Moon River 2.0
If you prefer to read on ao3 the link is here
Butch had undoubtedly sprained his ankle; the mild caution in his step had given it away. Dedicated to making matters worse, he kept his usually flippant mouth shut about the pulled joint even with Grayditch, by then, miles behind them.Viola deferred his much needed chiding in favor of hammering her fist on the door to her happy place, a dream land where she didn’t have to deal with his screw ups.
Frustrated was too gentle a word to describe her feelings about their predicament. Sure, no one wanted to admit that the first thing they did when they saw a fire ant was shriek then ragdoll fling themselves in the opposite direction—But that was the most common reaction. Those incendiary pests made even the most skilled Wastelanders wet their pants, so a trembling valutie was no surprise. Most people understood that. But Butch? No, not him. Of course not. Most blowhards had a problem admitting to their shortcomings and he was no exception. He was a dummy and thought that his wounded pride mattered in the Waste.
Instead of pressing him for a confession, she opted for the sit back and watch method. If he wanted to suffer in silence like an obstinate little turd, then far be it for her to break her back trying to lend a hand.
With the way his nostrils were flared his breaking point had to be soon.
“Whys the crapshoot settlement got to be so far?”
“Yeah, got to admit—I don’t remember the walk being this long.”
“Map’s probably all wrong. Makes stuff appear to be where it ain’t.”
Viola stopped. Not hearing her steps behind him, Butch followed suit and glanced over his shoulder.
“ If the directions and the destination don’t match then maybe you’re on to something.”
He raised a brow, urging her to go on.
“Maybe Megaton got so sick of hearing you whine about it that it got up and ran.”
Butch gave a hard roll of his eyes and went back to walking, no, shuffling ahead.
“I ain’t got no time for games, girl.”
“Girl, Nosebleed, Poindexter, Wet rag. I love the variety, but I’m sure you know I’ve got a name,” She started walking again and met his pace, “and a gun.”
She’d been threatening him with a bullet ever since she was old enough to traipse the lower parts of the Vault with Sister Beebee. Much like her single barreled friend’s Bbs, the constant shots she and Butch fired at each other could pierce through skin;often times it did. Arguments ended with balled fist and gnashed teeth. He tried to steal her sweet roll so she spat on it. He yanked her hair and called her ugly, so she got a hold of some hair removal product, walked right up to him and poured it all over his head. He ran a rumor about her and Freddie, so she told Wally about all the trips he and Susie took to closets when they thought no one was looking.
The only reason why she hadn’t tried to kill him was because he would try to do her in the moment he saw her coming. Of the little pre-war history she had been taught, she remembered that something called the Nuclear Deterrence Theory followed the same notion. One nation would hold off on blasting another to bits for fear of a full and equal retaliation. Given the fact that they were trekking through radiated rubble, a couple of somebodies screamed “screw that” while pounding on their respective shiny red button. Regardless, her and Butch’s civility with one another had always come down to survival, and that sentiment doubled once they no longer had the Vault’s fortified walls to protect them.
Butch looked as if he was going to say something smart but it came out as a grunt instead.
“I think that thing back there bit my ankle.” He croaked.
“If that were the case you wouldn’t have a leg and I would’ve had no choice but to leave you to die.”
Before he could spit his usual venom, Viola offered him her shoulder to lean on. He seemed startled by it. This wasn’t the first time he’d been injured but it was definitely the first time she’d voluntarily offered to allow him to use her as balance as oppose to him just pressing his weight on her after getting fed up with the tough guy act.
He eventually gave in after she reminded him of the type of mutants that stalked around once the sun set. They made some advancements. And by some that meant none at all. She considered finding a raider camp and telling Butch to hang back while she took care of them. The shot gun was empty so it wouldn't be an easy task. She rarely used her sniper rifle though it would be useless in close quarter combat, plus there was a reason why she didn't use it much.
She had a bat and rusty pipe. Using them in each hand would…
“Hey, Nosebleed?”
“ Whatever it is, shorten it. Trying to figure out where we’re sleeping tonight. ”
“How long did you know about my ankle?”
“You’re an open book, Deloria.” She snorted. “Wide open.”
“Did your old man teach you how to spot stuff like that?”
Viola chewed the inside of her cheek as she eyed the dilapidated overpass ahead of them. No respite.
“Sorry.” He said sheepishly.
"No, you're good."
It wasn't like she hadn't done something similar. During her first day of her little vault rescue mission, she'd asked him about Paul.
The next few minutes of silence was unnerving. She'd rather hear Butch's mouth than to go down the rabbit hole that was her father and the pain he had inadvertently caused those in the vault.
