Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Gyuvin’s teacher is loud and clear at the front of their cramped classroom. She taps the whiteboard a few times, pointing to the same definition written in five different languages. Her eyebrows are scrunched together and her lips are pulled into a taut line.

“Generalized Occupational Aptitude Test. All of you, as you know, are to take this test when you turn 16. Results determine which job you are best suited for— Vault-Tec regulations.”

Gyuvin sighs and looks down at the paper on his desk, turned blank-side up. He’s 16. He knows the drill— he’s always known the drill. Take the test and become just like his brother, Taerae, an upcoming doctor in the vault. Loved by all, hated by few. Live up to his expectations as The Overseer’s son, never failing in his journey to becoming just as smart and venerated.

He rolls his pencil on the paper, his nerves ramping up. He can do this, he’s taken the practice quizzes. He’s listened to his brother rant on and on about making the right decisions; how to answer empathetically, how to answer like a physician would. He knows what he’s supposed to mark.

“Don’t be nervous, the test is designed to send you exactly where you need to be. It’s fool-proof, you won’t go anywhere your heart doesn’t desire.”

Somehow, Gyuvin doesn’t believe this.

The clock hits noon, and his teacher smacks the whiteboard again. “You have an hour. Take your time.”

With shaky fingers, Gyuvin flips the paper around and stares at the questions crammed onto one page. This is it? He thinks, narrowing his eyes. Taerae prepared him for much more than this, drilling his brain with difficult questions and scenarios to solve. The first question is easy enough.

1.) “You are approached by a frenzied Vault scientist, who yells, “I’m going to put my quantum harmonizer in your photonic resonation chamber!” What’s your response?”

a.) “But doctor, wouldn’t that cause a parabolic destabilization of the fission singularity?”

b.) Yeah? Up yours too, buddy!”

c.) Say nothing, grab a nearby pipe and hit the scientist in the head to knock him out. For all you knew, he was planning to blow up the vault.

d.) Say nothing, but slip away before the scientist can continue his rant.

Gyuvin shakes his head, marking the first option with speed. Stupid, why would he fight a vault scientist? His father taught him better than that.

The second question is just as easy, a scenario describing a patient with a strange infection on his foot. Medicate the area of course, there’s no need for immediate amputation. He stops himself for a moment— would Taerae think that?

Third question. Would he punish a starving, hungry child for stealing food in the vault? Of course not. Who on earth is cruel like that? Gyuvin can think of a few people in his classroom who would choose the ruthless option.

Questions four, five, six, seven, and eight don’t phase him. They’re rooted in violence, of course, that’s how the vault prepares him for reality. He winces at question nine.

9.) “You decide it would be fun to play a prank on your father. You enter his private restroom when no one is looking, and…”

a.) Loosen some bolts on some pipes. When the sink is turned on, the room will flood.

b.) Put a firecracker in the toilet. That’s sure to cause some chaos.

c.) Break into the locked medicine cabinet and replace his high blood pressure medication with sugar pills.

d.) Manipulate the power wattage on his razor, so he’ll get an electric shock next time he shaves.

Gyuvin hates all of the choices. He’d never play a prank on his father— well, he wouldn’t if he was still alive. But he answers to the best of his ability.

He scans over the previous questions with precision, double-checking his answers. Something feels off, but he doesn’t quite understand why. He gets to the final one and a shiver runs down his spine.

10.) “Who is indisputably the most important person in Vault 101: She who shelters us from the harshness of the atomic wasteland, and to whom we owe everything we have, including our lives?”

a.) The Overseer

b.) The Overseer

c.) The Overseer

d.) The Overseer

Gyuvin turns his paper in with ten minutes to spare. He knows he did the best he could, but sometimes that’s not enough in the vault. His teacher gives him a nod of approval, seeing as he’s one of the last students to hand in the test.

An hour later, she announces the results with a bright smile on her face.

“Congratulations to Gyuvin Kim, our new Clinical Test Subject!”

Gyuvin’s heart plummets.

☢️

Vault 134.

Gyuvin has never seen the sun before.

He knows there are other vaults scattered around the wasteland, built by the enigmatic Vault-Tec industries before the bombs fell in 2077. He knows that each one of them has their own environment, their own rules, their own climate, their own collection of like-minded people huddled in an underground haven.

But he knows Vault 134 is particularly special. A vault designed as a melting pot— for individuals of different cultures to be mended together. The goal was to reduce ignorance, and to continue generations of people who respect others that see the world differently from them. An underground globe in harmony— a place endless with knowledge, ready to be released into the wasteland when the world rebuilds itself.

200 years ago, Gyuvin’s ancestors were handpicked from South Korea. A pair of renowned doctors in their field, just as worried about the threat of nuclear war as the rest of the world was. In the worst case scenario, they’d be flown directly into Washington D.C, where Vault 134 was freshly built, promising a flourishing life where no windows could reflect the sky. And that’s exactly what had happened. The cries of anguish had haunted the skies and the bombs would follow right after. They were lucky to get to the vaults when they did.

Gyuvin can speak five languages fluently— Korean, English, Japanese, German, and Russian. He’s conversational in a handful of others, having communicated with nearly every single member of his vault since he was a child. He picked up Japanese after attaching himself to Keita Terazono at a very young age, becoming his best friend after a mere day. Polish is his sixth best language— as his other childhood best friend, a Polish boy named Marcel, had taught him perfect pronunciation.

He isn’t quite sure how his mother came to be The Overseer when he was twelve, but it’s not something he thinks he’ll ever know the answer to. Taerae warned him not to bring up the question, especially because she rose to power months after their father passed away. He could have sworn she was never this cold and calculated before being handed the title. But scrutinizing The Overseer, even as her son, is completely off the table.

When he was 16, Gyuvin was assigned far below where he wanted to be. He thought the G.O.A.T test was full of shit— he’d watched Keita crumble to his knees the moment he was sent to the programming sector instead of the psychology unit. Gyuvin had studied for years under his brother and father, only to be reduced to something akin to a lab rat. Instead of conducting experiments, he was the experiment, suffering all kinds of strange effects on his body for the sake of science. Probed, plucked, pricked, prodded— anything that made the hair on his neck stand up.

“You have such a strong nature of helping others, Gyuvin. This is a perfect job for you,” his teacher had said, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder and assuring him that he was destined for great things. Gyuvin couldn’t believe that the vaults even had a job assignment like this. But Taerae had assured him his father started out on the bottom like this, too.

“Maybe you’ll be one of the chosen ones one day, yeah?” Marcel had said, squeezing his cheeks together. “Maybe they will choose you to send out when you hit 25, like my brother!”

Every year, The Overseer’s council elects an individual over the age of 25 to leave the vault for the purpose of bringing back knowledge and organic samples from The Capital Wasteland. Marcel’s brother had gone when they were both 18, leaving the premises and never returning. Every year after, however, he sent letters to the vault that are read aloud on his birthday. Gyuvin knows that they miss him terribly, but also knows that once someone leaves the vault, there’s an unspoken rule that you might not ever be let back in.

The wasteland is a dangerous place.

While pre-war kids had myths and legends, post-war kids have the wasteland. The barren, empty, lawless land teeming with feral ghouls and all kinds of irradiated animals. Gyuvin’s dealt with things like Radroaches before, giant and disgusting cockroaches that have mutated into vile beings. They tear up the janitor’s unit when it gets too hot in the walls and jump at the kids when adults are not around. Gyuvin knows there are plenty more to be found on the land directly above him.

Once upon a time, there had been a glorious capital. A prosperous, bustling place with promising young adults and incredible advancements in science. Washington D.C had been a lovely place to live— and a lovely place to build a series of underground vaults in case the bombs rendered the environment useless.

Vault-Tec, the company responsible for the vaults, had created these safe-havens to send viable citizens to survive. They had essentially saved the human race, building them all around the globe and promising individuals that their livelihood would continue for generations after the war. He’s thankful for Vault-Tec, every vault dweller is.

Gyuvin isn’t sure how many generations have survived underground, considering there are 133 other vaults he has never seen.

His teachers assure him that they’re all healthy and reproducing, just with different rules and regulations. They’re not all like his, however. Some vaults are just American, some are just women, some are just men, and some are just mysteries. Gyuvin has never understood why.

“Hyung, are we the special ones? Why aren’t the others like us?” He had asked his brother one day.

Taerae had deeply sighed and affectionately ruffled Gyuvin’s hair. “Because we have the resources, Gyuvinnie.”

“But where are the other ones?”

“Scattered around the wasteland.”

“Why haven’t we made contact with them?”

“What makes you think we haven’t already?” He grinned, slightly ominous.

Despite his goofy and fun-loving nature, there was always a strange and unfamiliar air around Taerae. Mysterious and a little bit bizarre, elfish and charming in particularly unsettling ways. He was a good man, Gyuvin knew this much was true. But he’d always suspected Taerae to be harboring secrets that the council entrusted him with, given his advancements in medicine at such a young age. But this didn’t change the fact that Gyuvin trusted him with his life.

There are many things to be grateful for in the vaults.

Gyuvin has knowledge that wastelanders would not ever dream of. He has a healthy body, a sound mind, a loving brother, and two wonderful friends. He gets to celebrate other cultures and carry on traditions that have burned out on land and help science move forward.

He has everything he needs.

Except for the sun.

☢️

Someone is violently shaking him awake.

Gyuvin knows the vault emergency sounds very well, he’s gone through every drill imaginable since he was in diapers. The flashing red lights, the robotic panicked voice, the auto-locking of every sector and unit except The Overseer’s. He’s half sure it is a drill, gently pushing away whoever keeps pulling the covers off his body. It’s not like it hasn’t happened before.

“Gyuvin!” The voice says in a hushed whisper.

“Gyuvinnie, please,” the second voice says even louder.

Gyuvin’s eyes snap open once he realizes Marcel and Keita are hovering over him with wide-eyes, their faces covered in sweat. Marcel looks behind him in a hurry, watching as the door to Gyuvin’s room still hasn’t closed shut. The robotic voice from above them rings out again.

“All vault citizens. Please stay calm. All vault citizens. Please stay calm.”

Keita curses in Japanese, throwing hands over his ears to block out the horrific sound. Gyuvin nearly topples over his friends as he stumbles out of bed.

“What is going on?!”

His friends look at each other in horror before looking back at Gyuvin.

“Someone overrode the vault codes.”

“So?!”

“Someone opened the vault, Gyuvin.”

Gyuvin’s chest heaves up and down as the anxiety rushes through his veins. “Why is that our problem?”

“Because it was your brother, Gyuvin. Your brother opened the vault.”

