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Violet/Cpl. Betsy, the world's worst rescue

Date: 2011-12-30 04:40 am (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
Violet steals/saves Betsy from Cook-Cook and the corporal feels oddly grateful. She did mention feeling sorry for those junkie girls every so often.

Dub-con at the most would be preferable, if not completely consensual.

Stay (1/?)

Date: 2012-06-27 03:40 pm (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
Characters: Betsy, Violet
Kinks: none, almost non-con for a second
Relationship: gen
Summary: Violet rescues Betsy, wants the soldier to stay with her, and can't tell the difference between people and dogs

-------

When the shooting started, Betsy was naked, tied to a post in Cook Cook’s camp, a bloody burlap sack pulled over her head. As she heard the Fiends move away from her to look for more defensible positions she began struggling against her bonds. This was likely her only shot at escape. Cook Cook’s Fiends were shrieking, apparently loosing to whatever they were fighting. It was too much to hope for that it was NCR forces.

The ropes around her wrists came loose, and she yanked her arms free. Ripping the sack off her head, she shakily got to her feet, and promptly threw up. The pain from the beating she’d received after the Fiends had finished their first couple rounds of “fun” had welled up all at once as she stood. Her vision was blurred and her body was still trying to heave up the contents of her (empty) stomach, but she had to muscle through it if she wanted to get out of here.

Were those dogs barking? Betsy didn’t know which direction to go, and the baying and gunshots weren’t helping her get her bearings. Scanning the surrounding ruins, she suddenly caught sight of 10 of Spades. He was ducked behind some rubble, waving desperately to get her attention. Had he stuck around when she got captured?

She lurched forward, trying to get to him, but one of Cook Cook’s Fiends suddenly rushed her from her left. He knocked Betsy to the ground, and she raised her arm to try and protect herself from his blows. The man’s face was bleeding heavily- it looked like something had tried to bite it off.

That something had been a dog. The man must have thought he’d escaped from it, but the animal suddenly leapt at him from the rubble. Betsy got to her feet again as the Fiend tried to rip the dog off his arm. But now there were a few more Fiends between her and 10, falling back from the dogs and whoever was shooting. They’d been taken by surprise and were scattered.

Betsy motioned to 10 to leave. They’d have to find their own separate ways back to Camp McCarran.

Betsy cleared the ruins, adrenaline helping to numb the pain that had been slowing her down. She passed two dead dogs, their blood pooling around them. Form the sounds of it Cook Cook’s band had won and was regrouping. She pushed herself to go faster.

Suddenly, she was on the ground, tackled, her attackers knee digging painfully into her back. She felt a knife at her throat.

“Get up. Come.” She heard a woman hiss as she was dragged back up to her feet and pushed forward. Betsy complied. She was too weak to try and fight back.

Re: Stay (2/?)

Date: 2012-06-27 03:42 pm (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
They left Cook Cook’s territory behind. His band had tried to come after them, but the remaining dogs kept them off the trail. Her captor kept behind her, kept the knife at her throat, and pushed her onward at a painfully quick pace. Judging by the dogs, Betsy figured it was the Fiend Violet who’d recaptured her. This was confirmed when Betsy caught sight of the trailer fort, described to First Recon by the few survivors who’d managed to escape Violet and her hounds.

Violet directed Betsy to the center of the encampment, and pushed her to her knees. This was it. Betsy had escaped one Fiend only to start the whole hellish ordeal over again. She hoped she’d at least been brought back as a chew toy for the dogs, and not a toy for Violet. She would not be able to handle that again. Not a second time. She was fine now, though. Fine.

Violet grabbed the back of the soldier’s head, directing her to look at the dogs she’d left behind in their trailers.

“See dogs?” Betsy hadn’t realized Violet wanted a response and said nothing. Violet punched her in the side of the head. Over the ringing that now filled her ears, Betsy heard the other woman speak again.

“See dogs?”

“Yes. Yes I see the dogs.”

“Good. My dogs. Good dogs. Good dogs.” Violet patted the top of Betsy’s head.

“Dogs died today. My dogs. Whimpering little pups. Whimpering in the dust.”

“Yes,” Betsy responded just to be safe.

“My dogs.” Violet tightened her grip on Betsy’s head, her fingernails digging into the solder’s scalp.

“Mine. Stay.” Violet released Betsy’s head, and patted it again before leaving. Betsy could hear her climbing up to the second story of the fort. She wanted to believe that last command, and the last claim of ownership had been directed at the dogs. But she knew it hadn’t been.

