Escapee ↠ Oswald x Reader
➼ Word Count » 1.3k ➼ Warnings » Mentions of slavery ➼ Genre » Romantic, Hurt/Comfort?
You'd almost forgotten how light your neck felt when the collar wasn't on. Even though you weren't free, you still felt incredibly liberated. Just standing there with no bomb attached to your head reminded you of how it felt to exist before your capture.
You stared silently at the Operator who had taken it off for a moment to check for any malfunctions in the device. They hardly ever took the collars off, and this would most likely be the only moment you'd ever have away from the devilish instrument that kept you locked in captivity. So, you did your best to enjoy it while it lasted.
It'd been so long since you'd felt the wind, that you couldn't help but drift your eyes toward the beaten path it was blowing towards. It led to somewhere in the park and, although you knew it'd be dangerous, the slight chance of freedom felt better than spending the rest of your life as a slave, and your inclination to follow it fueled your mind the longer you stared at it.
For a moment you just sat there, trying to build up the courage to run before they slapped the bomb back around your head. You didn't want to live the rest of your life doing nothing but work and be humiliated, and you'd never get another opportunity like this. So, when the raider wasn't looking, you stood and began sprinting straight down the dusty road.
Your heart rate increased dramatically as the angry shouts and bullets flew past your head, a few of their shots even hitting you, and, if it weren't for the adrenaline that flooded your veins, you were certain the pain would've caused you to hit the ground.
After a minute of chasing you, you noticed they'd all stopped their pursuit catching you.
It didn't matter, though. Those stupidly colorful gates were just in the distance, and you desperately wanted to cross the threshold and get away from them.
You had found it a little odd that they'd given up on you so quickly after your escape, but after spending a few minutes wandering into the kid-ish enclosure, you discovered why.
Your shoulders slumped when you spotted the ferals. The disappointment mixed with the bleeding from the bits of metal lodged into your limbs caused you to faint, and you seemed to accept whatever it was that would come to you.
It wasn't like you had the energy or drive to move any farther than this anyway. You didn't even have a home to go back to.
You hit the ground heavily, the air escaping your lungs as you lay there in the dirt, unable to do anything but pray that you somehow survived the predicament you'd placed yourself in.
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"Hey, kid, wake up."
Your eyes started to flutter open at the voice. You winced when you felt the sharp pain in your leg pulsing throughout your body, but you were grateful that it kept you from falling back asleep again.
Your hand came up to cradle your forehead as you started to sit up. You squinted at your surroundings for a moment, desperate to find spot anything that you could recognize before your gaze met with those of the glowing green man squatting beside you.
You jumped back a bit at the sight. You'd seen a Glowing One a few times before, but never this close, and the ones you'd seen were always feral.
"Where... am I?" You asked, sitting up a bit straighter on the dusty brown couch.
"My old theatre." He responded, his small black pupils searching you for any fear or hostility, but the most he found was confusion. "Are you alright? You're a slave, aren't you?"
"You're not planning on taking me back, are you?" You questioned, bringing your knees up to your chest to try and comfort yourself.
You had to admit, that you were finding yourself a bit overwhelmed at the striking unfamiliarity of your situation. Not only have you never been in a 'theatre', but you also can't recall a time you've ever spoken to a ghoul. Scary.
Your arm brushed the scratchy white bandages that were strictly wrapped around your calf and, as you peered down at it you felt a growing sense of safety. Surely, he wouldn't help you out if he wanted to harm you? Or, at least that's what you hoped.
"No, no, my dear, you're safe here... I don't mean to frighten you."
"I'm sorry," You began, apologetically, "It's nothing against you... I-"
"You're fine." He quickly interrupted, "I understand how you must feel."
He stared at you for a beat longer before ending it off with, "You're welcome to stay for as long as you need. I'll clear out the underground areas for you to leave safely if you decide to go. Just make that decision within the week."
You only nodded, looking curiously around at the posters that littered the walls and the show lights that still seemed to work after all the time that'd passed.
"Yeah... thanks."
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You had shaped the backstage room of King Cola's Court into a comfortable area for you to reside in. Despite the obvious dangers that lurked outside and the knowledge that your captives were just around the corner, you had decided to stay. Stupid, sure, but you liked it here, and you hadn't anyone else to go home to, so you figured you'd make the most out of what you were given.
"Oswald?" You called, stepping hesitantly into the extensive seating area that covered the theatre floors.
You didn't actually know if the ghoul was here or not, you had just made it a habit to ask after all the times he popped up out of the blue and scared you half to death. Not intentionally, you didn't think, but it frightened you nonetheless.
Green smoke flooded your vision as the magician appeared before you, gripping your hands caringly as you coughed.
"What are you doing out here, my dear? You have to be more cautious of my friends, they're drawn to voices."
"I know," You replied, "I wouldn't harm them."
"It's not you harming them that I'm worried about." He mused, snaking his arm around your shoulder as he guided you up toward the stage, still covered in the blinding lights of show biz.
He sighed, sliding a coat over your shoulders and accessories across your body, "Darling, it truly is a shame the former world never got to see you."
You giggled when he spun you, adoring the way the lights bathed and blinded you at the same time.
"Please, you know I don't have the personality for these things."
He shook his head, "Wouldn't have needed it. I knew many people who lived life on the stage without being outgoing."
You hummed in thought as he dipped you down, his arms still secure around your waist, "Maybe backstage."
He let out an amused breath as he pulled you back up, "Perhaps." Was all he said before taking your hands in his and guiding you around the stage again in one of those dramatic old-world dances he seemed to like so much.
You never understood them, let alone got the hang of what to do with your feet, but he had a way of directing that allowed you the freedom to do whatever it was you felt was natural, while he did the actual dance.
Either way, being a clumsy dancer would always be better than the life you used to live in Nuka-Town. One day you hoped to move, or, at the very least, find a way to run the gangs out, but for now, you were happy to reside peacefully in Kiddie Kingdom's Castle.