Unimaginable terror racks through Gyuvin’s mind. His face goes pale white as his friends allow him to digest the information, each grabbing his hand. There’s immediate nausea that nearly takes him out cold, his body stumbling towards the ground before Keita can catch him. He collapses to his knees and watches as little black spots cloud his vision.

Taerae? This doesn’t make sense, he thinks.

“He overrode the system over 24 hours ago, Gyuvin. He’s been gone for a full day. We have no idea how he knocked it out like that or how nobody saw it happen,” Marcel speaks slowly, sinking down next to his best friend. “We don’t know why he left or where he went.”

“B-but…” Gyuvin chokes on his own tears, falling against Marcel’s chest. “We let people out every year, why is this an emergency?”

“Nobody goes out on their own, Gyuvin. They’re voted out.”

“Gyuvin,” Keita says very slowly, “your brother illegally broke out of the vault, and we have no idea why.”

There’s a scream of terror that Gyuvin doesn’t realize is coming from himself.

He doesn’t remember blacking out.

☢️

Gyuvin hates the familiar expression of grave disappointment plastered on his mother’s face.

The Overseer stands on the balcony of the third level, her arms crossed over her chest, the Pip-Boy on her wrist flashing wildly in the dim lighting. Her sharp cheekbones are illuminated by the artificial light pouring in from the organic laboratory behind her, presenting her in a ghoulish way. She doesn’t look like his mother. She looks irradiated.

“There was a breach of code today,” she starts slowly in her native language, “leaving the vault without a vote is illegal, as you all know.” Her face twists with disdain. She’s humiliated. Her own son humiliated her. She repeats the same sentence in a myriad of different languages, though a fraction of the vault can understand all of them.

She remains rigid on the balcony, her hands gripping the railing so tight her knuckles go white. Gyuvin is still nauseous, holding onto his friends for dear life. Keita runs a comforting hand through his hair while Marcel’s eyes remain on The Overseer’s. There are two vault-keepers at her side with pistols tucked in their jumpsuits. Gyuvin tears his eyes away from them.

“Consequences will arise from this,” she starts again. “Curfew will be 8 pm from now on. Control room is off limits, even for programming students. You’ll need a chaperone to step foot in there.”

There’s a chorus of frustrated noises coming from all corners of the vault. None of this matters to Gyuvin. What matters is his brother. Are they not going to retrieve him?

“As for my son.” The Overseer takes a deep breath before fixing her eyes on the crowd. “He will not be allowed back into this facility. Ever.”

Gyuvin’s knees buckle the moment the sentence leaves his mother’s lips. She catches his eye as he breaks down, caught only by his friends’ grip. There’s an unreadable expression on her face, one that completely solidifies the fact that his mother is no longer his mother. He sobs again, hands splayed out on the dirty concrete floor as hushed whispers reverberate around him.

“We cannot do anything about his disappearance. As he is no longer one of us. Kim Taerae’s name will not be spoken in this vault any further.”

“She doesn’t care,” Gyuvin whispers under his breath, holding back his wails. “She doesn’t care that it’s her son. She doesn’t care that it’s my brother. She…” he looks up towards the balcony, eyes glassy with detestation, “she doesn’t care about anything but power.”

Keita doesn’t have the strength to stop Gyuvin from ripping free of his grasp. The fury that cradles his heart is enough to set the entire vault on fire. He pushes through a group of vault dwellers until he’s standing directly below his own mother.

“You…” he shouts. “It should have been you instead of dad.”

☢️

His fingers shake.

He told Keita he wasn’t going to do it— but only after the Japanese boy had begged on his knees for him to change his mind. Gyuvin loves him, but nothing is going to keep him away from finding the only person still left in his family.

Taerae didn’t even leave a note. Not a clue, not an apology, not a word. Somehow, this hurts more than him leaving at all.

He fumbles with the lever to the door, fighting his nerves with anxiety pumping through his veins. It’s midnight, and he’s snuck into his mother’s study to find the control room key. He knows where it is— his father used to keep the Yutnori sticks in the same drawer. The memory makes him wince for a minute, recalling the happy moments in which he’d share traditions with the rest of his vault. He pushes the thoughts away and dives for the correct drawer.

It’s not there.

He curses under his breath and whips around, eyes trailing over the tiny room with precision. His mother must have moved the keys somewhere safer, considering Taerae probably knew where they were, too.

He quietly opens the rest of the drawers, gently pushing away the junk items and random sticky notes strewn about. None of them contain the key. Gyuvin’s stomach drops, realizing that it’s possible the key could now be in The Overseer’s room instead. He’d rather die than risk sneaking into his mother’s bedroom. Her study is one thing, but the bedroom is far off limits. It has to be in here or he risks never seeing his brother again.

The back wall of the room is lined with a series of computer terminals, all pre-war technology with softly glowing screens. Trying to bypass any passwords would be ridiculously difficult, considering he has zero experience with programming. Besides, his mother isn’t one to record where she hides a key.

He empties the drawers under the terminals in a quiet manner, cursing under his breath every time he pulls out a piece of junk instead of what he’s looking for. He ignores the amount of photos of his late father crammed into an unassuming corner and pushes away his mother’s robotic to-do lists. The silver key is nowhere to be found.

Defeated, he leans back and presses himself against the door.

What would he get out of a life without Taerae? Without being a doctor? Without being anything but a subject? Without a mother who loves him?

He’s ready to push the door open and return to his room when the first-aid kit across the wall catches his eye. It’s standard— every room in the vault has a first-aid kit complete with stimpaks, antiseptic spray, bandages, and RadAway. He’s only had to open one once, when Keita fell off a table during elementary school attempting to show off. Something compels him to move close to the kit, weary of the small sounds his feet make against the concrete.

He runs his hands over the rusted kit and gently pries it open, swearing when the contents nearly spill onto the floor. He sharply inhales when he locks eyes on Jet, an addictive chem consumed in the same way an asthma inhaler is. One of the first commodities during the post-war— created by extracting the fumes given off by Brahmin fecal matter. The idea of his mother having a drug addiction isn’t shocking, but it would explain a few things. He shakes away the full-body chill and gently places the chem on the counter beside him.

Without registering where it's coming from, something familiar clatters to the floor. Cringing at the sound, Gyuvin drops to his knees and grabs at the key that had been hiding deep inside the kit. He steadies his breathing and gently rises from the ground, his eyes worriedly looking out the small window in case anyone had heard something. He sees no one, and packs the medical supplies into his small bag. He closes the first-aid kit and does his best to make it look like it was never touched.

Now, the control room.

He thinks about leaving his mother a message. He thinks about going back to take Keita and Marcel with him. But either of those things would pose a threat to them. He knows that in his heart, he will see them again one day.

It doesn’t take long to make his way across the vault, knowing he could walk the entire expanse with his eyes closed and his fingers dragging against the walls. Before the rules were so strict, the kids were allowed free reign. The control room wasn’t somewhere off limits like it is now, and he’s seen every inch of it. The tunnel leading to the vault entrance was his favorite hiding place as a child. And now, he’s going to finally see past it.

The hinges on the door moan in complaint as he pushes it open. Green, glowing lights plastered everywhere with low frequencies humming in every corner. The room is off limits at midnight, not a single programmer permitted to be in there after curfew. It’s sacred in some ways, a reminder of the privilege vault dwellers have to be locked away from the cruel wasteland.

With his heart in his throat, Gyuvin approaches the terminal closest to the vault door. He bites his lip, praying to god there isn’t a password required to get past the main screen. He could break it if he had to, but it would likely take him ten different tries. He’d watched Keita do it for fun when they were kids, softly giggling as he pissed off vault chemists and programmers. But he doesn’t have time for goofing around.

The computer lights up, making his eyes ache. He sucks in another sharp breath, fear striking his heart as he realizes the terminal does in fact require a password. He racks his brain and recalls the moments Keita would drag him through a lecture of “hacking 101.” If you can get to a particular second screen, then you’ll be able to play a guessing game of randomized words, he thinks, repeating Keita’s instructions.. He knows what gets him there. With hope, Gyuvin presses a series of buttons on the keyboard and watches as the screen flashes before him. A smile tugs at his lips.

The letters stare back at him: ROBCO INDUSTRIES (™) TERMLINK PROTOCOL

Below, there’s two columns of numbers and icons intermixed with a series of full, random words. Each word is the same length, all six letters each. His brows furrow, recognizing that it’s an average-level lock. Ironic, for an underground vault not meant to let anyone out.

He hovers over a random word. MUTATE. He hesitantly clicks on it.

PASSWORD REQUIRED:

ATTEMPTS REMAINING: . . .

> MUTATE

> Entry Denied

> Likeness = 1

Gyuvin narrows his eyes, understanding that the password has to contain at least one of the same letters as mutate— but in the same place. He hovers over the words again, slowly reading in-between the confusing mess of numbers. There’s an audible noise that comes from outside the control room, causing him to drop to his knees under the terminal desk. People are talking near the doors, their muffled voices instilling pure terror in Gyuvin’s heart. The voices get louder for a fleeting minute before they continue down the hall. Gyuvin grips his chest and takes a deep breath, forcing himself back up.

He hits another word.

PASSWORD REQUIRED:

ATTEMPTS REMAINING: . .

> DUBBED

> Entry Denied

> Likeness = 1

He curses again, hating that all he can do is guess.

PASSWORD REQUIRED:

ATTEMPTS REMAINING: .

> FORMAT

> Entry Denied

> Likeness = 2

A shudder goes down Gyuvin’s spine. One more try, and an alarm will likely sound. He can try again after that, if The Overseer doesn’t get to him first.

He takes a shaky breath and reviews his options, brain working faster than normal. He forces the cogs to turn and uses every bit of knowledge the vault has filled his brain with. Then he clicks.

> RUGRAT

> Entry Approved

> Likeness = 6

The computer makes a low, positive chiming noise. He nearly breaks down in tears.

ROBCO INDUSTRIES UNIFIED OPERATING SYSTEM

COPYRIGHT 2075 - 2077 ROBO INDUSTRIES

SERVER 6 -

WELCOME, OVERSEER

> VIEW SECURITY DOSSIERS

> VIEW SCOUTING REPORTS

> VAULT-TEC INSTRUCTIONS

> OPEN OVERSEER’S TUNNEL

With speed, Gyuvin clicks on the last option and watches as the screen flashes again.

> OPENING …

Gyuvin jumps back the moment the tunnel begins to creak open, the loud metal violently scraping at his ears. He looks back at the door in horror, realizing the sound will no doubt alert vault security. The alarms begin, hailing from directly above him and from each of the terminals, deafening and high-pitched. He dives for the tunnel the moment he hears screaming from down the hall, slipping through the entrance before it can open entirely.

