Ugh, finally, the fifth chapter is here. I know. It's been awhile. Like a few weeks. Schedule has been busy as hell, so I haven't had much time to write. But, I will say that this chapter is pretty long. However, it's quite slow, in my opinion, and it kind of slows down the pace, but it's a bit more enriching as well. Hope you guys enjoy.
Oh, by the way, I also posted another Fallout story called "City of Slaves." It's rated M mostly because of language, so you'd have to change the rating filter at the top of the page for it. Please take time to read it and leave a review! M stories are so hard to finish, because rarely do people ever read them.
Chapter 5: Lies and Apologies
"Why are you crying?" Garrick asked her.
Dr. Lang wiped her tears with some tissue paper and but did not want to look at the young man. "It's nothing, Garrick."
Usually, the rest of the doctors would be working late, but somehow, Dr. Lang was home earlier than usual. He didn't have as much time to talk to Elena as he would have hoped. It didn't matter. She was out to see Gerald, anyway.
He saw a bruise on the left side of her cheek, concealed by makeup that she tried to put on. He didn't bring it up, though.
"What are you doing?" Naomi asked, trying to wonder why he was just staring out the window. The car ride wasn't that interesting, and along with that, it was hot since this one was not a newly manufactured vehicle, but a refurbished one that Naomi had bought with the agency's funds. She got it for a bargain price from Tinker Joe, who had moved into the DC area to work on automotives after Purity. Civil development was moving at a blazing speed.
Garrick, in the passenger's seat, turned back to face her. He didn't answer, and instead looked at the road ahead.
"Some kind of trouble at work?" he asked, trying not to pay attention to her concealed bruise. Even if there was trouble at work, Dr. Lang would come to her quarters, happy to see her daughter.
"I'm scared, Garrick," the doctor admitted. "But you can't know about it."
"About last night," Garrick said, reconsidering the apology. Naomi was close enough to him to at least deserve one, even if he hated it. "If I frightened you or anything…"
"You really had me freaked out," she said, her eyes lit up now that he started saying something. It had been a boring hour with the silence in the vehicle. However, she felt that he had more to say, thought it could also account to the fact that she wanted him to say more. Probably along the lines of 'I'm sorry.' But he was silent, and she turned away and frowned disappointingly.
Garrick couldn't do it; he hated doing it. Instead, he stared straight ahead. Tenpenny Tower was getting close now.
He sighed as if he had been hearing that excuse for a long time. It was because of who he was, and why he was here. The fear in her voice was most unusual, since she wasn't one to scare easily. He put a hand on her shoulder while she sat down and covered her face, probably thinking of her child. It was what most humans did, right?
"You're in trouble," Garrick stated. "And it has to do with us."
She didn't answer.
"They're going to kill us, aren't they?"
"You're not going to kill anyone, are you?" she then asked, breaking the long, uncomfortable silence between them. It was a question that had escaped from the pit of her stomach, which grumbled. Then she remembered that she had forgotten to eat for the entire morning, and instead had been watching Garrick's every move.
"I can't promise you that," was all he said.
She almost choked on the lump in her throat, and it did not pass Garrick unnoticed.
"I don't know," said Dr. Lang, sniffling. She had a look on her face as though she could tell him everything. "Garrick, I'm so sorry. I tried and tried to convince them…but they wouldn't listen."
He slightly scowled at her apology.
"They should know that it's futile. There's already too many of us. A mutiny is inevitable," Garrick told her. "I want to stay alive."
Her eyes widened as his words froze her figure altogether. "You're not going to kill the other scientists, are you?"
Despite his sophistication, there were things that only she knew about Garrick upon studying his behavior. There was something twisted inside, even if he was one of the sweetest of them. It was why she had encouraged her daughter to socialize with Gerald instead, and she hated herself for it because Garrick was the only one of them who was close to her. But she didn't want her daughter to be in danger. Even if it meant holding back the most humanely developed of them.
