Stray
Chapter 14

It's like that house again. This time, there are no deathclaws, no slavers after them. They're both just waiting here, like sitting baby naked molerats. Waiting for a bunch of Rivet City security guards to return with a verdict.

Not only does the raider look uncomfortable with the idea, he's uncomfortable with everything else too. Flak understands that the raider loves the sun and the outdoors. This place looks like it's constricting him. Flak finds himself wanting to promise the raider that they'll be out there again soon. When this is over, they'll look down into the water from the bridge. When this is over, they'll visit the flight deck upstairs and... do whatever.

It's just that he doesn't know what will happen out there. He doesn't know what honeyed words Jade will tell the Chief to convince him. He doesn't know what the Chief will find. He doesn't know if the next time the door opens, the Chief will have a gun trained on them. He doesn't know what will happen. The raider snorts and Flak sits up from the couch. He barely manages to get past "Buddy -"

"They ain't gonna get us," the raider cuts him off. "Won't let them get us." And that... that is a promise, isn't it? The raider pulls at his shirt's collar, and Flak thinks about his throat. Thinks about the absence of that spiked shoulder pad, and metal ring he wore around his neck. He thinks about making damn sure that no one collars either of them.

"Okay, buddy." They've done this before, haven't they? They've dodged deathclaws and slavers and raiders and yao guais and bloatflies and the whole fucking Wastes. "Okay." He watches as the raider scrubs his face. It's as if that announcement has taken all the energy out of him. The raider slumps next to Flak on the couch. He opens the suitcase to pick out his book. He also takes out the bottle of scotch and opens it. He drinks, wrapping his lips around the bottle's neck. Without saying anything, he hands the bottle to Flak. Flak takes a drink as well.

Flak watches the raider tracing words on the page, his fingertips looping around the black lines. "Hey," Flak starts and the raider grunts. "Want to learn how to read?" he asks, tasting scotch on his lips. The raider lifts his eyes from the page. There is a crease between his brows.

"Raiders... don't read," the raider says. He doesn't say anything else. And he doesn't say 'No'. And Flak is very aware that he's just made a promise too. They've settled into this silence when the door opens. Chief Danvers lets the door bang against the wall when he enters. There is a pistol in his hand. Flak reaches for his pistol. Fully loaded. The door hasn't even sprung back before the Chief opens his mouth.

"You were right." That statement takes all the breath out of Flak.

"Chief?" he calls. He lowers his hand. The Chief has a triumphant grin on his face. But it does nothing to mask the trickle of blood on his left temple. "Been trying to figure it out forever. Never thought... damn, boys," he exhales. His eyes crinkle at the corners. "You don't know how long we've tried to find the scum. Every few weeks, one or two Rivetians will disappear. It's always the new ones. And I never..."

"So, you got 'em?" the raider asks, breaking his vow to not speak on the ship yet again.

"Yes. Got them and thrown them off the ship." The Chief composes himself. "You asked for immunity. You have it. Rivet City owes you." Well, that's one statement Flak's never expected to hear in his lifetime. He stands up. That's it. Flak's done what he wanted to do. He's fought back. Something in him feels free. And yet... "I've spoken to the Council and they agreed that you should be compensated for your troubles," the Chief starts again. Looking at the both of them, he smooths out his uniform. "Lana says you're gun merchants?" There is some disbelief in his tone. Flak cringes. Rubbing his chin, the Chief rests his gaze on Flak, then the raider. "We got an empty shop in the marketplace now. You boys can clean it up. Start it up again."

"What? You cuttin' us a deal?" the raider blurts out like he's challenging the boss. "A reward?"

"A home, actually, if you want it." The Chief rubs at his cheek as the guard outside the door looks on. "Like I said, Rivet City owes you." He shrugs. "And you boys look lost."

Lost? Flak glances at his raider companion. It feels like they've been lost all their lives.

"What do you say, Mr..." the Chief gestures for a name.

"Flak," he answers turning back to the Chief.

"And..." When the Chief prompts the raider for a name, Flak steps in.

"My buddy doesn't have a na-"

"The name's Shrapnel," the raider interrupts. Flak turns to the raider. He hasn't moved from his seat on the couch. On his lap, the book is open to the page where there is a photo of a piece of flak. He stares back at Flak. There might have been a smile there but it's hidden in shadow.

"So, what's it going to be, Flak and Shrapnel?" the Chief asks them. Flak stares at the raider – Shrapnel, willing him to answer because this will be different, this will be new for the raider. The four walls and ceiling, the people – this is more than immunity for Flak. And this... this is new for him too.

"What do you think, buddy?" he asks. Shrapnel doesn't even look at the four walls and ceiling. He just stares back at Flak.

"Yeah. We're stayin'."

end.