Her hands were shaking. She pressed them together, trying to get them to stop trembling. She was still naked. She took a deep breath and slowly pushed herself to her feet again. She slowly climbed up to the first floor of the metal shack. Her sides were on fire and the pounding in her head was almost blinding. She felt sick, and lay down on her back on the floor. The sky was spinning.

She wasn’t sure if she’d passed out, or just closed her eyes for a bit. Judging by the sun, it was an hour later than when she’d pulled herself up here. Painfully, she shifted her head a bit, and caught sight of Violet looking down through the gaps in the second story floor at her.

She was still naked. She crossed her arms over her breasts, trying to ignore the bite marks.

There was a pile of clothes sitting in one of the crates littering Violet’s camp. Betsy dragged herself over. All of the clothes were covered in blood, at the least, and most were ripped nearly to shreds and perforated with canine teeth marks. As Betsy shifted through the pile looking for something that would fit her imposing frame, she tried not to think about the previous owners. Unsuccessfully- she couldn’t keep the thoughts out of her head. Had Violet also “rescued” these people? How many of them had been alive when fed to her dogs?

Betsy finally found a shirt and pants that were still somewhat hanging together. The shirt’s right sleeve was shredded to ribbons and soaked in blood. Betsy ripped it from the shirt, and then did the same with the left sleeve before putting it on. At least it was symmetrical. Outside of uniform, Betsy had never really cared much about her appearance, but now she just wanted to look like she was fine- not in complete disarray. She would be fine then.

Violet, thankfully, was leaving her alone, other than continuing to look at her through the floor. Betsy continued to lie on the floor until the sun had almost set. As she stood up once more, the pain in her head and dizziness was much less than what it had been before.

Stay (3/?)

Date: 2012-06-27 03:44 pm (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
There was a bloody mattress lying not to far from her. She pulled it to the edge of the shack, and pushed it over the edge to the ground below. After slowly climbing back down to the ground, she began pulling it towards the edge of the camp. As she got closer she checked to see where Violet was. The Fiend had climbed down from the shack and was watching her, holding onto the collars of two dogs. Betsy immediately stopped what she was doing. She’d move the mattress to just next to one of the trailers; apparently the only one that was thankfully empty of either dogs or human remains. She was just still inside the camp.

Playing it safe, she let go of the mattress and lay down. If she went any further she risked the dogs, but Violet seemed somewhat fine with her being where she was. She probably shouldn’t go to sleep, but she just wanted to lie down.

As blistering as the Mojave was during the day, at night it could be frigid. Why so many soldiers bitched about the heat and wished for nuclear winter in the day, when in just a few hours the setting sun would bring bone-biting chill, Betsy never understood. The bloody pallet Betsy had recovered offered no warmth. She hadn’t started her own fire, worrying that it would for some reason set off Violet or her dogs. She’d been antsy enough at Betsy moving to the edge of the camp.

Betsy hugged her arms to her chest and shivered. She was debating whether she should move closer to the camp’s fire, and by extension Violet and the dogs, or if she should just make a break for it. Running from a pack of dogs would at least keep her warm. She very much doubted she’d be able to walk more than a few steps though let alone an all-out run. She tensed as she heard a single set of footsteps come up behind her, but didn’t move. She figured quick movements risked setting the Fiend off.

Violet slowly lowered herself down next to the soldier and lay down beside her. Betsy didn’t react. Violet ran her hands up Betsy’s back. Betsy still didn’t react. She could feel the other woman’s hips pressing against her own. Betsy shifted slightly, putting a bit of space between her own body and Violet’s. The other woman didn’t seem to care, and responded by pressing her lips against the back of Betsy’s neck. Betsy shrugged her away. The other woman was moving slow and keeping quiet, but she kept trying. Betsy was beginning to feel like she might vomit just as Violet began scratching her head, running her fingers through the soldier’s buzzed hair. A bit like a dog, Betsy thought. Normally she loved when a woman ran her fingers through the short hair. Not now. She jerked her head away.

Violet stopped trying to touch her for a bit, but continued to lie next to her. The two women were quiet, Betsy listening to Violet’s breathing, hoping she would just go to sleep. She could handle just sleeping next to the other woman. That would be fine.

Violet didn’t want to keep still though, and before long her hands were roving over Betsy’s back and arms again. Betsy shifted slightly away once more, but Violet wouldn’t be shaken off this time. Violet wrapped her arms around the soldier, and pressed one of her hands against Betsy’s crotch. That was too much. Betsy jerked away, the violence of her movement causing her headache to return with a vengeance.

She was now lying on the ground facing Violet, who was still lying on the mattress, regarding the other woman quizzically. Betsy’s breathing was heavy and she could feel bile in the back of her throat. She choked it back.