“Why do you ask? You’re not one one to care about my home life unless it’s for ammunition.”
“Just thinking.”
“Quit that will you? The Wastes are as hellish enough as it is without the universe folding in on itself.”
“ Oh ho ho! You’re a real walking stand up show ain’t you? You’ve really missed your calling. Maybe you should drop the guns and plant yourself in the Rudder. That place is rough, they could use a clown.”
If anyone was a clown it was the guy limping the way home.
She peered across the large expense to the left of her. Maybe they would be more likely to find a camp if they veered off the main path.
"I get it. Scarecrow has a brain now and wants to think and be serious."
"What do you think our lives would be like right like if the door never opened?"
Huh.
" The GOAT sorted that out didn’t it? You'd be a hairdresser and I'd be in Vault Management.”
"Barber."
“That’s not what the GOAT said.” She playfully sang.
"Forget that stupid test. If I say I'm a barber then I'm barber." He sounded like he would've shouted that if he had any energy to do so.
"Looks like you’ve got an answer to your half of the question."
"No, wait. I'm not a barber."
"You sound very confused. I’m guessing the great Oz put that brain in backwards or something."
" Forget everything. Act like the door never opened and the GOAT never existed. Where would you be?"
Viola fell into silence again, in search of an answer to his question. With putting nearly all she had into surviving the Wasteland, she only ever had time to think about lost friendships and broken bonds not the normal, ground level what could have beens. Where would she be? Not helping Butch for starters. Also, working with her father as receptionist for his medical office. After that she might have taken a part-time job helping around at the diner. There wasn't much variety in the Vault, and with certain jobs being limited to only one or two people what little options she had dwindled even further.
Butch had taken the reigns of the conversation after she had assigned herself back to searching duty. He gave a response she didn't think she'd hear: An officer.
"Don't go shooting me funny looks," He said, eyeing her as she gave him a sidelong glance.
She decided to leave that as it was, looking for a resting place and holding a serious conversation as he called it proved to be harder than she thought.
Their trek eventually led them to an abandoned campsite. There was blackened wood and a smoky aroma that indicated there was a fire not too long ago, a backpack with some sugar bombs, and canned pork and beans inside, and a note with barely legible scrawl stating to a Ben that a Ricardo, she learned from the closing statement, was going to go ahead to the old scrapyard without him, and that he should eat something before meeting up with him later and that if someone had taken the food before he got there it was his fault for not hurrying. She wouldn't touch the food left for Ben, however, the junkyard peaked her interest. Most of the items would be picked over but Viola discovered a while ago that few Wastelanders knew that if you accumulated enough junk you could earn a decent amount of Caps.
She’d been deciding whether or she should drop Butch off at Megaton and get Dogmeat first, or try to make the quick stop to the Scrapyard before Megaton when Butch started taking dinner out from his backpack. The rotten smell of Yum Yum Deviled Eggs was enough to keep her present.
She picked up the conversation where she left it. “You rebel without a cause types wouldn’t even waste the spit it would take to put a fire out if the thing burning happened to be some type of authority or institution. I doubt you’ve experienced any type of growth since you’ve stumbled out of the Vault.”Her gaze trailed over the length of his frame,taking in the relative newness of the jeans and white Tee he procured from Seagrave, shocked that they weren’t filthy yet. “Imagining you willingly wearing another uniform is enough to induce a fever dream.”
“Says you. I’ve grown plenty,”
“In the ego department, maybe.” She muttered at first then brought her voice back to a level tone.” Is this some type of kink in your psyche? You hate what you secretly desire?”
“You calling me a boot muncher?”
“I’m saying that your sudden judicial interests are suspect.”
“ They’re untouchable. People don’t mess with them. If someone’s stupid enough to push their luck they’ve got three other officers there to back them up.” He managed through half chewed up deviled egg chunks.
She added her own items to their little spread: Muttfriut, Peaches,and Pinto Beans. With his eggs and Sugar bombs they almost had the four basic food groups, albeit the poor man’s version.
“So,” She paused, thinking, “you wanted to be a big man with legal backing, huh? Gives credence to that one saying.”
Notwithstanding the obvious dig, He asked easily, “Yeah? What saying?”
“Bullies seek out positions of authority. Typically, the guys try to be officers and the girls go for nursing jobs. I’m a little surprised you didn’t get that as a result on the GOAT.”
Butch’s lips quirked into a stupid grin. “What’s all that make you miss Vault Managament?”
“ I’m only a partial bully and that’s thanks to you.”