"I can't promise you that," Garrick said.
Naomi brushed back her hair with a hand and took a breath, trying to soothe herself from Garrick's implications. "Why are we here, anyway? I don't like these people. We're not here to see Tenpenny, are we?"
"We're here to see someone else."
After a quick moment, she blinked, deciphering what he had said after picking it up. "No. You're not serious…"
"Very."
"But why?"
"Why not?"
"I'm not a very violent person," he stated. "But I know enough that I'll probably have to fight my way out if I cannot escape by any other means. Will you help us or not?"
She stared at him now, with a certain fear in her eyes. He detected it like a shark detecting its prey underwater. It was the source of his strength, the ultimate dominion over others; the thought of acting and knowing that no one could stop him. And now the pieces were set and pointed in one direction.
"Yes," she said without hesitation. "But only if you bring Elena along with you."
"But what about you?"
"I'll be fine."
"Well, you sure as hell don't look like it," said Chief Gustavo.
"I haven't time for this, Gustavo," Garrick replied. "I need to see him."
The chief of security sighed and opened the gate for them, allowing the two to step into the well-guarded exterior of Tenpenny Tower. It had gotten much more inhabitants since Project Purity, filling up quite a few levels of the multi-floored building. The rest was used as a hotel business, like the renovated Statesman in downtown. The exterior was much extended now, too, even having a small farmer's market next to the new guard barracks. Gustavo stood in front of them with his arms crossed, giving Garrick an unwelcoming, obligated look.
"Alright, but you know the drill. Just keep your weap—"
"I know the fucking drill," Garrick rudely snapped as he stepped past the guard. Naomi was surprised that Gustavo did nothing in response to Garrick's insulting demeanor. But she figured these people were used to him.
Her opinion of his conduct immediately changed, though, when they entered the tower to meet undoubtedly affluent, snobby, and ignorant people who thought that they towered over everyone else. All eyes were already drawn to her upon closing the door, with women whispering to each other, judging her, hoping that she wouldn't notice. Or not. Within the first few seconds, Naomi felt that she wasn't welcomed here, even if she wasn't a ghoul. Her paces ran quicker as she tried to stay inches away from Garrick, feeling as though she wanted to cling onto him for safety.
Maybe the whispers were also for Garrick. Were they afraid that someone so real had entered the tower? Gasps resulted from glances.
"May I help you…sir?" the young receptionist asked. Attention had seemed to dwindle now as everyone moved on with their business.
"I'm here to see Burke. I'm an old friend."
He shook his head, seeming not to understand who Garrick was, based on the reactions in the room. "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid he's busy…"
"He's not."
"Yes, he is," the receptionist asserted. "If you want an appointment, you'll have to wait just like everyone else. And the latest I can do for you is another two hours."
"I'm going up there."
With every defiant word from the receptionist, Naomi grew fearful that Garrick would draw his weapon at any moment. But, she hoped that the public would assure that it wouldn't happen. He wouldn't shoot anyone in broad daylight, right? Right…?
"No, you are not. I will call security if you don't back away, right now. Why did Gustavo let you in here in the first place?"
Garrick stopped and put both of his hands on the counter, staring deeply into the receptionist. The air between them grew silent as Naomi figured what was going to happen next. She cursed herself for leaving her sunglasses in the car, because she just wanted to close her eyes as to what would happen next. She even found herself praying that nothing bad would happen.
"You want to know why?" Garrick asked. "Because once he tried to club me to death because I took advantage of his stupid ass and I ended up breaking his jaw, arm, and four of his fingers. If Burke hadn't apologized on his behalf, I would have slit his throat, tie a bag over his head, and watch him drown in his own blood."
The receptionist's initially unfazed manner sunk to one that was appalled, and of course, fearful. Naomi looked away, trying to hide her face from what was going to happen. It felt like a nightmare that she couldn't wake up from, because she could have sworn she was dreaming.