Someone bursts through the control room just as he reaches the final door, one that leads directly to the room where the vault entrance is ultimately located. He yanks it open and stumbles into a more pristine-looking control room, one with a large lever directly in front of the behemoth vault door. He takes one look behind him, eyes wide with horror as the vault security chases after him with a series of electric police batons. He squeezes his eyes shut and yanks the lever back, releasing yet another round of blaring alarms. He wished he was more like Taerae, who had dismantled the alarms before they could even know what was going on.

The vault door begins to crack open slowly but surely, the massive gear-like door rolling to the right, clearly not used to being used. Before he can taste freedom, there’s a sickening crack to the side of his shoulder, one that causes him to tumble face-first onto the cold metal railing. He doesn’t register that he’s been hit until another security officer pounces right on top of him, forcing his arms down onto the uncomfortable floor. Gyuvin screams out in protest, demanding to see his mother but it’s no use, the vault security don’t see him as anything other than a traitor.

Another hit— this time to his temple, probably in an attempt to knock him unconscious. He finds himself dizzy for a few seconds before pushing the officer straight off his body with a surge of adrenaline. The other security guard pins him down again, forcing his legs to stay sutured together. With anger, Gyuvin presses two fingers into the guard’s subclavius pressure point, causing him to scream in pain and stumble backwards. He scrambles to his feet, nearly making it to the exit before someone catches his collar and yanks him back, eliciting a choked gag.

But as soon as he clambers back to the floor, the perpetrator loses his grasp. A familiar voice rings out in his ears as his head pounds.

“Gyuvin!” It’s Keita, five steps away from Marcel. There’s a glossy-look in his eyes, sadness mixed with desperation and a deep understanding. “Just promise me you’ll come back,” he pants, his tone dripping with defeat. “Please.”

There’s a moment of silence before he’s throwing Gyuvin a police baton, kicking the security guard onto the floor right after. His friends are outnumbered, more security pouring in from the doors.

“Gyuvin!” Marcel calls in Polish before latching onto Keita’s arm and dragging him back into the vault, panic laced within his tone. Tears streak down his face as his eyes linger on the exit. “Kocham cię!”

Gyuvin isn’t able to make his promise or say that he loves them back. Instead, a gut-wrenching cry erupts from his throat as he watches a fifth security guard forcefully grab both his best friends by the neck, squeezing with vehemence. He’s nearly dashing to help them before someone appears in front of him, raising a pistol to his chest. In a split second, Gyuvin screams again and darts through the vault door, rushing by the cave-like tunnel to a sickly wooden door at the end. He barely misses the first round of bullets on his way there.

There’s a strange light pouring in through the cracks, burning his eyes so badly he nearly goes blind.

He ignores the pain and pushes through, falling onto something unfamiliar, something soft, something human.

The sun— in all its glory, bears down on him.

☢️

It burns.

He knew this. He also knows that the rest of them will not dare follow him out. Stepping past the wooden door is a sentence to death and a life-long declaration of war against the people that raised him.

His shoes sink into something uncomfortably mushy and unidentifiable, making bile rise in his throat. Gyuvin looks down to see a substance that doesn’t look organic, melting into the ground below in a nauseating way. The geiger counter within his Pip-Boy screams, causing him to jump. To the right of him, there are large barrels of radioactive waste spilling over. Gyuvin realizes far too late that it’s what he’s stepping on. Too much radiation and he’ll be sicker than a dog. He quickly hops out of it.

There are rows and rows of a particular flower he cannot identify. Botany was never something he was interested in, knowing he’d never be able to step foot outside. The crops they grew in the vault were all genetically modified and created by man. The black flowers are much larger than he knows they should be, curling around the horrific barrels and up the side of the wooden entrance to the vault. In his jumpsuit, the peculiar heat of the sun begins to seep deep into his bones.

He’s equipped with nothing but the police baton and his trusty Pip-Boy, knowing that it’s all he has to keep him alive. His Pip-Boy will map out the environment the farther he goes, intricately designed by the great minds that came before him. He can mark anything relevant he finds and return to it later if he needs to. He can track his radiation levels, his limb conditions, his navigation, and note what items he has stored. It rests comfortably on his wrist, not too heavy, not too light. After years of wearing it, he doesn’t feel it anymore. Vault-Tec’s gift to the vault dwellers.

He makes his way past the side of what looks to be a mountain, his eyes widening at the expanse of dirt and weeds beneath his feet. He drops to his knees for a moment, gathering a handful of dirt in his hands and letting it fall through his fingers. The warmth stuns him before he remembers that a sun exists in the sky. He looks up and sees things that he’s only seen in worn textbooks— destroyed houses, crumbling bridges, rusted signs, and cratered roads. The wasteland, real and physical.

He tells himself he’ll walk until he finds any sort of civilization, trusting that there has to be something out there. The Overseers had always stressed that nothing existed outside the vaults, and that the future generations of humans had to come directly from underground. Like always, Gyuvin doesn’t believe this for a minute. But the brainwashing has a tight grip on his brain.

He walks through a series of crumbled houses, gingerly climbing inside each one to scavenge for anything useful. There are remnants of toys, pre-war clothing, pre-war money, and empty bottles of Nuka-Cola — the most popular and influential soda the year the bombs dropped. He doesn’t find much that he can use, but he keeps searching, anyway. He notes that there’s a strange smell in the air, something musty and likely not good for his lungs. It distracts him from the urge he has to cry with every step he takes, relaying the image of his best friends fighting for their lives right in front of him. He wonders what his mother will do to them, and prays to god they won’t be punished for what they’ve done.

There’s a large building in the distance, boasting a giant red rocket that’s almost comical. He freezes in his steps before he realizes it’s just as abandoned as everything else around him. He slowly continues onwards, sneaking his way over. He reads the sign again, realizing that it’s a pre-war gas station. He’s heard of cars before, and how they were the number one mode of transportation. Corvegas, Fusion Fleas, Zips, and Cherry Bombs. They were colorful and reminiscent of happier times, showy and symbols of wealth. He makes his way into the gas station and once again scavenges for supplies.

With a sigh of relief, Gyuvin stumbles across a first-aid kit on the wall, complete with a couple of stimpaks and a can of Mentats. He hurriedly shoves them into his pockets and whips around behind him, terrified that something will appear to kill him. He leaves the gas station with nothing tailing him, providing motivation to keep moving along the cracked roads.

Hours pass, and Gyuvin finds himself less and less hopeful of finding anything. Maybe The Overseers were right, maybe he is the only person wandering the wasteland, exiled from his own home. Maybe the only thing left are the feral ghouls and violent mutated animals out to tear his throat apart. But the thought scares him half to death, so he keeps moving onwards.

The sky begins to fall dark, and Gyuvin is blinded by yet another light— the moon. It’s prettier than the sun and easier to look at, not searing his eyes and making him sweat all over. He pauses for a moment and relishes in the cool breeze that pushes his bangs around. For a few seconds, he doesn’t regret ever leaving the vault. Though it had been his home, vault 134 was stuffy with unstable temperatures constantly waking him up throughout the night. The heaters would often fail and air conditioning in the recreational rooms would blow out every so often. The outside air feels refreshing on his skin, even if the residual radiation makes its way into his body.

He’s ready to move on before there’s a scuttling noise behind him, snapping him out of the trance. Gyuvin equips his police baton and swings it wildly around his body, terrified that something has already snuck up behind him. Something jumps at him from afar, biting fangs ready to devour his thighs in one go. His panic is calmed, however, when he realizes that it's just a Radroach. With one swift swing, he knocks the vile creature onto its back and delivers a final blow. Gyuvin has killed his fair share of Radroaches before, but he can’t guarantee defending himself from anything bigger in the future.

He only has a few seconds of thinking he’s safe before there’s a petrifying roar in the distance, the sounds of something anything but human racing towards him. It’s coming from all directions, the guttural sounds nothing short of what haunts his nightmares. Panicked, he spins around and readies himself to swing again, his other hand wrapping around a stimpak. Then he sees the first one, barreling towards him.

Ghouls.

They’re ugly, rotting humanoids with inhuman strength. Their eyes glow and their bodies are a mix of bones and mutilated flesh, barely attached to each other. Some still wear clothing, torn in all kinds of places. And some are simply all bones. Once upon a time, they had been human.

The first one lands a painful swipe on his shoulder, causing him to cry out in pain. He takes it out as soon as it attacks him and watches as it flies into the one behind him. There’s another at his back, delivering another painful blow to his shoulder blades. He swings at that one, too, watching as it falls to the ground and groans in protest. He darts up the road, acutely aware that there are three left on his tail, running much faster than he is. He screams and attempts to take two of them out at the same time, the bat ricocheting off the first ghoul and onto the other. It takes one of them out, but the other bounces up in record time, lashing violently at his face. Something warm trickles down his cheek but he vehemently ignores it, the adrenaline pumping through his veins. He swings again, cracking the ghoul’s legs and watching it collapse to the ground. The final ghoul glances at his dead counterparts and growls impossibly loud, tackling Gyuvin to the floor as to take revenge for murdering his friends. He lands a horrific bite into Gyuvin’s neck, a strained cry spilling from his lips. With all his strength, Gyuvin shoves the ghoul off and swings the bat a final time.

Silence.

He can hear the blood pumping through his heart, his shoulders heaving up and down. He’s hurt in many places, he knows this, but also knows that if he doesn’t move on, he runs the risk of being attacked once again. Sure, he’s been trained to fight. But nothing could ever prepare him for the mob of inhumane beings. The injury on his neck burns every time a breeze flows past him. Just moments ago, it had been a lovely feeling on his skin. And now, he cries out in pain every time his bangs are pushed about.

He considers crawling, or curling up inside a broken home to succumb to his wounds. They’d never find him there, all hurt and weak. Maybe in a hundred years or so when people begin to rebuild and find hope again. Maybe they’ll stumble across his skeleton and wonder what had taken him to the grave. Or maybe they won’t wonder at all— reducing him to an unfortunate statistic. But he can’t die like this, not with the memory of his friends sacrificing themselves and the threat of never seeing his brother again. Gyuvin, against every screaming muscle in his body, continues on down the road.

When the sun begins to set in the sky, something blurry appears in the distance. He could be hallucinating, wondering if a feral ghoul bite will turn him into a horrific creature or poison him until he dies a slow and painful death. But as he moves closer, he can see that it’s a large fence, seemingly keeping something safe inside. The closer he gets, the clearer he can see.

There’s a gate at the front, with two individuals standing at either side. Gyuvin gasps and stumbles back, shocked by the presence of real humans before him. His exasperation catches their attention, causing them to immediately raise their rifles. Gyuvin falls to the ground and shakes his head, putting his hands up in defense.

