well, I guess I’ll try to be fair.”
“That’s all I ask of you.”

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

When Jake returned to Goodsprings a few months later, accompanied by a half-robotic dog and a red-haired woman with freckles, the Vault suit exchanged for a combat armour and the baseball bat for a sledgehammer that would take two ordinary men to lift, he ran into a somewhat familiar situation. A group of men were gathered in front of the saloon, armed and hostile, although no shots seemed to have fallen yet, facing a few people of Goodsprings who were armed as well.
In their middle stood Boxcars, the former powder ganger, arms crossed and face tight.

“What’s going on here?”, Jake asked when he reached the congregation.
“None of your fucking business, asshole”, one of the men facing the settlers snapped. He was wearing powder ganger armour, so did the rest. “Fuck off with your abomination and your whore and leave us to our business.”
Jake simply looked up at Trudy who gripped her rifle tighter. Next to her was Sunny, and she looked as ready to charge as Cheyenne at her feet, excluding the raised hackles and flattened ears.
“They’ve got something we want”, the powder ganger said before Trudy could answer. “Him.”
All eyes came to rest on Boxcars.
“You’re a fucking powder ganger, you stay a fucking powder ganger.” Another of the would-be attackers fell in. “We don’t tolerate deserters!”
Jake looked at Boxcars who swallowed. “I’d go, man. But they won’t let me.”
“They’ll kill him!”, Trudy said.
“Yeah, but if I don’t go, they kill all of us!”
“Come on old lady.” One of the powder gangers spat out beside him. “We just want him.”
“Over my dead body”, Sunny hissed.

Jake took a step forward and faced the powder gangers. “This town is under my protection. Know who I am?”
“I don’t fucking care who you are. You could be Caesar himself for all I care, asshole.”
“I’m the Courier. And now fuck off before I make you.”
A few of the more sensible among the powder gangers backed off a bit. Their leader, however, just pulled his gun.
With a sigh, Jake slung the sledgehammer from his back. The robotic dog emitted a low, somewhat metallic growl. “Last chance.”
“Fuck off.”
Jake sighed again. “Rex, get him.”

With a speed that should be physically impossible the dog had launched itself at the leader and torn out his throat before Jake had finished his sentence completely, and within seconds, the two men standing next to him had their skulls caved in by a blow of his sledgehammer. The red-haired woman joined the fight with a battered shotgun but a deadly aim, and before the powder gangers could rally themselves, the settlers joined in. Everything was over very quickly after that.

Once the dust had settled, Jake slung the super sledge onto his back again and looked at Boxcars. “I take it you moved in here?”
The former powder ganger flashed him a hesitating, lopsided grin. “Yeah, man... seriously, I owe you one.”
Jake produced a pack of cigarettes, popped one between his lips and lit it with a grin. “Yeah. If ever I need someone to drag me through the Mojave ‘cause my legs are bust I’ll give you a shout.”
Then he gave him a friendly slap between the shoulder blades that made the smaller man stumble.

Before Boxcars could say anything, Sunny had caught up with them after having checked Cheyenne for injuries. “Oh god, Mitch, I thought they’d kill you! Are you all right?” She fell around his neck and with a self-conscious grin, Boxcars closed his arms around her.
Jake felt his eyebrows rise into his hairline, and his grin widened considerably. “I see you made yourself at home.”
Sunny turned around again to face him, but without letting go. “Thanks, Jake. Really, I mean... not only for today. You know?”
“I know.” Jake smiled at the two. “Mitch, huh?”
“Yeah” Boxcars... no, Mitch fondly ran a hand down Sunny’s back. “It’s my name, you know, before...”
Jake nodded. “Sure. What about a drink? I promised Cass I’d show her the grave I was dug out of and the people who patched me up.”
“Sounds great.”

Jake showed Cass into the Saloon, followed by Mitch and Sunny walking arm in arm. His limp was hardly noticeable any more.

So sweet... :) Might be a new canon! Boxcars/Sunny. Hmmm...

So sweet, there are just no words for it.

Awesome. I love this meme. It always gives me weird, new pairings to adore. :)

I was rooting for Boxcars. I always felt bad for him 'cuz even if he was a criminal, I just always hold out a little hope for people changing.

Also, Boxcars/Sunny is my new rare pair love.

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

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