Fallout: Fury Blood

Chapter 118: No Rest For These Bones

Until then, however, she was shit outta luck to fill in the time. Danse's right hand was warm and strong in hers, fingers that had made sweet, sweet love to her body now limp and lifeless. She kissed each one of them lingeringly, then brought his knuckles up to rest on her lips, drawing comfort from them as her love for him swelled, more and more until it stretched her chest painfully. She couldn't keep this up. It was too much to bear, seeing him like this, ruminating on the afflictions that might be his. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

With a gentle flurry, Kelly let him be and sat to swivel her legs off the bed. She rubbed the knives from their muscles and grimaced through the pain, then stood from the bed, pacing a little in efforts to control her anxiety. She realized she was still staring at him, worrying her bottom lip where she had bitten at a crack and made it bleed. The taste of her blood served to rouse her. I'm coming down from the chems. I need to keep it together. I need to clean myself up, take a hot shower, put some decent clothes on, brush my fucking teeth. Grab a coffee. A real coffee. Oh sweet baby demon, a real fucking coffee!

These simple things were suddenly a luxury. Weeks of roughing it out in the wild had hardened her like nothing before. Even breaking out into the wasteland after first awakening was a slim transition in comparison, at least there had been some semblance of civilization to fall back on in the Commonwealth. And now, being back with the Brotherhood of Steel was like walking into the gates of heaven. Actually, no, scratch that. That was a shitty analogy if it could ever be considered one.

But she couldn't leave Danse. It was too risky; he could go downhill and crash, needing her to call for medical help. Cade would help, she knew he would; or someone might come along and decide to remove his helmet and take a peek at his 'disfiguring burns'. The fallout would be immense. How would Maxson super-sleuth his way out of that one? She would pay her weight in caps to see him try. Though he would find a way of blaming her. Obviously. If she and Danse were to go down, it would have at least been nice to drag Maxson down with them.

Her will swooned, and her with it, slumping back down on the bed beside Danse. He didn't stir. Part of her had expected to find his arms coiling about her to draw her down with him. She was just about to lay back down with him, when a familiar shaved head came bobbing up the stairway nearby. Holding Clay-Crawler's hand was a young Scribe that Kelly recognized by face but not by name. When the raider saw her, his whole face lit up in one of his charming smiles, and she realized how much she had missed it.

She beamed back and stood. "Jig's up. You found me." She wasn't expecting the rush of scrawny arms around her, or the crushing squeeze and little twist side-to-side, and then the manic bobbing up and down as though they were teenage girls reunited after an hour apart. Had he gotten taller, or had she just shrunk? "Oh! Ho-ho-okay!" she wheezed out. "How long have you been waiting to do that?"

"Long time," he admitted as he released her and backed away, still grinning like an idiot. "Feel better now."

"Good," she laughed out, "I kinda missed you too." Her gaze dropped to the young girl. "Who's your friend?"

"Squire Ortega," the girl announced proudly, beating her little chest with a fisted salute. "At your service, Paladin. Uh, I mean... ma'am? Or, civilian? Um..." She bit her lip.

Kelly couldn't help but chuckle. "It's okay, I won't tell. You can just call me Kelly."

"Well... everyone else calls you Harper." She shrugged uncertainly.

"Harper's fine then." Bending, Kelly dipped to the girl's level and offered out her hand, forgetting how dirty it was still. "Nice to meet you, ma'am."

Ortega took it in hers without a care. Her shake was firm and strong, matching the smile dimpling up her cheeks. "Hail, Harper."