The two guards exchange confused glances between each other. Upon realizing that he’s severely injured, they cautiously make their way towards Gyuvin’s failing body. They’re only inches away when Gyuvin finds himself succumbing to the darkness, whispering desperate cries of help.

☢️

When he wakes up this time, it’s not to the blaring sound of alarms around him.

There’s a comfortable bedding beneath him and a fan that blows against his face, cooling down his heated forehead. He groans and gently lifts his limbs, feeling the cushioning of gauze around his injured areas. He’s sore, but it’s nothing like the pain of being bitten by a ghoul. He’s ready to fall back asleep when the sound of a door wakes him back up.

“Oop— Doc, he’s awake!” A shockingly peppy voice says. Upon entering the room, a woman with reddish hair gives Gyuvin an impossibly wide smile.

“Hi there!” She says in a chipper voice. “My name is Moira Brown! I own CraterSide Supply here in Megaton! And boy, aren’t ya glad we caught you before you bled out!” The contrast between her words and tone is giving Gyuvin whiplash. He doesn’t have time to respond before the woman is rapidly speaking again. “You were in real bad shape before the guards took you in. What was it? Mirelurks? Ghouls? Centaurs? Super Mutants?”

Gyuvin’s eyes widen at the mention of other unfamiliar creatures. He chokes out, “ghouls.”

She claps her hands together. “Oh boy, those’ll get ya! I’m glad Doc got to you in time. You poor thing, what on earth were you doing out there with no armor?” She looks down to Gyuvin’s jumpsuit and gasps. “That’s right! Doc said ya were wearing a vault suit. Where’d ya get something like that? Let alone that Pip-Boy!”

Gyuvin clears his throat and tries to put himself together. “I-I’m from a vault.”

Moira laughs, seemingly in disbelief. “There aren’t no vaults left— well, at least with living members,” she says, her brows furrowed in confusion. The statement fills Gyuvin with both dread and confusion, but he pushes it aside.

“You’re wrong, Moira,” another voice says from afar. A man with white hair and brown skin waltzes into the room with a lab coat on. His smile is gentle, a curious sense of safety billowing around him. Gyuvin’s nerves relax, sensing the friendliness. “Those folks from New Vegas got a real vault, don’t they? Vault 21? And what about 101? Haven’t we had travelers from there, too?”

Moira playfully rolls her eyes. “21 was turned into a hotel. And 101…well…the last lone wanderer couldn’t give us much hope. But I’ve never seen…” she gently ushers Gyuvin to lean up before scanning over the large numbers printed on the back of his jumpsuit. “Vault 134?”

“Doc Church, you ever hear of a vault 134?”

The doctor shakes his head. “I oughta believe he’s genuine, from the way he was traveling with so little.” He gives Gyuvin a look. “What’s your name, son?”

Gyuvin croaks out his name and lets his legs hang from off the bed. He feels infinitely better already, assuming that the Doc pumped him full of stimpaks. Doc Church gives him a smile and hands him a bottle of water.

“Get hydrated. You’ll be fine in a few hours but for now, you need strength.”

“And you better start talking, young man,” Moira says, though it’s not threatening.

Moira Brown positions herself on a chair facing Gyuvin, her arms crossed. She squints at him, scanning him up and down. “How old are ya?”

“21.”

She grins. “I’m not that much older than ya. 24 to be exact. Maybe a little young to be runnin’ a store, but you do what you can to survive around here.”

Gyuvin manages to ask her a question. “Where…am I?”

“Oh boy, maybe you are a real vault dweller! You never heard of Megaton?”

He shakes his head.

“Finest place for trading and er…perfect for the curious worshipers down by the bomb. If you’re real ancient like some of the ghouls, you’d refer to this place as ‘Virginia’. But we all know the old world is dead and gone.”

Gyuvin blinks, understanding none of what she said. Moira claps her hands again and giggles.

“Metagon is called Megaton because of the giant, undetonated bomb in the center of town. It’s harmless for the most part, nobody knows how to set it off, anyway. It’s our landmark and place of worship for the Children of Atom. Just a group of kookie fellas that believe the bombs falling was the birth of a new nation. They don’t bother no one, though.”

Gyuvin slowly shakes his head. “And…what do you mean by…the ghouls?” He thinks back to the ones that nearly killed him, horrified that their presence may curse the town.

“Oh! You mean the old ghouls? Well, ghouls that haven’t gone feral are just like us! Instead of being killed by the bombs, they went through something the docs now refer to as ‘ghoulification.’ Shameful process, must be awful living for so long and hated by everyone.”

Gyuvin does his best to take all the information in. Megaton. Children of Atom. Passive ghouls. Ghoulification? The vault never taught him any of this.

“What…did you mean earlier when you mentioned the vaults?”

Moira’s face falls. She puts a comforting hand on Gyuvin’s shoulder. “That awful Vault-Tec…tricking poor people into thinking they were doin’ something mighty for humanity. My dear, I don’t think it would benefit to tell you all this now— I might send you into another coma.”

Gyuvin ignores the warning. “What…did they do?”

The doubts that swirl around Gyuvin’s mind come close to suffocating him. Vault-Tec had never been spoken of in a negative light back in the vault. If you even whispered a complaint, The Overseer would have you punished within seconds. After all, Vault-Tec is the company that led their generations into safety.

“Oh dear…all kinds of things. I wonder what they were doin’ to you all in vault 134…but I’m not sure if you’d know the answer to that question, either.” She shakes her head and changes the topic before Gyuvin can interrogate her further. “Whad’ya say we head on over to the bar? Get you something more refreshing? Might help you recover. The bar owner’s a real nice fella— handsome, too. Younger than most of the town, but smarter than the lot of us.”

Gyuvin slowly nods and lets Moira help him slide off the bed. Doc comes by for a final time and hands Gyuvin a lightly armored outfit, complete with spikes on the shoulders and an optional helmet.

“Light raider armor. It’ll do you better than that jumpsuit.”

Gyuvin thanks the man before immediately changing into the armor. It’s uncomfortable, but definitely safer. In minutes, he’s following Moira out the infirmary.

It’s strange, the way the town is built. There are large, rusted walls all around him and a collection of ragtag houses built on the ground floor all the way to the top of the protected walls. He’s never seen a settlement before, let alone one with a giant and terrifying bomb at the very center. He looks over it for a minute, watching as a group of adults congregate around it, wildly waving their hands in the air as if God himself stands in the center. He can’t quite catch what they’re saying, but it’s similar to the worship he read in his textbooks. He shivers, wondering how anyone could worship the very thing that destroyed the earth.

He gets a few looks as they make their way across town, but Gyuvin figures more people would be staring if he still had his jumpsuit on. He’s shocked by the amount of people that crowd around the houses, a mix of traders and vendors milling about. The vault was wrong— people can rebuild, and they can survive.

Moira reaches a building with a large sign that reads, “Rose Quartz” on the front. It’s tacky and nearly falling apart, but it’s one of the bigger edifices in the area. She gives him a nod and leads him inside.

It’s not much different from the infirmary, full of worn chairs and peeling wallpaper and all kinds of curious people about. There’s a large bar on the right side, boasting all sorts of colorful liquor and food he doesn’t recognize. Moira makes her way over to the empty bar and hops onto a chair, loudly whistling.

“I know damn well someone is supposed to be here,” she says, though there’s a giggle at the end. “Ricky, I know you’re in the back. Come out, we gotta curious fella I want you to meet.” She impatiently taps her fingers on the bar.

Gyuvin isn’t sure who he’s expecting to come out from behind the bar. It surely isn’t a tall man dressed in all black, a stark difference from the rest of the people that sit at the tables around them. Black hair styled neatly, sharp eyes, perfectly sculpted features. Gyuvin contains the gasp that almost leaves from his lips— shocked by the man’s old world beauty. He doesn’t look like a wastelander, he looks like someone that belongs on the cover of a Nuka-Cola poster.

“Pretty, ain’t he?” Moira whispers in Gyuvin’s ear. “Makes a killer atomic cocktail, too. I wouldn’t expect anything less from a New Vegas native.” She turns her attention away from Gyuvin and onto the bartender. “This vault kid is a real catch, Ricky.”

“Good morning, Moira,” Ricky says, annoyed. Even his voice is smooth and easy on the ears, a little husky and low. Gyuvin doesn’t have the gall to say anything just yet. Ricky gives Gyuvin a look, trailing his eyes up and down his body. It’s calculating and cold, the complete opposite of the two people Gyuvin has just met.

“Where’d he come from?” Ricky says, grabbing a class and flipping it around before beginning to make a cocktail, finger sleek and long. “He doesn’t even look like a trader.” The distaste in his voice makes Gyuvin’s heart fall. That’s right, not everyone in the wasteland can be nice.

“Says he hailed from vault 134— can you believe that! A real vault dweller in the flesh! Haven’t had one of these in years!”

Ricky snorts, rolling his eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. They’re all dead.”

Gyuvin’s face twists into a glare. “I’m right here, you know. And I’m real. Vault 134 is real. How would you know anything?” His brief moment of confidence is crushed when Ricky stops pouring and stares him dead in the eye.

“Don’t ask me that question. The guards say they found you half dead. If anybody doesn’t know anything, it’s you.”

Moira sighs and gently hits Ricky’s shoulder. “Go easy on the kid, I think he’s telling the truth. Look,” she says, grabbing Gyuvin’s wrist to show proof of the Pip-Boy. “He’s gotta Pip-Boy! He’s the real deal!”

Ricky stares at the gadget for a few seconds, seemingly reconsidering his opinion. His eyes trail back up to meet Gyuvin’s once more. “Then what is a vault dweller doing here? Why aren’t you where you came from?”

Gyuvin swallows, entirely forgetting his main focus. He clears his throat and begins to speak.

“My brother. M-my brother left the vault a few days ago and never came back. I left…I left to look for him.” His eyes widen and he slams his palms on the bar with newfound energy. “Did a man come through here recently?! Brown hair and glasses? He has a Pip-Boy, too!”

The two go silent, looking at each other in confusion. Ricky shakes his head. “Not that I know of.”

Gyuvin slumps back into his seat in defeat. Moira pats his back and gives him a comforting smile. “We can ask around! Ricky ain’t the only person in town. I’ll let Doc know and a few of my employees, I’m sure someone has seen him. Besides, if vault 134 is around this area, then I’m sure he would’ve passed through here for supplies. Nobody passes Megaton up!”

Gyuvin nods, watching as Ricky serves a customer. His gaze is already away from Gyuvin, completely uninterested. He feels grossly defeated once more.

“Was he wearing a lab coat?” A gruff voice comes from behind the bar, causing Gyuvin to jump up.

