The Girl and Her Radio
Rating: Gen Aud
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: Gen
Fandoms: Fallout 3 - Fandom
Relationships: N/A
Word count: 1,628
The girl spent a lot of time down at the restaurant that resided below her home. When she wasn’t at the restaurant she spent a lot of time shut up in her bedroom. Saying she wasn’t the most sociable person in the world was a gross understatement. Her room was only a couple of feet away from the room she ‘gave’ to me, yet she didn't try to take advantage of our being so near to each other. She never asked anything of me nor commanded me to do her bidding. The door to her bedroom was rarely even open, even when she was gone. I had only seen short glimpses of the area- messy with scattered clothes and armor, a chair, a desk covered in gadgets and wire.
I was often left alone in the house. Even though I preferred this, it took some getting used to. Especially after having spent so long working in a cramped and busy bar. The metal walls of the house would creak with the wind... the slow and steady drip of the sink in the kitchen echoed through the near-dead silence. The house was quiet and most of the time I was alone with my thoughts. Often those thoughts were tense and agitated, callous and vengeful. The only consistent noise was the muffled hum of music from her pip-boy. It would often play and lullaby to me through the door, soothing me to calm down. Sometimes it was the local radio, other times it was music I didn’t recognize, music I’d never heard before. The flow of the songs could lull me into a relaxed daze I would never be able to achieve myself.
She must have liked the music, as well. Maybe she had listened to it in the vault, maybe she'd listened to it all her life. Perhaps she also hated silence? Hated the constant, maddening drip-drip-drip of the sink? Needed something to drown it out before it drove her crazy? If that was the case, then we had a thing in common.
She would switch the channel immediately every time the broadcaster started talking- he got on her nerves. I almost missed listening to him talk. I would listen and enjoy his chatter on the radio at the Ninth Circle. Not that anyone would ever get that information out of me. I had enjoyed hearing about the happenings out in the wasteland, and what bullshit the Brotherhood of Steel was up to. It was something to take my mind off the boredom while all I had to do was keep an eye on the drunks in the bar.
For the last six months I hadn’t gotten the chance to hear news from the broadcaster at all. The closest I’d gotten was “You’re listening to Galaxy News Radio and I’m your host, three-”, “What’s up, wastelanders, this is three-”, and “Hello, capital wasteland, this is thr-”. It never got very far.
The nearest radio beside her pip-boy was in the bar at the back of town. But it sat on the opposite side of my employer’s house, too far for me to venture. I had no interest in straying further than what she had pseudo-ordered, and I stayed put.
I didn’t go outside into the town very often at all. Most of the time the only reason I left the building at all was to leave the town completely. I didn’t explore the area nor did I wander around. I didn’t want to run into the townspeople, friend or foe. It was better that I stayed out of the humans’ line of view as much as possible. It was better for all of us that way, but especially better for my employer and myself. She was crazy for bringing me here to a human settlement. Her merely being near me with other humans could be enough to trigger angry feelings or even suspicion in some people. Had she considered this before buying my contract? Had she considered the effect that living with me under one roof would have on her potential reputation? It had been a risky move on her part. Strange girl.
After she bought my contract, we hadn’t done much but snoop around a few old office buildings before coming to Megaton. She had scarcely picked up anything, and though her pack was full, she hadn't seemed like a scavenger. Not that I had ever thought she was one. She had far too many teeth and her skin was smooth and clear like she’d barely seen the sun. She told everyone we met that she was from a vault, she did this so often and openly it had gotten to the point that I'd grown suspicious it wasn't actually true. She loved using it as a way to open up peoples' boundaries and was careful to not throw the information out in a crowded area, but made no effort to hide it from me. Most people see vaulties as incompetent and innocent- and so they tend to think less about telling her things and trusting her. She knew it at the time I met her and she damn well knows it now.
Her excursions outside of town were far and few. We didn’t leave the confines of the metal walls very often. She didn’t like to venture. On the occasion that we did leave town, the destinations were always specific. Very specific. Very few detours were taken while we were out, if any at all. That suited me just fine. The less danger my employer was in, the better. She’s small, in a boney and narrow sort of way. She hides under baggy shirts and oversized coats but I’ve seen her with less layering to know. And while she's good enough with a gun, she would stand no chance if someone got too close. Our outings were stressful enough, what with her confusing motives and odd inclinations. Being out in the wasteland with her frequently would be a nightmare. I definitely didn't need her getting into trouble that she couldn't get herself out of. I’m glad she’s not that sort of employer. The kind that seems to near suicidally seek out danger and fights for the joy of watching me get them out of it. That gets old fast.
.
Sometimes faint voices could be heard through her door, though I knew damn well no one besides her ever went in or out. I had thought it was her pip-boy for months, blowing it off as the radio or a game. That was, at least, until she left it on the kitchen table one day and the voices still hummed through the door. I could never make out full sentences of it, the volume was too low and the sound was too full of static. That or the years and years of gunshots and explosions had finally done away with my hearing.
A few times I grew nosy enough that I dared come close to her bedroom door- and ballsy enough to tilt my head towards it to try and make out the words. At one point I had been close enough to make out a man’s voice. I had been close enough to hear the girl’s whispers. She had sounded irritated, she had sounded panicked. But always hushed and whispered. Whatever device they were speaking over was set to a low volume… but she was most certainly talking to someone. And someone was talking back to her. And she definitely didn’t want anyone, including me, to hear.
The last time I listened in, I had almost been caught. It was stupid. The conversation, which I could barely make out a few words of, had ended abruptly. There were mere milliseconds between her bedroom door opening and mine closing- carefully- silently. The close call made me feel like a nearly-caught child doing something they ought not to be doing. My heart had pounded in my chest, hard. I couldn’t tell if it was the contract’s effects for nosing in on an employer's business or my own personal awkward embarrassment, if there even was a difference.
She stepped out of her room and paused in front of my door, only for a moment, the faint creak of the floorboards the only evidence that she was there. I only allowed myself to breathe again when I heard her footsteps on the stairs. I convinced myself her stalling was a coincidence and she didn’t hear me listening outside her door. My relief was immense. I haven’t managed to go this long before without pissing off an employer before. She’s the first I’ve been with this long without doing some perceived sin… and then having to atone for it in some, generally unpleasant, way. I in no way look forward to that, regardless of what my sneaking actions might say about me. My own beliefs have turned on me and I’ve become too curious for my well-being. It’s been months and I have yet to see the reason she hired me, the reason she- temporarily - spent a solid fortune on buying my contract. I do little but stay here in this house all day and guard the door.
I sit down and let myself fall back on the mattress. My head hits the pillow- for the first time- and I let out a tired sigh. I think on the voice coming from the other side of the door. The voice that isn't hers. I try to put it out of my mind but it doesn't go away. The ceiling is the same metal as the walls, I can see a few pinholes in the metal above my head where the sky shows through. I close my eyes and accept the momentary darkness.