"Now, this was because I was nervous," Garrick said, edging closer to the receptionist. "And right now, you're making me very, very nervous."
He didn't say anything, but his face was completely drained and pale. A long, uncomfortable moment had passed.
Then, Garrick laughed, backing off in a relaxed posture and smiling.
"Just kidding. I'll be back in a few hours," he said. "Is the Federalist Lounge still around?"
The receptionist let out a nervous chuckle, both terrified and relieved at the same time. When Naomi noticed this, she, too, laughed at the moment. The laughs between them elevated, realizing how ridiculous the situation was. Garrick turned to her and noticed her watery eyes as she sniffled, trying to laugh it off. She didn't know if he was going to kill the receptionist or not, but as of now, she didn't want to find out.
"Yes, to your right," the receptionist said. "I have you reserved. Please return in a few hours."
She followed Garrick to the right and wasn't sure if she was having a heart attack, since she nearly died from that previous moment. They entered the lounge, which was not very full, and sat down at one of the tables. A waiter elegantly strode over, a symbol of the tower's society, and happily greeted the two.
"What can I get you two today?"
"Just a coffee, please," Garrick said.
"And you, miss?"
"I'll have the same," she said. But as the waiter began to leave, she lightly raised a hand. The smell of food suddenly reminded her of how hungry she was, since she hadn't eaten since lunch yesterday. "Oh, wait. Actually, I'll have the white chocolate macadamia cookies and some French toast with extra syrup."
"Right away, miss."
Garrick gave her an inconvenienced glare, but reached over to the other table and snatched the local paper, browsing through the headlines. It wasn't long before the waiter came over and delivered the coffee, to which, he let sit for a quick moment. She quietly reached for some sugar and cream, curiously shooting glances at him as he read the newspaper as if she was waiting for a response.
"Garrick?"
But he didn't seem to notice her.
Naomi looked around for a minute and fiddled with her napkin, waiting for her food to arrive. She wanted to speak to Garrick, but he was occupied. Every passing moment was getting more frustrating, however. It forced her to remember what her mother used to say about her dad; that he was always busy, whether it was with work or being at home. Her mother told her countless times when her father would wake early in the morning and just read old newspapers across the table. He was a hard worker, but her mother always condemned him for never truly being there for them. When they lived in a small town called Plainville out in Virginia somewhere, where it was not bombed, the community still managed to hold together despite the radiation. Despite this, her mother could not tolerate her father anymore, and they moved out to DC to find greater civilization. When she died of cancer, a nice man helped bury her in Arlington. The man, who worked at an organization, offered her a job. She was only 16.
"This newspaper is laughable," he finally said, setting it down and finally adding sugar and cream to his coffee.
Her eyes lit up and she looked at him. "Really, what's it say?"
"Bullshit."
"Like…?"
Garrick grabbed the paper, clearing his throat and lifting the paper up to his face. "It says here, 'The wasteland still hasn't changed, people. Whatever the case may be, we will not be harmed by the fiendish intentions of the devils outside. Tenpenny Tower is still the best out there. Is, and always will be.' Nice elitist touch to it."
"It's not too bad," she said. "It's just propaganda. Baseless."
"Not too bad, huh?" he remarked. "They're a bunch of liars. I may be able to tolerate murder, Naomi, but I do not tolerate lies. The only way these assclowns stay alive is because Gustavo has to do business with the merchants that stop by here every once in awhile. And they still deny the outside."
"Oh, like you've never lied before."
"I haven't," he said with a deadpan face, almost startling her with the honesty in his voice.
"Really?" she gulped. "That's…interesting."
"I either tell the truth or I withhold it."
"Then I guess those Tenpenny writers are a bunch of slandering idiots."
"Some people just deserve to die," he said, sipping his coffee with slight vigor.
"That's uncharacteristic of you."
"Well, provided that you don't know a thing about me, I really can't take you seriously, now can I?" he replied in a biting tone.