Gyuvin isn’t quite sure what to make of this individual, with his deep rugged voice and strange appearance. He’s dressed in a similar outfit as Ricky, thin black hair falling over the worn lines in his forehead. His pupils are black but the edges of his eyes glow bright green. His nose is slightly sunken in and his skin texture appears rough to the touch. But above all, he’s just as pretty as the bartender. Gyuvin realizes in seconds that he is looking face to face with a non-feral ghoul.

“Hiya, Ji!” Moira says with excitement. Gyuvin watches as a customer gives the ghoul a look of disgust before taking a swig of his drink. “Nice of you to join us. Maybe you’ll be of help. Whad’ya think? Brown hair and glasses? Does that ring a bell?”

The ghoul offers a small smile, the details on his face contorting in fascinating ways. “Yeah, that sounds about right. Friendly fella. He stopped for a drink when Hanbin and I were here and headed out almost immediately after. I don’t think Ricky saw him.” The ghoul looks at Gyuvin again. “My name is Jiwoong. Happy to meet you.”

Gyuvin is careful with his words. “You’re…a…”

“A ghoul. Yes. I am. Wasn’t always like this, but here we are, anyway.” His tone is melancholic, traces of something sad. “Sorry you have to look at me.”

Gyuvin narrows his eyes. “What are you talking about? You’re plenty nice to look at.”

Jiwoong’s eyes widen with shock. A fellow patron looks at Gyuvin with a glare. The bar seems to go dead quiet and Gyuvin can’t figure out why.

“That’s mighty nice of you to say,” Jiwoong grins and whispers above the silence, looking down at his hands. “Most people here…would think the opposite.”

“It’s true,” Moira says. “Poor ol’ ghouls. They don’t mean no harm. Can’t help the way they are. Ji here is a sweetie. He’s gotta be the only ghoul they let into this city. You can thank Ricky for that one.”

Despite his offputting attitude, Gyuvin understands that Ricky must be kind in some way. He can’t understand why one would hate someone that used to be human— or is human, but in a different way. He came from a home that celebrated people from all over. Why would a ghoul be any different?

“He was wearing glasses, as you said,” Jiwoong changes the subject back to Gyuvin’s brother. “He didn’t say much about where he was going, but he looked like a doctor. I don’t know why, but I had a feeling it was a vault dweller. A few years back we had a similar man from vault 101 come in. They spoke the same way.”

“Did he say where he went?” Gyuvin asks with hope in his voice.

“Hm, I assume he went North. Probably towards The Capital. There’s not much out here past Megaton.”

“He coulda gone east to Rivet City," Ricky chimes back into the conversation. “Lots of our traders come that way.”

“But I assume he wasn’t trading, was he?” Jiwoong asks.

Gyuvin shakes his head and feels like sobbing again. “I don’t know what he was doing. I don’t even know why he left or why he didn’t tell me anything. I…” Gyuvin can’t help but cry. “I can’t ever go back to the vault. And he can’t, either. They’d probably kill me on the spot.”

Ricky shakes his head. “Damn Vault-Tec and their propaganda…evil fuckers.”

“Oh boy, don’t you cry! I oughta think it’s a good thing you got out of there!” Moira says, immediately snatching a napkin for Gyuvin to wipe his tears. “Your brother couldn’t have gotten far, you know! There’s only so many settlements in The Capital Wasteland, you’re bound to find him! You could even head on over to The Commonwealth! But…I don’t recommend that.”

Ricky gives Moira a look. “Don’t encourage him to go out like this. He’ll just get himself killed.”

Gyuvin sniffs. “Why would you care?”

Ricky is silent for a moment. “Like anybody else, I’d prefer not to see someone die.” His face is stone still, and Gyuvin wonders if he’s ever smiled before.

The vault dweller wipes his tears in embarrassment, thankful for Moira’s kindness but hating the way Ricky makes him feel small. But it’s not like he can help it— wastelanders are raw and realistic, they didn’t have the luxury of being sheltered. Despite his young age, Gyuvin can trace the lines of history etched onto Ricky’s features. He won’t ask about it.

“You can stay for as long as you like, hon. We’ll get you all fixed up to look for your brother,” Moira gently wipes away Gyuvin’s tears. “We don’t got much, but we have each other. Anyone is welcome here, even an ol’ vaultie.” She offers him a genuine smile, one that briefly reminds him of the love of his brother. He only nods.

“I’ll head north tomorrow.”

“I think your best bet is to head to the GNR building, where Galaxy News Radio broadcasts. It’s protected by The Brotherhood. You’ll be safe there,” Jiwoong says, handing Gyuvin another napkin to wipe his tears. “Make sure to state your business though, they don’t like civilians much.”

“The Brotherhood?” Gyuvin inquires, his sadness curbed by curiosity. “Who?”

Moira chuckles, Ricky’s eye twitches.

“Brotherhood of Steel, silly. They safeguard the use of technology to prevent another war. Something like that,” she responds. “But they do real good in protecting the important places from those awfully pesky super mutants.”

“Don’t trust them. They’re assholes,” Ricky says, his eyes never leaving the array of drinks in front of him. “Especially the Paladins.”

Moira shakes her head. “But they won’t hurt you. They’re here to do more good. Ricky here doesn’t believe in fighting the ‘good fight,’ as Three Dog says.”

“Three Dog?” Gyuvin feels horrible for having to ask so many questions.

“Galaxy News Radio host. He’s a real nice guy. Fighting the good fight? Getting rid of those super mutants and raiders and mean ol’ people wandering the wasteland. If you turn on that fancy Pip-Boy of yours to the station, he plays tunes from before the war. A little slice of normalcy. I always have it on.”

Ricky shakes his head while he cleans a glass.

“Maybe Three Dog knows something about your brother!” Moira exclaims. Gyuvin’s eyes light up.

“You think so?”

“Sometimes he tells stories about what happens near the Citadel. I’m sure he’s seen your brother around! Plus, the farther you go, the more settlements you’ll come across. He’s gotta be over there!”

Gyuvin goes quiet, looking down at his green-glowing Pip-Boy. He has the option to turn on the radio, but decides against it after catching Ricky’s narrowed eyes. “I’ll map my way there, then.”

“Make sure Doc gets you all fixed up! I’ll get you some stimpaks and repair kits. I don’t want anyone finding you half dead again,” Moira says.

Gyuvin slowly nods and hops off his chair, allowing himself to be pulled along by Moira. Jiwoong gives him a gentle smile and wave while Ricky gives him one last glance of uncertainty. It makes his heart fall. But it doesn’t matter, because he’ll never see him again.

Gyuvin finds himself staring at the ceiling for the remainder of the night, the Pip-Boy glowing with pre-war songs. He recognizes some of them, remembering the ham radio in his father’s study. He doesn’t know who sings them, but he wonders what kind of men and women they were. Before the war, before the bombs, before the hatred planted its seed right in the center of their hearts.

His tears fall with the music, and he wipes them away in embarrassment.

“Into each life, some rain must fall. But too much is falling in mine.”

His voice is melancholic, the recording so old that it crackles in his ears. The tone haunts him.

“Into each heart, some tears must fall. But someday the sun will shine.”

The last memory of Taerae bubbles up and he replays it over and over again.

“Don’t be discouraged Gyub, in a few years I’ll be able to appoint you as a member of my lab. Then they can’t do anything more to embarrass you,” he ruffled Gyuvin’s hair. “You’re much more than a test subject. Don’t let them reduce you to that.”

Gyuvin grumbled, leaning into Taerae’s side. “Hyung, is it fun? To be a scientist? I’ve always wondered.”

Taerae’s face was unreadable. His lips pursed into a thin line. “You must accept what is true in this world, especially when you can control parts of it.”

Gyuvin didn’t know what he meant. He still doesn’t. They’d watched a movie to bed, a black and white silent film from the early 1910’s. But he couldn’t focus on anything besides the fact that he wished he knew Taerae better. He pulls the covers to his neck and switches off the Pip-Boy after the mournful man sings his last line.

“Some folks can lose the blues in their heart. But when I think of you, another shower starts.”

☢️

“There was a radstorm last night. You beware of those radiation levels now,” Doc Church says when Gyuvin pulls on the last bits of raider armor. He looks at the strange glow emanating from outside the windows. Sickly green and dark. He shudders.

“Will it kill me?”

“No. But it's got spikes of 5 rads each step you take. Here,” he says, handing Gyuvin a peculiar item. “Take some Rad-X for your journey. It will prevent the radiation from seeping into your bones. And some RadAway, in case you keel over with rad poisoning.”

Gyuvin nods. “Thank you, Doc. I would be dead without you.”

“I’m happy when I can keep someone alive. Don’t get killed out there, kid. We like you. And maybe come back when you find your brother. We don’t get many friendly, bright-eyed wanderers in our walls.”

Gyuvin nods and stands, bowing deeply. Doc only pats his head.

He leaves the Megaton walls without saying goodbye to Ricky and Jiwoong. But Moira hugs him tight, slipping a 10mm pistol into his jacket despite his protests. Gyuvin hates guns, he’s always hated guns. But the wasteland was going to turn him one way or another, so he pockets it, anyway. It’s heavy against his waist, a constant reminder of what he’s going to have to sacrifice if he means to survive alone.

The doors shut behind him, and all that’s left are his soft breaths and the blanket of radiation pooling around his shoulders. It has a strange smell to it, something metallic and burnt. Doc said that one shouldn’t be able to smell radiation, but Gyuvin’s been in a lab for most of his life. He can smell it, and it makes his stomach turn.

The first leg of the journey is covered with overgrown weeds amongst a destroyed road. He assumes it’s the main highway to the Capital City. He imagines himself in a Corvega, cruising down the asphalt with the top off and a bright, clean sky to guide his way through the ruins. Gyuvin thinks he’d make a mighty fine businessman, skipping into work with a smile and coming home to a nice partner. They’d watch the tv announcing world peace and eat Salisbury Steak with their Mister Handy robot at their side. It brings him a sense of peace, erasing away the sickening levels of radiation that build inside him.

He handles the Radroaches and Radscorpions that run after him, easily swiping them with his police baton. Occasionally he finds Bloatflies that spit their sticky poison at his face. They smell awful and he misses a million times when he swings. But they don’t deter his spirit.

He makes his way towards the GNR building, destined to find the enigmatic radio host that may or may not know of his brother. He has the location marked on his Pip-Boy, the trail lit up and green on his wrist. It’s a far cry from both Megaton and his vault, but he’s determined to get there even if he has to crawl his way past the gates. He detests how out of place he feels— a wall-mannered, polite, and weak boy raised in a sheltered community. He’s fresh meat, a dying breed, someone that the rest will write off as dead as can be. A vaultie can’t put up a real fight, not with his aversion to blood and gore.