Violet seemed to think hard for a moment. “Okay.” She pushed herself to her feet.

Stay (4/?)

Date: 2012-06-27 03:45 pm (UTC)
From: (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.

Stay (5/5)

Date: 2012-06-27 03:45 pm (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
“Look, its not anything…personal,” Betsy stopped herself. Sounded like she was breaking up with the girl.

“Staystaystaystay,” Violet was muttering under her breath now. Betsy couldn’t think of anyway to console the girl, she just took another step back. Violet followed again.

“Dogs stay. Dogs stay when I tell them stay. You stay.” Betsy moved back again. Violet followed, keeping the same distance between them, but she was getting more and more worked up.

“You don’t stay, you bad. Dogs stay, dogs good. Set good dogs on bad lady, they chew your bones.” Violet barked and bared her teeth again, her shoulders hunched like she was ready to launch herself at Betsy’s throat. Betsy closed her eyes again. She just couldn’t handle this right now. She felt bad about the Fiend’s tears, even as the woman threatened to kill her. Betsy wondered if Violet would just feed her body to the dogs, or cannibalize her. There was suddenly a light pressure above the bloom of pain in her ribs. Opening her eyes once more, Betsy saw that Violet was gently touching her side above what was surely at least one broken rib, and silently sobbing. Poor girl was probably too strung out to know what was actually happening, to understand why Betsy had to leave. why her bared teeth weren’t helping, why Betsy did not act the same as her dogs. She doubted that Violet even remembered last night. If she did, there was no way she understood why Betsy had reacted the way she did. Violet couldn’t understand she was the bad guy right now.

Betsy lightly grabbed the other woman’s shoulders. Violet looked away.

“Sorrysorrysorry.” Did Violet even know why she was apologizing? Poor junkie bitch. Poor lost girl. Covered in blood and running with dogs.

Betsy held the other woman for a few moments, as much supporting herself against the spinning wasteland, as she was comforting the Fiend. But she couldn’t stay here. She couldn’t help Violet. She pulled away and again took a step back. Violet didn’t follow this time, and kept a tight grip on her dog’s leash. Betsy took another step. No response. Another. No response. Slowly, Betsy turned and walked a few feet. She heard Violet move behind her. Turning, the junkie had closed the gap between them again, but was standing still and watching Betsy. Betsy regarded her for a second, before turning and striding forward again. She could hear Violet following, but at a distance.

It was agonizing making her way back to Camp McCarran under the heat of what was now midday, and her wounds from before. Violet followed her the whole time. She found herself wondering what would happen if she fell. Would Violet then kill her, letting loose the single hound? Or would she help her up and return to trailing behind her? Finally, Betsy could make out the flag of the NCR, and then the high walls of the fort. As she got closer, she realized she could no longer hear Violet’s footsteps behind her. Turning, she could see the Fiend a way off, much farther than the distance she had previously been following at. She wouldn’t come any closer to the camp and enemy guns. She stayed where she was and watched Betsy’s slow progress over the rest of the distance to the camp.

As Betsy finally touched the gate to Camp McCarran, she paused. She wondered if Violet was still watching her progress. She didn’t look back to check.

Re: Stay (5/5)

Date: 2012-06-27 07:04 pm (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
Beeeeeeeeeeeetsyyyyyyyyy. T__T This is gorgeous, anon! WHY DO I KNOW HOW TO FEEEEEEEEL?

Re: Stay (5/5)

Date: 2012-06-29 06:51 pm (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
Yup, right in the feels.
...Now I kinda want to see follow up fic of Betsy saving Violet from her own fate.

Re: Stay (5/5)

Date: 2012-07-13 12:10 am (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
wow! Outstanding!!

Re: Stay (5/5)

Date: 2012-07-15 05:22 am (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
I feel bad for both of them, really. Poor Violet...and oh God, Betsy, she's been through horrendous, horrendous things.

Good job, a!a. This fic hit right in the feels.

Re: Stay (5/5)

Date: 2014-01-27 02:43 am (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
Oh geez. This was just absolutely heartbreaking, even though I KNOW there is no way it would ever work out. Violet is just so... broken, you really humanized the 'crazy dog lady' for me. I appreciate how you did it without prettying up or downplaying the fact that she is still not a nice person.

This gave me feels.

Re: Stay (5/5)

Date: 2014-11-06 07:23 pm (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
This is so sad, A!A.

Re: Stay (5/5)

Date: 2015-04-09 04:57 am (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
oh my gosh that was sad. this is going in my fav fics list.

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