She crossed her legs the other way and gave him a defiant look. "Judging from two nights ago, I don't think I'd like to."
"Well, you are lonely, as you so drunkenly said that night. Lonely people tend to cling to others, given the chance."
It was a bold statement of psychology, though one that was not researched, clearly. She knew he was trying to toy with her, which she hated.
"I'll just make sure that I don't do that anytime soon, then."
Garrick chuckled and brought the coffee up for a sip, because that's already happened. A quick moment passed before she decided to change the topic.
"What do you think will happen to DC now that the water's clean?"
"Don't care."
"But so many have died," she commented, looking away.
He didn't answer, and instead brought the coffee up for another sip. The waiter delivered the food for Naomi, but like Garrick earlier, she did not want to touch her delivery. Instead, she sat there, clearly in a deep state of thought. He engaged her reactions and realized that she was serious.
She looked back up to him. "Do you believe in an afterlife?"
"A what?"
"You know, an afterlife. Like in religion. Surely, your parents made you go to the local church, didn't they?"
"What if I'm Jewish?"
"Are you?"
"No. I was merely reflecting on your prejudgment."
"That you were Christian?"
Garrick smirked.
"So?" she said, staring at him with her head resting on her hand. "Do you believe in an afterlife?"
He slightly shrugged. "I never really cared."
"Why not? Isn't it supposed to be a wonder for most people?"
To this, Garrick shook his head. "No. Why worry about what happens after when we can focus on the now? I don't think we should meditate on the judgment of some greater being after we're dead. Religion is useless to me."
"But you underestimate the significance of such a thing. Doesn't religion guide people through hard times? Doesn't it help?"
"I never said that it didn't," Garrick said. "But I will say that people certainly blow it out of proportion, therefore making it useless."
"How so?"
"Wars have been fought over such a thing," Garrick told her. "How could God really care if people are getting slaughtered every day? If parents are getting butchered and their children are being sold into slavery? If little girls are being smuggled down into Mexico to be a part of some sex enterprise ran by a fat, wrinkly old man who enjoys the company of children?"
His rhetoric slightly sank her mood for the moment as she sat there and listened.
"How could he care if I'm getting away with murder left and right?" he then said. "God isn't there. It's only us."
Naomi sighed and gave him a somber expression. "Well, you may not believe that there's something greater out there, or God, or whatever, but I guess some of us were never meant to be content, right?"
Garrick chuckled. "Sorry, Naomi, but you have me completely wrong."
She waited to hear his response.
"I most certainly believe in God," he said, finishing his coffee. "And I most certainly hate him."
"I'm sorry you feel that way."
"Don't apologize," Garrick said. "Apologies are a cheap substitute for justification."
"I don't have to worry," she said. "I think, in the end, justice is coming to us all."
He gave her a contemplating stare.
"We'll see."
--
"I dunno. There's just something about the way you've always been…"
He watched Elena slowly pace around his room, running her hand across the drawer as she passed. She stopped and stared at the picture of him and Gerald at one of the indoor football matches that the scientists crammed in a few years ago before shutting it down. They would watch and observe vigorously to see how each of them operated. Every so often, they would sit a certain amount of people, or even just one person to see if it affected team morale. Leadership was what they were looking for. Gerald was a natural leader. But Garrick, he was different. He never felt the need to lead, nor the need to operate as a team. And his attitude was a strikingly different one from the others. To her, it made him dangerous, and arousing. But was the danger worth it?
Garrick awaited an answer from her. He was starting to hate waiting for others. He had to leave. He just had to.
"And?"
He didn't want her to lie, obviously.
"You should just leave without me. If the world outside is as dangerous as we think it is, then I would only slow you down."
There was no response from him.
"What is it?"
"Gerald isn't coming," Garrick said. "He said he's only coming if you are."
He kept the rest of his thoughts to himself, and tried not to convey what he thought about it. Gerald was clearly in love with her. She was all he ever spoke about when Garrick spoke with him.