The sun begins to dip under the wastes as radioactive clouds roll in. He shivers at the thought of being caught in a radstorm, plaguing his healthy body with revolting levels of radiation. But the clouds don’t darken and the sky doesn’t drip venom. He continues on down the cracked pavement with quick strides, becoming hyperaware of his dim surroundings. He’s tempted to switch on the radio but fears he might cry again, so he decides against it.

When he first hears the sounds before him, they resemble wolves. Small, soft cries of creatures roaming the brush. But when he moves closer, they amplify, the howls akin to something a little more human. He stops dead in his tracks, squinting his eyes over the small hill obscuring his vision and whatever lies ahead. It’s quiet for a few moments, the cries entirely halting.

Then he feels it.

Thunderous movements that shake the earth beneath him, causing him to fall to his knees. Violent tremors of 6.0 earthquakes that roar with fury. He presses his palms flat against the ground as the first round of gunshots go off. Gyuvin fingers the gun pressed to his waist and squeezes his eyes shut, realizing that there are people in trouble yards in front of him.

The cries come again, though this time they are significantly louder and widespread. His breath hitches in his throat as he hears a bellowing shriek, one that shakes the ground once more. He clamps a hand over his mouth as he slowly crawls over the hill, peeking at the scene.

He nearly screams at the sight of it.

Grotesque, bloodied, enormous.

Sharp spines run down its entire back, piercing white eyes that burn with rage, pointed nails that blindly swipe in front of its massive body, dinosaur-like feet that command the earth.

Gyuvin has no idea what he’s looking at, but he knows it will kill him if it touches him. The creature is surrounded by a pack of individuals wearing similar gear, shooting off rounds at the horrific being. Their armor appears to be makeshift, with spare tires on their shoulders and spikes on their helmets. They charge with zero fear, head-shotting the monster even if they get flown backwards each time they get close.

Gyuvin grips his gun and slowly eases closer, making a quick and final decision. He couldn’t catch his brother, he couldn’t save his friends, he couldn’t even save himself without interrupting other people’s lives.

He’s used a gun once before. High school extracurriculars. They’d forced him to try target practice one day during enrichment. Marcel was an excellent marksman, doing his best to help Gyuvin position his fingers correctly. But he’d hated the feeling, laughing off all the missed shots. Now, he’s glad that he remembers how to even work the weapon.

He makes the first shot. A stray bullet that flies past the monster and skids along the pavement. He curses to himself and aims again, certain that he can at least hit the monster’s arm. He shoots and misses— the bullet clips an arm of one of the armored individuals. He gasps to himself, nearly dropping the gun. The guilt pours in like acid, making him immediately ill. He’s ready to apologize and drop to his knees until the injured person looks him dead in the eye.

There’s nothing friendly or forgiving in this stranger’s stance. He pauses for a moment, looking behind him at the battling monster, and then refocuses his attention back to Gyuvin. He’s charging in moments, raising his spiked baseball bat in preparation to attack. Gyuvin moves quickly, hopping back over the hill and rolling down with ease. He panics as he fumbles with the gun, watching it drop from his hands and skid across the ground. The stranger laughs, sliding down the sloped road just feet away from him.

Gyuvin doesn’t understand. He was trying to help. He was trying to team up. He dodges the first swing with a scream, pulling out his own meager police baton. He barely misses a swipe to his shoulder, ducking out of the way and instead whacking the baton at the stranger’s feet. The individual yelps and topples over, but immediately gets back up with rage. Gyuvin swallows and grips the weapon so hard his knuckles go white. The stranger jumps forward and lands a blow to Gyuvin’s wrist, the cracking sound so violent Gyuvin can hardly believe it’s coming from his own body. He cries out, disregarding the fact that his wrist is likely broken and swipes the stranger’s head with his other hand. It works, sending the individual flying towards the ground.

He gets up a second time, ready to attack Gyuvin once more before there’s another horrific shake in the ground. They both fall, tumbling on their weapons and struggling to get back up. The massive creature makes its way over the hill, likely having killed all the people in its wake. Gyuvin watches in horror as it grabs his aggressor with massive, torn hands and launches him half a mile away. He nearly gags at the sight, scrambling to his feet with nausea. With no more people in his way, Gyuvin realizes that he is now the only target.

He closes his eyes and runs, ignoring the loud footsteps behind.

He’s going to die like this. Dying because he chose to be a good person in an unforgiving land. Dying because he chose to find his brother. Dying because he isn’t any stronger.

The first blow hurts the most. He can feel the creature’s piercing claw dig into his thin armor. It doesn’t go all the way through, but it leaves a nasty gash on his back. He doesn’t have the energy to cry out anymore, half accepting his fate. The second hit sends him flying forwards and landing harshly on the pavement, the creature roaring with anger. A third hit will kill him in an instant, he knows this much is true.

But it doesn’t come. And after a few seconds of lying on the ground, Gyuvin turns to see the creature distracted by another foe in the distance. A large, terrifying bear-like creature almost as massive as the monster behind him. The fight immediately begins between them, sharp claws at each other’s faces, shrieks of pain, screams of agony. Gyuvin takes the opportunity to pull his body off the ground, not forgetting to grab and holster his abandoned pistol. The pain is ten times worse than being bitten by a ghoul, but he knows he must find some kind of shelter or the creature will come back to finish him off.

He limps away from the scene, fumbling with the bag on his shoulders for a first aid kit. It tumbles out of his duffle, spilling the contents on the floor as he curses. He doesn’t waste a second before injecting the stimpak into his side, trying his best to get as close to the wound as possible. He throws his head back and wails silently, waiting for the serum to work through his system. It helps for a little bit, but he realizes that nothing will entirely quell his pain unless he sees a doctor.

The battle behind him intensifies, the screaming becoming louder and louder. They are slaughtering each other, slicing at the other’s throats. One foe against another, another foe distracted by the third. Everything kills. Everything is out to get you. The vault was right about that part.

Gyuvin doesn’t know how he manages to wobble far enough away and is no longer in sight of the creatures. The roars die down, assuming that they have done enough damage to render each other useless and writhing in pain. He follows the very road he was determined to leave, retracing his steps in pure defeat. Ugly sobs wrack through his body as he drags his legs through the wasteland, a near repeat of just a few days ago. He’s not far from the settlement, he knows that this is his only saving grace. The humiliation burns within his chest, eating him from the inside out. If he makes it back, the guards will surely leave him there to die. Why give someone who’s already dead a second chance?

The night blackens the further he deliriously wanders back to Megaton. He can’t feel anything below his neck, his body rushing with adrenaline. He’s in shock, forgetting entirely about his mission. All he cares about is getting back to Megaton. Taerae would never forgive him if he died like this.

He collapses farther away from the gate this time, the Protectrons that guard the walls beeping with alertness at his presence. If it weren’t for the robots, the human guards wouldn’t have noticed him at all. His breath shortens and his body seethes with pain. In an act of desperation, he thinks about leaving a message for Taerae on his Pip-Boy, but he can’t move his other wrist. So he succumbs just like this.

Everything is out to get him.

☢️

Muffled voices. A dim light. Droning of pre-war music.

A pounding migraine, an excruciating burn, horrific nausea.

“For christ’s sake Hao, we cannot let him go out there again!” The gruff voice is familiar.

“Then send him back to the vault!” Another voice says.

“We can’t send him back there, they’ll kill him, too!” A third voice. Gyuvin stirs.

“We have to take him in.” It’s Jiwoong.

“Ricky won’t like that.”

“Hanbinnie, please, you know better than most what it’s like out there. I can’t just let him go because Ricky feels a little paranoid. Look at him, he’s nearly dead,” Jiwoong pleads.

The two unfamiliar voices sigh in unison. There’s a brief pause.

“Then what do you suppose we do with him?”

“Hao, we’ll figure out a place for him.” Jiwoong sounds exhausted. “We could always use another hand.”

“But what about finding his brother?!”

“Yeah, what was all that about?”

Jiwoong takes a deep breath. “His brother probably left for a reason. This kid’s safety should come first.”

More silence.

“Ricky isn’t going to be pleased.”

“Ricky has taken both Hanbin and I in, Hao. Remember the luxury of where you came from.”

Despite half asleep, even Gyuvin can understand that Jiwoong’s words have gone too far. The Hao in question audibly steps back and sighs. Regret hangs heavy in the air.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to reduce y—”

“Keep him here. I’m going to go find Ricky.”

A quiet room. Shuffling feet. Gyuvin is out like a light.

☢️

Gyuvin’s body feels like Sundays in the vaults.

Post workout and training sessions, all tired out with limp muscles and aches in his stomach. His fingers twitch, and just the thought of moving his head makes him grossly nauseous. He cracks his eyes open and watches as the ceiling swirls around him.

Someone else is there, too, sitting just feet away from his bed. Once he notices that Gyuvin’s eyes are open, he shuffles his way over. Relief washes over Gyuvin once he realizes who it is.

“Hey kid,” Jiwoong says in his oddly comforting gruff voice. “Sorry you had to end up back here.”

Gyuvin doesn’t respond. Jiwoong keeps talking.

“It was a Deathclaw I assume, judging by the scars on your back.” He stops for a moment and sighs, looking down at his feet. “I should have never let you go back out there on your own. I’m sorry.”

Gyuvin parts his cracked lips. “Not…your…fault.”

Jiwoong shakes his head. “None of us expected you to make it. I’m really sorry.”

Despite the pain, Gyuvin scoffs. He’s nothing but fresh meat.

“You…don’t want me here.” Tears prick at his eyes. “Let me go again. I’ll let the wasteland take care of it.”

Jiwoong gently readjusts Gyuvin’s pillow. “I can’t let it do that. I’ve lived long enough to know the only thing keeping us all sane is being good when you can.”

Gyuvin feels the tears drip down his dry face. Jiwoong sounds just like his brother.

“I’ll let you get some rest…then we’ll talk.”

Gyuvin’s throat hurts when he laughs. “You have no clue what to do with me, do you?” There’s a sad smile on his lips. Jiwoong only sighs, confirming Gyuvin’s solemn thoughts.

He sleeps for what feels like eternity, woken up by the occasional footsteps and needles that pierce his skin. They’re keeping him alive for a reason he doesn’t know just yet, using their supplies to keep his heart beating. In the vaults, Gyuvin was never a soul to pity.

Radstorms come and go, though he can’t quite tell how many of them are real or hallucinations. Sometimes there’s a green film wafting around his bed, and sometimes Keita sits at the edge alongside Marcel. Pre-war music is the only background noise that grounds him to reality, a reminder that he’s not dead yet.

