@fasciinating / "You come from a world of rules and laws. This place is indifferent to all of that. I do not think you would be willing to do what it takes to survive here."
"I know where I come from!"
It's a shout strangling her vocal chords; hatred and frustration and so much embarrassment flood her system the longer Spock belittles her desires. He's not the first soul of the wasteland to suggest that she is better off tucking her tail between her legs to trace her steps backwards until her that shiny '28' hits the familiar steel gear she's stared at, mesmerized, loathed -- ever since she was a child.
The barrier that kept her locked tight like a little sparrow in a cage. Echo never wants to witness the sight of another fucking vault ever again.
"All you do is tell me what I can and cannot do. You think my life down there was any different? You're right, Spock: the surface is indifferent to people who follow the rules and keep their head down, yet somehow it hasn't clicked in your thick skull that that is why I'm still here. I'm so sick of hearing you act as if I haven't weighed the consequences over and over in my head with every goddamn step we take!"
The former vault dweller takes a step closer to her companion, daring him to fire back. To fight. All she ever wants anymore is to fight.
"I don't want certainty," she exhales, shoulders dropping like she's unloaded a burden pinching them together. "I don't want to wake up in the comfort of some prison cell knowing I'll make it past tomorrow."
Only then does she realize she's in his face, breath hot and heavy. She glares flickers from his mouth to his eyes, trying to get ahold of her temper before it explodes.
"And if you don't think I'd do anything to stay as far away from Vault-Tec's bullshit, then you really don't know a damn thing about me."