"Garrick…" she said, almost apologetically. But the only thing it meant to Garrick was that he couldn't hold his expressions back.
"What?" he replied, almost in a demanding voice. It intimidated her, and caused her to turn away for that brief moment.
"I'm…"
"You're what? Sorry? For what?" he spoke in rapid-fire succession. "Look, if you're not coming, then that's fine."
He was used to being alone, anyway.
Elena was going to cry, but she managed to hold it back. "Garrick, I really am. I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize," he told her in a rough tone. "You're not sorry for anything, so don't try to justify yourself. I know that you're fond of Gerald. Very. You told me that if we'd escape, you and I would be together."
"Garrick…"
He took a few steps and gave her an affectionate stare, almost heartbroken but still just hopeful enough. She met his face, a stream of tears down her cheek. He brought a hand and caressed her cheek, wiping her tears away.
"Were you lying to me?"
It was delivered softly, but the accusatory diction managed to hurt her.
She shook her head. "No. But it's complicated, Garrick."
"You wanna know what I saw the other day?" he then asked. She didn't answer, but he continued anyway. "I saw Doctor Campbell fucking with one of their brains. When they were finished, all the poor guy could say was his name, over and over again. They're already starting."
"You didn't tell Gerald?"
He was silent.
"Why not?!" her voice raised. "You don't want him to become…"
"If you want to tell him, then it should be you."
"Garrick—"
"He lied to me," Garrick said. "People who violate my trust don't deserve my help."
She sobbed. "He's like your brother. Can't you just forgive him?"
"No. Leave."
His cold shoulder nearly floored her, excusing her as if she were security. She took a breath and watched him sit on his bed, and when she realized that Garrick was actually closing her out for the night, she immediately exited the room and went looking for Gerald.
Garrick sighed and contemplated for a second. She was a liar, too. A liar, just like they were. Those damned scientists who made promises upon promises but never kept to their word. He wanted to wrangle someone by the throat right now, and watch the life perish from their eyes. But he took a breath and stared at the picture of Gerald and him at one of the old football games. Friends forever, Gerald once promised. Brothers. Where were the friends and brothers now? The scientists who favored Gerald were likely not going to perform any brain experiments anytime soon. Gerald was their Golden Boy, their star subject, their saint. But Garrick knew the truth. They were all liars. If Gerald cooperates with them, they will only use him as a resource until he is withered and dead. Until his soul is gone.
But Gerald had lied to him. Gerald promised not to get involved with Elena.
He was alone.
--
Burke was not a modest man. Though his voice was smooth and seductive, he was far from a modest, fair person. Burke enjoyed what he did, and it was something Garrick could never understand. How could someone take pleasure in killing innocent people? Of course, both Burke and Tenpenny thought they were doing the correct things. Removing Megaton was supposed to be a help to humanity, as the businessman would put it. Garrick remembered having a long discussion about it, and ultimately decided that destroying Megaton would be bad for business. Burke, back then, being a hit man first and a lapdog for Tenpenny second, agreed, though recent word has it that he's been trying to set off the bomb again. Too bad the Vault dweller had shut the operation down. Now Burke spends his days improving local issues. Recently, he had just extinguished a bunch of ghouls down in the Warrington tunnels.
"Now, now," Burke said, stirring his martini and leaning back in his chair on the balcony, hundreds of feet above the wastes. "Who could possibly be hunting the hunter, hunter?"
Garrick, turning away from the view of Tenpenny speaking with Naomi back inside the building, gave Burke a stare, scowling in contrast to Burke's devilish smile.
"You know that news travels quickly, Arnold," he said, taking a drag of his cigarette.
"It certainly isn't my problem," Mister Burke said in a frank manner.
"Campbell will sweep through this place like a disease," Garrick told him. "I know you can feel it, too. Someone has their grip on that rug. It won't be long before they sweep it underneath your feet; before it all crumbles."