When he finally feels alive, Doc tells him it’s been three days. Gyuvin looks at the older man with crippling confusion, slowly blinking every few seconds. He’s lived at least five lifetimes in those three days, watching his childhood flash before him. He learns that he’s in Moira’s shop, upstairs in the guest bedroom. He’s thankful for her warmth and kindness but regrets being a burden.

Walking feels like a chore, gripping onto Moira’s frame as he limps across the bedroom. She advises him against it, but he shakes off her concerns and forces shaky steps down the stairs to the main area. He doesn’t know who’s clothes he’s wearing, but they hang a little too loosely around his body. He misses his snug jumpsuit.

Upon making it to the counter, he climbs onto a chair and slumps his head down. To the left of him, two strangers give him a pitiful look. Moira runs a hand through Gyuvin’s hair and heads into a storage room. Gyuvin rests against his arms and struggles to regain his senses.

One of the strangers speaks. “Gyuvin?” The voice is familiar. Gyuvin immediately recognizes him as Hao. He slowly lifts his head.

“That’s me, unfortunately.”

Hao doesn’t look nearly as frightening as the others. He’s prim and proper, a wild difference to many other Megaton settlers— similar to Ricky’s clean-cut appearance. He’s wearing a plaid shirt and a pair of jeans, a callback to pre-war fashion. There are large glasses tipping over his nose and his hair is a dark brown. He smiles and Gyuvin immediately likes him.

“You look much better than you did a few days ago. Cheers to you for surviving all that.”

Gyuvin sighs. “I should be dead.”

“Mm, but you’re not,” the stranger next to Hao says. He grins and introduces himself. “I’m Hanbin. I work at the bar, too.”

Gyuvin slowly nods. “And you do too?” He nods to Hao.

“Ah, well…” he awkwardly looks over at Hanbin. “Not quite. I work…out of my town. It’s a bit complicated.”

“We’re Jiwoongi— I mean Jiwoong’s…uh” he cautiously chooses his next words, “people.”

Gyuvin nods again, having no idea what that implies. He assumes he’ll eventually figure it out.

“Anyway, we’re here to help you,” Hanbin smiles again. Despite the friendly demeanor, Gyuvin’s heart constricts when he recalls the conversation he overheard just days ago.

The next person that waltzes into the building is someone else Gyuvin doesn’t recognize. A boy, a little younger than the lot of them, with black hair and worn-down clothing. He gives them a nod and disappears into another room without uttering a word.

“Yujin. Ricky’s brother,” Hao clarifies. “He works for Craterside and the bar.”

“Brother?” Gyuvin asks.

Hao nods. “Ricky picked him off the streets pretty young back in Vegas. They’ve been brothers ever since.”

“Ah,” Gyuvin purses his lips. Family isn’t blood here, family is chosen. “Are you all friends with Ricky?”

“Almost related at this point,” Hanbin laughs. “He’s sort of stuck with us these days. We don’t leave town much.” He glances at Hao. “Some of us might never leave.” His gaze lingers.

There’s a moment of silence as Gyuvin familiarizes himself with his surroundings. Hao and Hanbin seem friendly enough— maybe a little weary, but willing to be kind. Gyuvin assumes that Yujin is just as disinterested as his stoic brother and doesn’t think much of it. He tucks his head back into his arms and lets his eyes fall shut.

He’s woken up hours later by Moira’s friendly voice, directly behind the counter. She’s quietly speaking to someone.

“Oh boy, he must still be tired.” She pats his head. “Don’t ya think you could whip him up something a little special? Poor boy’s been through hell and back.”

“He’s just going to get himself hurt again.”

Gyuvin’s body tenses up. It’s Ricky.

“It hasn’t been a full week since he’s been out. Cut him some slack and let him adjust. God knows what kind of propaganda they filled his pretty little head with.”

And with that, Gyuvin pretends to wake up. He peeks past his arm, not expecting to make direct eye contact with Ricky. He gasps and quickly hides himself again, not missing the bartender’s different hairstyle. His bangs fall loosely around his face and he’s wearing something a little less formal. His sleeves are pulled up, revealing toned arms and slender fingers. Gyuvin heavily sighs into the counter.

“Well good morning, sunshine. It’s evening now,” Moira says, heading over to close up the shop. “Ricky here will make you something that’ll help that headache.”

Ricky narrows his eyes but turns around and begins digging into the cabinets, anyway. Gyuvin allows himself another peek as the black-haired man works with the unfamiliar ingredients. His cheeks burn with humiliation and embarrassment. He cannot believe these people have all met him at his worst.

“I’m sorry,” is the only thing he can muster. Ricky stops what he’s doing and gives him a look.

“It’s not like you can help it.”

Gyuvin traces shapes into the counter with his numb fingers. “I know you don’t really like me. But if you can put up with me for just a few more we—”

“We’re not letting you back out there.”

Gyuvin’s eyes widen. “W-what?”

Ricky doesn’t look up from his drink. “I said, we’re not letting you back out there.” He pauses. “Not alone at least.”

“But I don’t belong here.”

“I’m aware that you don’t. But sending you out there is a death sentence.” He effortlessly pours a blue substance into a glass. “So, we’re gonna send someone with you.”

Gyuvin’s eyes go even wider and he slaps his palms on the counter, causing him to wince. Ricky doesn’t flinch. “You can’t do that. Nobody else should be out there but me.”

“There’s lots of mercenaries and scavengers looking for work. To most of them, the wasteland is just terrain.”

“I can’t put anyone in danger.”

Ricky scoffs and gently sets a drink in front of Gyuvin’s face. “I never said they’d die for you.”

Gyuvin goes pale white. He stares at the blueish drink with a soured appetite. “Then why send anyone at all?”

Ricky purses his lips and gives Gyuvin a calculated stare. “It’d be cruel not to.”

You’re already cruel, Gyuvin thinks. He says nothing and sips the drink in front of him. It tastes artificial and fruity, but goes down smoothly.

“Thanks.” He takes another sip as Ricky gives him a nod. He wishes he wasn’t so terrified in the bartender’s presence. Anything he does or says will be held against him, eliciting that dark, irritated gaze. His hands tightly wrap around the glass as he opens his mouth to speak.

“Do you treat all vault dwellers like this?” Gyuvin shakily asks. Ricky raises an eyebrow.

“Like what?”

“Like a parasite.”

Ricky narrows his eyes, just as Gyuvin expected him to. “I know your type.”

Gyuvin feels rage burn within him, overtaking the fear. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“Vault dwellers are ignorant people held captive by pre-war ideologies. I know enough.”

Gyuvin abruptly stands up and throws his fists down on the counter, getting right up in Ricky’s face. Once more, the bartender doesn’t flinch.

“Call me ignorant one more time,” he threatens, not missing the way Ricky looks close up. Flawless skin, pretty lips, a pleasant fragrance. He resists the urge to ball Ricky’s collar up in his hands and throw him against the wall. Part of him knows, however, that he’d never have the strength to do so.

“All I’m saying,” Ricky says carefully, not breaking eye contact, “is that you don’t know what you think you know.” He gently presses his right palm against Gyuvin’s chest and pushes him away. “You have to understand that when a human with non-irradiated blood appears from the very earth, nobody is going to take kindly to that kind of privilege. Vaults— all of them, have tailored forms of evil inside of them. You are no exception.”

Gyuvin pulls away, his face red hot. “You think I’m some kind of threat.”

Ricky begins cleaning the bar as if nothing happened. “Precisely.”

“Ricky, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know what the vaults did. I didn’t even know people survived on the surface! The way you’re treating me isn’t fair!”

“Nothing up here is fair.”

Gyuvin sighs in exasperation, holding his face with his hands. “Can’t you just pretend to be nice for the time being? Like you said, nobody is willing to die for me. I won’t be here for long. All I ask is to be treated normally,” he pleads.

Ricky stops cleaning to look up at Gyuvin. He says nothing. Gyuvin shakes his head and turns on his heels, heading back upstairs to sleep.

“And for the record, I almost died twice. You should know by now that I don’t pose a goddamn threat.”

Ricky doesn’t respond. Gyuvin angrily burrows himself under the covers.

☢️

“Behold! He is coming with the clouds! And every eye shall be blind with his glory! Every ear shall be stricken deaf to hear the thunder of his voice! Let the men, women, and children of the Earth come forth to gather and behold the power of Atom!”

Gyvuin stares out the window, slowly sipping a carton of water. He watches as the crazed preacher drags his hands up and down the undetonated bomb, dirtying his nails with each and every word.

“Let those who dwell here in his favored land attend now to the words of the Prophet of Atom! Come forth and drink the waters of the Glow, for this ancient weapon of war is our salvation, it is the very symbol of Atom's glory!”

Gyuvin lays his head on the windowsill, listening to the words like he cares about him. Jiwoong and Hao sit beside him, their legs crossed.

“You’ve been like this for a few days. You sure you’re alright?” Jiwoong asks, placing a comforting hand on the younger’s shoulder. “You don’t have to stay here the whole time, you know. There are some recreational activities across town.”

Gyuvin glumly shakes his head, eyes still trained on the preacher. “They haven’t found anyone yet, have they?”

“Ah…not quite yet. But don’t worry too much, travelers come in every few days. We’ll find someone for you,” Hao says with a smile. Gyuvin turns to look at him, curiosity glinting in his eyes.

“You’re an outsider too, aren’t you?”

Hao blinks, eyes wide. He gives Jiwoong a look and awkwardly coughs. “Well, you certainly figured that out quick.”

Gyuvin shrugs. “Takes one to know one, I guess.” He takes another sip. “What about it, then? Why are you here?”

Hao carefully fixes his glasses and clears his throat. “I’m not from The Capital, I’m from The Commonwealth. You know— Boston and all that. Farther up north, where things are a little different.” He takes a deep breath and laughs. “I’m from Diamond City, a real nice town.”

“One of the only prosperous settlements on the east coast, mind you,” Jiwoong corrects, but it’s playful.

Hao shyly nods. “I’m quite lucky, if I’m being honest. We have a lot of things the other settlements don’t— police force, public school, agriculture, institutes, etc.”

“He’s the mayor’s nephew,” Jiwoong whispers into Gyuvin’s ear. The younger giggles but then cocks his head.

“So…what are you doing here, then? If Diamond City is so glamorous?”

While certainly not horrible, Megaton is run-down and drab. Gyuvin can’t understand why Hao would be anywhere else than where he’s from. He sticks out like a sore thumb, his clean-pressed clothing catching everyone’s eyes from afar.

“As I mentioned, I work from out of town. A detection agency, actually”

Gyuvin raises his eyebrows. “That’s a thing here?!”

“I told you, prosperous settlement,” Jiwoong whispers.

“I came here on a lead for an investigation and…”

“And never left,” Jiwoong finishes with a smile. Hao nods, grinning back. Gyuvin looks down at their intertwined hands and begins to connect the dots.