“ Everything’s my fault. Right. I forgot.”
She shrugged. "You said it. Not me."
The conversation lulled as they fell to the rest of their meal. Gingerly holding a piece of Muttfruit under the fading sunlight, Butch shifted from his lazy supine position to a full on crouch and put his nose to it. With that litmus test out the way, he nibbled on it like a molerat, sampling bite after bite, until the full flavor zinged on his tongue. He spat the chewed mush past his puckered lips. Viola had gobbled down her cheekful of sugar bombs to free up space so she could tease but went for a subtle side eye last minute. Leave it to Butch to turn his nose up at something good for him.
“People move for them, you know?” He admitted, jumping back into their intial conversation. More so to not have to take another bite than eager a need to continue their chat.
Narrowing her eyes, she said, “So you fantasize about the badge because you have a naive fantasy about power and control. Is that it? You’re idea of law enforcement and people in leadership explains your past behaviors a bit too well. ”
“Christ, way to miss a point. That ain’t it at all. Security has guns and stuff.”
“Weapons intimidate. Intimation can lead to power or control. Use your head for something besides hair gel for once.
“No, no,no-You brought up the badge, right? That’s it. That’s all it is.”
“I’m still not sure about what ‘it’ is.”
Butch huffed.
“Say I draw pretty picture. Cogs in a circle. A winged sword jabbing through. You’d think..?
“Oh, an inkblot test almost.”
“A what? Quit stalling, Nosebleed.”
“The Brotherhood of Steel. Resourceful. Altruistic. Tech-savvy. A bit frigid when it comes down to the more human side of things. Order, Structure, Chain of command—That’s them. Forming an order and plotting ahead is smart of them. I don’t like their...well, steel but I respe--”
Butches eyes went wide and he pointed. “There.”
Viola chewed on that for a bit. " I think I get you." She said, nodding.
Butch’s expression grew soft for split second but smoothed out and eventually went back to it’s normal wise guy grin.
" How come I'm the only one sharing?"
" I honestly don't know what my answer would be."
" You never wanted nothing?"
She rolled the deviled egg she pilfered before Butch demolished the rest of them between her fingers.
"I remember wanting to do things that would make my father say that my mom would happy."
"And being a receptionist would have done that?"
"It did. He would tell me all the time that she would be happy that I'd taken to the working around the office. I think my mom and my dad valued my safety. That's what made them both happy. But out here safety’s luxury."
"Well, you’re not dead, stiff as a board, but not dead. I’d say you’re doing a good job of keeping yourself safe."
"Not for long. Not with all these curve balls."
They each took their turn taking watch as night fell and passed. Viola made Butch promise to wake her in case something happened and either through guilt or some form of pride he asked her to wake him if she ever got too tired.
A blinding sunlight woke Butch up. Since she’d been out of the vault longer than he had she’d already adjusted to the wastelands rays, and simply took her pair of shades from her backpack and tolerated it on her skin.
"Wish we had something to drink." He said with sleep thick in his voice.
"I brought some purified water from home."
"Something stronger."
"That's not a good idea outside of any settlements," She shot him a withering glare," for you, I personally don’t think that's a good idea at all."
Butch grumbled, "Gimme the water then."
Butch took a three huge, loud gulps.
"I thought of something Mr. Brotch said."
Butch's crumpled his face up like she just told him she spat in his water. "Why?"
"I talked to him after the GOAT. I wasn't happy with my results—“
"—He never told me nothing like that."
"That's because he didn't like you. Look. He told me the whole thing was a joke. And if it is actually is joke, and we we could forgo those results then why not here?"
"What?"
"No one really knows who we are out here. As long as we're not blowing towns up, we can do anything. And if we get bored we can do something else."
"Something tells me the Officer thing is a pipe dream."
“You don’t have to be an Officer. That’s not what you want. Just make some noise and people will associate you with it. I know I do.”
"Yeah, I like that. And you can make your folks happy then."
“Yeah.”
Viola decided to take Butch to Megaton first. They gathered their belongings from around the camp and continued their journey. This time Butch leaned on Viola from the start.
“Hey.” He said a little too quietly.
“Is your ankle bothering you?”
“Nope.”
“What is it then?”
“Would you really have left me behind if I lost a leg?”
She let silence past so he would sweat some.
“No, but I would’ve given you one heck of a nickname.”
For the first time she made him rumble out in that snorting laughter only his friends back in the vault could.
“Nerd.”
* * *
A bit sentimental are ya? You might like my Young Justice(animated) fic, Game Plan, starring Wally West, long roads and glaring insecurity.