"And what are you going to do about it?" Burke asked. "Kill the doctor?"
"If a man can bleed, death is always possible," Garrick retorted.
"Then good luck."
Garrick smirked and sipped his drink, as well. "Certainly hold up to your word, don't you?"
Burke chuckled, unprovoked. "Garrick, if you'd like my help, all you have to do is ask. I do owe you one."
Garrick couldn't trust him, and a wave of suspicion came to him. "What's the catch?"
"You're the one who came to me. There's no catch."
"Fine," Garrick said. "How far is Campbell's reach?"
"He runs the remnants of the Enclave after that little mishap over at Raven Rock," Burke told him. "Counting the Enclave soldiers scattered throughout DC, I'd say his military arm is extensive. He also has Talon Company on his payroll."
"Is he just looking for power?"
"No, I wouldn't say so," he responded. "Campbell, back in his Brotherhood days seemed too interesting—and smart—a man to indulge in power. He's after something else. Why it involves you might have something to do with something that has happened between you two."
"Don't need to remind me of that," Garrick asserted.
"Who else is after me?"
He leaned in towards Garrick and fixed his sunglasses before speaking. "They've sent Sentinel Lyons after you, and…"
Garrick raised an eyebrow, keeping a close ear to what was going to be said next.
"Harkness."
Though Garrick was unaffected, Burke could suspect an irritation coming from him. "I figured the bastard would be too busy with his shitty boat city. Dodson mentioned him."
"Then you know that they have a good chance of finding you," Burke took another sip. "What happened to Dodson, by the way?"
"He's dead."
The businessman looked away with a sigh. "You can't go around doing that. It's bad for business."
"He was a liability."
"Then you're no crazier than Campbell."
"Campbell tried to blow me into oblivion on a hotel floor," Garrick said. "Somebody knows why. Someone knows."
"I don't. But you don't have to be so fierce about it," Burke said. "You'll get sloppy."
Garrick stood up and put his hands on the concrete balcony railing, staring off into the distance, viewing the wasteland from a high perspective. It was almost beautiful, how quiet it could be when walking alone. But now, things are changing. It's getting easier to track people. Information is passing too quickly amongst the scum. He didn't know why he was suddenly so angry, even though he knew that he should just be apathetic about it. Something inside him was changing, as well. His apathy was slipping away.
"This place," Garrick said. "It's becoming an abattoir of retarded children. The rug is slipping. Those liars and hypocrites will thrive when Campbell takes over."
He turned around to Burke and sighed.
"I've always thought that a system never changes. At the core, I don't think it does. But, it can't change into this."
"Garrick, Garrick…" Burke chuckled darkly. "Proactive now? I never thought you'd be."
"No, I'm not," Garrick said. "I don't think any of us can stop it. That's why I'm settling this with Campbell, and Campbell only."
They both shared a long stare and Garrick reached for his drink again, sipping from it quickly, as if he was startled or dreading something. When Burke noticed that there was no conversation to be made, he turned and took a good look at Naomi, then looked at Garrick with a nod.
"So that woman you introduced to me earlier…Naomi."
"She's my contact."
Arnold Burke nodded and finished his drink. "She's very beautiful."
"Uh huh," Garrick said, detached, still thinking.
"I spoke with her earlier before I came here to speak with you," Burke said. "She's a very nice person."
Garrick turned to him in annoyance. "Where the hell are you going with this?"
"Opportunities don't come that very often."
"Sex is the last thing on my mind right now."
"No, not that. I think she has an affinity for you," Burke told him. The two sat for another quiet moment before he spoke again. "One day you wake up, and everything is gone. I understand the fuel that drives you."
For that small moment, Garrick finally had a glimpse underneath Burke's cold, dead exterior. Burke had never been quite like this before, but they have known one another for a very long time. Though they were indirect enemies at once, they took it upon one another to have the honor not to blow each other's head off. They just avoided each other.
