Chapter Text
The first thing he thought was that they were in a brand new fresh hell if they were hoping for a Vault Dweller to save them.
The second thing he thought was that those Vault suits did their wearers a serious favour around the rear.
She disappeared onto the roof as Preston poked his head out onto the balcony, and a minute later the resounding crash of Power Armour hitting concrete shook the air. Sturges sucked in a breath. She’d jumped off the damn roof. Sure as hell wasn’t going to hurt her, but still…he hoped the shock absorbers were still good after 200 years.
The sound of the minigun firing repeatedly assuaged his fears. He watched light flare beneath the door as on the other side, Preston gave his new buddy some backup with the laser musket, the almost musical noise of the fusion cell firing alongside the clatter of the minigun. Part of the way through, he heard the roar of a Deathclaw, and the blood drained from his face. The shouts and screams of Raiders joined the noises, and the survivors of Quincy huddled together, shoulders stiff.
It was a long while later that Preston finally came back inside, breathing heavily. Sturges looked at him questioningly, and the Minuteman shot him a look of relief that the mechanic hadn’t seen on his friend since Hollis’ group first showed up in Quincy to protect the town. It left a warm sensation of hope in Sturges’ chest.
The Vault Dweller showed up in the lobby of the museum as they were helping Mama Murphy onto the bench, and after Marcy ran her mouth, the woman in the suit started following them to Sanctuary. She was silent the entire way, until they reached Red Rocket.
“Looks like my home away from home,” Sturges announced as they passed it by.
“You’ll have to share it with Dogmeat,” she suddenly said, and he grinned.
“He’s mighty fine company. Hope he doesn’t mind a lodger.”
“Or two,” she agreed. “I’ll be with you guys in a second.”
He watched her veer away towards the old gas station, and then the faint clank and hiss of power armour being removed. They were heading over the bridge when she re-joined them, flushed from her recent fight. The Vault suit was unzipped a little, exposing more of that dark skin, and Sturges…well, he was a gentleman, sure, but he was a fella too, and the tiny hint of revealed skin was nice to see. He quickly averted his eyes and tried to listen to Preston talking about the history of the place. It wasn’t perfect, sure, but with a bit of fixing up, it could become home. She seemed real familiar with it too.
They built a few beds in the closest houses and spent the night in Sanctuary, a little uncomfortable but protected for the first time in a long while. Sturges woke up and turned over in the middle of the night to see her sitting in the front room of the house opposite, lips absent-mindedly around a bottle of Nuka Cola, and admired the deep red of her lipstick. It looked good on her.
Wait, what the hell had she meant by a lodger ‘or two?’
The feeling of safety kept them sleeping longer than they usually dared, and it was only the sound of heavy objects being shifted that eventually woke them. By the time they’d all swapped around rooms enough to freshen up so that nobody saw each other in places they didn’t wanna, the clattering sound had been replaced by hammering and blowtorches. Sturges found an old tin of coffee in the kitchen, cleaned up a mug as best he could, and wandered out of the house with the hot beverage in hand to see the Vault Dweller crouching on the opposite pavement with her back to them, the strap of a mask circling her head. She was welding metal plates onto her house, scavenged from the three ruined houses he’d noticed the previous evening. A pair of makeshift curtains, cut and stitched from raider longjohns, now covered her bedroom window, and the 111 gleamed golden in the morning sunshine as she slowly fixed the holes.
Sturges’ eyes wandered slowly down her back until he reached the blue of her ass. He calculated the time she’d take to fix the missing plates by the current speed of her work, and as he looked towards the piles of metal plates stacked into neat columns, he realised she’d fetched her power armour from the gas station. It was slumped in the station behind him. And by the position of the sun, it was about 10:30 in the morning. He had to hand it to her, she was an organised girl. Lady.
Woman. Definitely a woman. The way Sturges’ eyes admired the bright cobalt of her rear confirmed as much. He felt like a letch but god, he couldn’t help himself.
The Vaultie – he still didn’t know her name – was done plating up by lunchtime. He tinkered around with small projects to keep him outside, watching her cook radroach on a small pot, constantly fussed around by the Mister Handy that seemed to follow her around. He wondered if the other Vault Dwellers were waiting inside the Vault for her to return. Mama Murphy wandered over and sat down with her. The sound of their chattering reached his ears as he finally located a blowtorch and a welding mask, and started to fix up the house he’d stayed in overnight.
The rest of the day followed the same vein. Sturges and the Vaultie worked around each other, taking spare metal plates to patch up holes. They’d fixed four of the houses by the time darkness fell, including building some rudimentary furniture. The Longs had taken a house for themselves, but they returned for dinner, and the group ate together, exchanging small talk.
“Vault 111,” Preston finally began. “Are there any more of you?”
“Just me,” she said with a sad smile. “The sole survivor of the Vault experiment.”
“Experiment?”
“If the other Vaults are anything like mine, they were designed to…test humanity, I suppose. Ours was the effects of Cryofreeze over long periods of time.”
“Cryofreeze?” Preston repeated, eyes widening. “Wait…how long for?”
“About 210 years,” she replied.
“You’re Pre-War?” Sturges managed, dropping his fork.
“I guess,” she agreed. “If that’s what the bombs were.”
“And you saw the bombs?”
She gestured to her house with a thumb.
“Sure. Got evacuated when the first ones hit the East Coast. They got us into the Vault just as the bomb went off down south.”
“Christ,” Sturges breathed. “So what was it like? Before the bombs?”
“Picture less dirt and shit everywhere,” she said calmly. “And the museum had a floor.”
The mechanic laughed, and her lips twitched into a soft smile. They finished their meal in relative quiet. Preston left to do his rounds whilst Mama Murphy took a nap. Sturges lit up a cigarette and inhaled deeply, watching her drinking her Nuka Cola. The red lipstick was less obvious today – perhaps she’d forgone it. Still, the curve of her lips around the bottle was as interesting now as it had been yesterday.
“You know, I never asked your name,” he finally said, tapping the ash from his cigarette into a nearby ashtray he’d scavenged. Her blue eyes flicked up to his and she smiled. It was that soft one again.
“It’s Nora,” she replied. “Nora Pendleton. And you were…Sturges, right?”
“That’s right,” he agreed. He suddenly caught the flash of gold on her left hand and remembered Old World traditions about marriage involving rings. And then remembered that she’d said she was the only survivor of the Vault.
“You look like you want to ask questions, Sturges,” she murmured.
“And a gentleman don’t pry into places that makes a lady sad,” he told her. Her brows raised. “Wedding ring, but you’re alone. I’m guessing…I’m guessing your fella didn’t make it out the Vault?”
“Somebody killed him,” she said softly. “Some asshole with a giant scar and an itchy trigger finger. They took my baby too.”
“Goddamn,” Sturges swore. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she sighed, and put down the Nuka Cola. “Look, I should…I’m gonna turn in. Still got more houses to fix up tomorrow, right?”
“Jesus, Nora, I’m sorry,” he said again. “I shouldn’t have…”
She stood, and he stood with her, awkwardly fiddling with the belt on his faded coveralls. To his surprise, she reached out and squeezed his shoulder.
“Hey,” she said gently. “It’s okay.”
Still, he felt like an asshole as he watched her leave the house and return to her own residence.