Burke looked away. "It's terrifying."
He chuckled and looked away from the sentimental Burke. "You're getting soft."
"No. Realistic. It's not very often that I give advice," Burke said. "You've at least earned it."
Earned Burke's advice? It was true that Burke was neither a man of sentiment nor small talk. He was always about business, and what he could do to reach his goals. This strange moment prompted Garrick to be more aware of himself, and allowing him to withdraw just slightly. However, it was interesting that Burke had brought up Naomi. Garrick knew, though, that Arnold was trying to break past his psychological barrier. He couldn't allow himself to get too involved in this conversation.
"So what do you think, then?"
"I think you're an unsatisfied ghost trapped in a dead man's body."
"Outlandish," Garrick said, taking a sip.
Burke smiled and stood up again, holding out a hand. "Maybe you're right. Maybe the ground beneath us is crumbling. But I wish you luck."
Oddly, Garrick shook Mister Burke's hand and gave him a nod. "I'll make sure Campbell dies. He's a liability as well."
At those words, Burke chuckled loudly at the realization that Garrick had returned to his old self. "Your contradictions shall be your end. If you track down your trackers, then you will have an opening for Campbell. Sentinel Lyons seems too smart to obey his orders like some dog."
--
Garrick peered through the gaps in the locker as security grabbed her by the hair and tossed her into the room. She was whimpering, but not loudly. Too soft a cry to be heard from afar. Campbell walked into the room and pulled up a chair as the short line of security stood in an erect posture, awaiting orders. She was on her knees, her makeup messy and hair wet from previous water torture. They humiliated her by stripping her down to her underwear and made crude sexual remarks at her. Garrick could only watch, hidden behind the locker.
He was in the staff room to find information on the rest of the subjects, and when the lights down the hallway shut down for curfew, he heard steps rushing his direction. That's when he entered the locker.
"I know that you want to get your daughter out," Campbell said with an almost indifferent tone. "I just didn't expect you to go through my things."
Justine Lang cried to herself. "You're a monster."
Swiftly, he grabbed her by the hair and tossed her onto the table. Her whimpers turned to cries of excruciating pain.
He sighed, wiping his hands on his doctor's coat. "No. I'm just a man."
She crawled her way over to him, defeated, and begged him for mercy. "Please!"
With anger out of her weakness, he backhanded her face, which would likely leave a horrible bruise. Garrick could only watch.
"You're pitiful," he said. "You show too much compassion for these subjects. You're too weak."
While she was still on the ground, crawling on her knees, he kicked her in the abdomen hard enough to bruise her ribs. She shrieked and cried, but no one could hear. Campbell snatched her by the hair yet again and pulled her up near his face.
"You will obey all orders given to you," he told her. "If there is any more subordination, or if you even dare to look to them with a pinch of sympathy, you will watch your daughter die."
And then he threw her to the ground and left with security, leaving her defeated in the middle of the staff room sobbing to herself out of extreme fear. The air was cold and the night was silent.
Almost immediately, Garrick exited the locker and rushed to her. She looked up to him with tears ruining her makeup. He inspected the cuts on her face and the bruises that had already formed, realizing that they were not as severe as he thought they were. He could detect the surprise on her expression, even with the only light being the pool from above.
"Wh…what are you doing here?" she asked, choking back her sobs. "You're not supposed…to see me like this…"
Garrick was hardly even with her state of emotion. "Stay here. I'll grab you some bandages and clean up those wounds. First aid kit in here?"
She was even more surprised at how quickly he acted about the wounds. And she was the doctor. "They're on the shelf. Over there."
Quickly, he made his way past the darkness of the room towards the shelf and snatched the first aid kit hanging from the wall next to the sink. As he returned, he knew that she wouldn't be able to put makeup over those wounds. He reached for the peroxide and the cotton balls, dipping them into the liquid and looking up to meet her face.
"This'll burn."
She let out long, drawn, painful moans as he ran the peroxide across her wounds.
"You should have told me about this earlier," he said while cleaning her up.
"B-but Elena, Garrick," she sobbed. "I just wanted to protect her. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me…"
At that moment, he sympathized with her wishes, and forgave both Elena and Gerald for breaking his trust. They were family, and they had to stick together, right? His eyes watered, but he wouldn't let himself cry. Garrick embraced her like a mother, letting her cry on his shoulder until she was satisfied. Time was running out.
--
"Mr. Tenpenny's a charming man," Naomi said.
Garrick was in the driver's seat this time. "He's an annoying elitist."
She gasped. "God, you never have anything nice to say, don't you?"
"No. I don't."
"That's probably why you don't have any friends," she said, staring out her window. "You're disagreeable."
Garrick found her tone somewhat angry and fed up with his attitude. He did, however, know that she's had to put up with him this entire time. It didn't matter, though. He had other things to worry about.
"The only reason why I've been alive this entire time is because I've followed my rules," he responded. "Compromise is not one of them."
Naomi gave him a venomous hiss. "Compromise is the basis for human relationships. It's something that you don't have. Whenever I talk to you, it's always something bad coming out of that mouth of yours."
He looked away, and she realized that she probably hit a nerve. Trying to get a look on his face, Naomi wanted to see what his reaction was. She was waiting for another reply (something even more biting than hers), but he seemed to busy thinking to himself to engage in conversation, so she reached for the radio and turned on GNR. As she turned it on, she looked at him, to which he responded with an exasperated scowl. Laughing, she bobbed her head to the rhythm of the music.
"Hey, I thought you liked music."
"Not right now," he growled.
Scowling, Naomi turned off the radio.
"So," she said. "Where are we going now?"
"There are people hunting us," Garrick said. "Or, at least a person and an android. I need the instruction manual on how to track down and shut down an android like Harkness. It's likely that they'll find us."
"What? Why do you say that?"
He gave her a deadpan look. "Harkness is a master tracker. He used to run down other androids. It's more than likely that he will find us."
"Uh, I think the Commonwealth is pretty far from here," she said. "Won't it take awhile?"
"No. I'm not going that far," he said. "The only other place around with an instruction manual for an android slave is—"
"Paradise Falls."
"Yeah."
Another moment passed by while in the car. He was quiet. She felt awful all of a sudden, empathizing with all the stress that he must be enduring at the moment. Garrick had been tense the entire time that they had left for Tenpenny Tower, and she didn't want to make it any worse.
"I'm sorry," she said.
He looked surprised. "For what?"
"That little remark about compromise," she said. "And don't tell me not to apologize. I shouldn't have said that."
She thought that he wouldn't accept her apology, or that he'd go on another tirade about how people shouldn't apologize and all that crap. But, for that small moment, Garrick cracked a slight smirk and looked at her. She turned to face him, but only just quickly, since his gaze was hard to match. He reached over to her and patted her hand which was resting on her lap, a rare gesture of warmth.
"It's alright," he said. "You've kept me alive for all these years, right? A lesser contact couldn't do what you do."
To this, Naomi only smiled, and could not say anything else.
"It's just difficult, that's all," he told her, more modest in his tone. "And I appreciate you putting up with me this entire time. There's just a lot of things going through my mind right now."
"I understand," she said. He was quite charming when he wasn't a tight ass, and the way he articulated his explanation made her heart flutter. It was awhile before there was another response from him.
"You can turn the radio back on if you'd like," he said.
She was surprised at this, too. "Oh. Uh, okay."
Garrick knew that he'd have to find his hunters before they hunted him. With any luck, explaining himself to Lyons and Harkness shouldn't be too hard.
Well, there you have it. Next chapter will have a stronger focus on Lyons/Harkness and more backstory, as well. Please review and tell me what you think! And don't forget to check out City of Slaves! It's my attempt at a more upbeat story that's less heavy handed than this one. Thanks for reading.