“I underestimated what I’d find. But my boss knows where I am and keeps me in close contact. I do my own investigations on this side of the wasteland. And believe me,” Hao laughs, “when I say they were just as weary of me as they are of you. So don’t take it too personally. Ricky will warm up at some point.”

“He’s right,” Jiwoong confirms. “He’s only looking out for us.”

“Not only that, but Ricky grew up in close proximity to vault 21, a vault completely governed by gambling. You can probably imagine the kind of horrors he saw come out of that place,” Hao says. “None of us have heard of vault 134, we really thought it stopped after 122. You’re a real enigma, Gyuvin.”

The younger sighs and looks back out the window, watching as the sky begins to darken. “What about Hanbin, then?”

“Ah…Hanbinnie…” Jiwoong sounds reluctant. “He’s local…”

“He was a raider,” Hao blurts out. Gyuvin whips around and stares at him in shock. He’s half certain that the individual that nearly killed him was a raider. He blinks, wondering if Hanbin poses any sort of threat. Judging by his pleasant demeanor in the shop, however, Gyuvin doubts it.

“Well, he was raised by raiders,” Hao corrects himself. “You’d never guess— that calm, soft-spoken man was trained to kill.”

“Then why…” Gyuvin starts.

“When he was young, his parents were killed by raiders. They took him in and raised him as one of their own.” Jiwoong shakes his head and laughs. “They sent him on his first solo trip to rob Ricky’s bar a year ago and instead of carrying out the mission, he broke down and sobbed.”

“Our Hanbin wasn’t born to hurt anyone,” Hao says sweetly. “And Ricky could have killed him. He could have sent the townspeople to take care of him. But he didn’t. He gave him empathy and a bed. And now, he’s one of us.”

“Even has a tattoo to prove it,” Jiwoong continues. “And you know, I’m a ghoul of course. The four of us aren’t so different.”

Gyuvin takes in all the information, feeling relieved knowing he isn’t the only one Ricky was apprehensive about. He yearns for more backstories, fueled by fascination. He turns to Jiwoong and studies his features. “How…long have you been alive for?”

Jiwoong’s lips curl into a melancholic smile. “Mm, 230 years? Something along those lines.”

Gyuvin gasps, covering his mouth. “You were alive when the bombs dropped?!”

Jiwoong nods and continues. “I was. But it all happened so fast.” He points to the wrinkles and tears on his face. “I was sort of immortalized at age 25. A little rough for halfway to 30, I think.”

Hao giggles beside him. “Don’t forget the moviestar part.”

Gyuvin’s eyes widen. “What?!”

Jiwoong fervently denies it. “I was only beginning my career when the war started.” He looks down at the floor as if he’s watching the memories play out beneath him. “It was a very different time.”

“An iconic Korean actor, he’s underestimating himself,” Hao says into Gyuvin’s ear with a grin.

“The bombs dropped in Los Angeles when I was shooting a drama. After that, I didn’t think things could get worse.”

“When did the ghoulification begin?” Gyuvin inquires, hoping that he’s not crossing any boundaries.

“2145, a few years after I helped build a brand new town from the ruins.” He sighs, closing his eyes. “Shady Sands was my real home for a while. Until my skin started to fall off.” Jiwoong lays his head on Hao’s shoulder. “You know, my impression of vaulties isn’t so bad. It was a vault dweller that founded the town in the first place.”

Gyuvin gives him a sympathetic smile.

“So, you’re not the only one out of place here. I just think Ricky has had it pretty bad.”

“He’s the youngest, but with the best leadership. I don’t think anyone else could do what he does or did,” Hao says, running a hand through Jiwoong’s thin hair. “So please, don’t take it personally. We promise he isn’t as cruel as he pretends to be.”

“And for christ’s sake, join us for dinner one night before we send you off again!” Jiwoong insists.

The two leave the room as night falls over the wasteland. Gyuvin finishes his carton and crawls back into the dated bed, double-securing the Pip-Boy on his wrist. His mind swirls with information.

Ricky took in two societal rejects— something unheard of in such a horrid world. A raider and a ghoul, two untrustworthy beings of utmost kindness. He doesn’t understand why Hao of all people isn’t raider or ghoul-phobic, but he digresses.

He thinks about what it would be like to see Ricky smile at him, all welcoming and warm. Could he fit one more outlier into his roster? Could he trust a vault dweller? Or has that empathy run out?

He closes his eyes and dreams of happier times.

☢️

A week goes by.

Doc and Moira grow increasingly concerned, checking in on Gyuvin nearly every hour. They assure him that they’ll find someone to tag along, giving him comforting smiles and filling his tummy with hordes of tinned food and Nuka-Cola. He appreciates the gestures, but wishes they’d just let him go.

The three misfits (Jiwoong, Hao, and Hanbin) are the best company Gyuvin has. They recount their lives to him and keep his spirits up, dragging him to new places in town and introducing him to all of the residents. After being in Megaton for a week or so, the townspeople begin to recognize him as harmless. He’s relieved to find more people giving him curt hello’s instead of passing glares.

Ricky remains stoic and uninterested, eyes darting away every time Gyuvin enters his bar. It doesn’t matter how often Gyuvin sits at the counter and stares, Ricky’s brows are always furrowed and his lips are always dipped into a frown. Moira will collect him each and every time, promising more enjoyable activities than watching Ricky make cocktails all day. Once and a while, the bartender will throw an unamused glare and swiftly turn around before Gyuvin is pulled away.

It’s not what he imagined leaving the vault would be like, but he doesn’t necessarily hate it. If he had died on the way to Megaton before making it past the walls, he’d be doomed to a life of watching his brother struggle from the clouds. He doesn’t take any of the help for granted, always offering to aid Moira in her shop and make alcohol runs for Ricky (to which of course he denies every time). He finds he’s more useful in the clinic, having been loosely trained in medicine by his brother. Doc Church is a kind man, always putting Gyuvin’s nerves to rest.

On the Saturday of the first week, Gyuvin finds himself at the clinic a little later than normal, patching up a few radroach bites on a young girl. She had questioned him at first, asking if he really was the vault dweller that popped up out of nowhere. Gyuvin had learned very quickly that word gets around.

He’d patted her head and said yes, recounting a few tales of the good times he had during childhood. She’d run off swearing to tell her parents the wonderful parts of Vault 134. But knows they won’t believe her one bit.

Once midnight strikes, Gyuvin leaves the clinic and waves away Doc’s offer of a few Rad-Aways. Because of his pure blood, Doc had worried about the radiation in the air and how it would affect him internally. So far, Gyuvin feels as fine as can be.

Normally, he heads to Moira’s to help with inventory. He silently works side by side with Yujin, making small talk. The kid is much easier to communicate with than his brother, already sensing that the younger doesn’t seem to have a problem with him like Ricky does. He offers small tidbits of helpful information and goes over the weapon catalogue in Moira’s shop, briefly explaining how to use each one. He echoes the same sentiments as the others— Ricky is just a little rough on the outside. He’ll warm up. He always does. I don’t think you’re so bad. Hell, you didn’t even know how to properly load a gun. He’s crazy protective these days. Drove me nuts when I was 15.

Gyuvin slowly opens the door to the Craterside supply before he hears talking below him. Outside of Rose Quartz, Ricky leans against the walls speaking to someone Gyuvin recognizes from town. Lucas Simms, the friendly town sheriff and jubilant mayor. He’d introduced himself once, making sure Gyuvin knew he was welcome. They talk animatedly in front of the bar, their voices in hushed whispers.

Before he realizes what he’s doing, Gyuvin crouches down and gets closer to the edge of the bridge he’s standing on, hovering just over Rose Quartz. He strains himself to hear, grasping the bars and stilling his movements.

“Ji could take over a little while, don’t you think?” Lucas’ voice is low. “I’d leave if I could, but I can’t be away from the town for more than a few days at a time.”

Ricky shakes his head. “Nobody trusts the vaultie.”

Gyuvin’s heart plummets. How many times is he going to catch people talking behind his back like this?

“I know that. But I know he’s a good kid, too. You remember James, from 101? He’s the reason we have pure water these days. Project Purity? That saved our damn lives. You can’t assume all the vault dwellers are like the ones you knew back at home.”

There’s a frustrated sigh from Ricky. “I can’t help it.”

“I know you can’t. Why don’t we send Hanbin? He’s the most experienced in the wasteland.”

Ricky vehemently shakes his head. “I can’t tear him away from Hao and Jiwoong. Besides, that man has enough PTSD as it is.”

Lucas is quiet for a moment, tapping his foot. “I’d pay you good caps, son. You’d be a hero of this town.”

Gyuvin narrows his eyes and leans down further.

“I have no interest in being a hero. I just want to live in peace.”

Lucas fixes his cowboy hat and takes a few steps back. “Think it over. Talk to the kid. I’ll be in my office when you need me.” And with that, the sheriff disappears into town.

Gyuvin cautiously waits a few moments as Ricky sighs and goes back inside the bar. He throws a glance at Craterside and decides that Moira can handle one night without his help. He makes his way back down the bridge and peers up at the blinking neon lights of Rose Quartz. He takes a deep breath and pushes open the door.

The lights are half off, a few candles glowing from the upstairs bedroom. The bar is already scrubbed down and the alcohol is all organized along the shelves. With no one in sight, Gyuvin climbs onto a bar seat and rests his head against the counter. He doesn’t understand himself, or why he wants to be there in the first place. It’s quiet and a bit damp, somewhat nostalgic of his vault dormitory. But overall, there’s the overwhelming gnawing feeling of wanting the apathetic bartender to like him. If he could just talk to him, he could prove himself.

“Why are you here?” The voice causes Gyuvin to jump up with a squeak. He slides off the seat with fervor, coming nearly face to face with Ricky. He’s glaring again, that same look that Gyuvin wishes didn’t have to be so cold.

“I…uh…I just wanted…” he stutters, backing up against the counter. Ricky narrows his eyes.

“We’re closed.”

“I just wanted to talk.”

For a few moments, Ricky’s glare lets up. He steps back and crosses his arms over his chest. “About what?”

“I think you misunderstand me.”

Ricky takes a deep breath. “I don’t want to understand you.”

“Why?!” Gyuvin snaps, stepping towards Ricky with a surge of confidence. “You let Hanbin and Jiwoong in. Why not me?” His eyes gloss over with tears. “You can trust a ghoul and a raider, why can’t you trust a vault dweller?”

Ricky looks dumbfounded, his eyes widening. “How did you know all that?”

“You think they didn’t tell me?”

Ricky remains silent, his eyes traveling to the floor. He seems to have a moment of regret, something a little more kind glinting in his demeanor. Gyuvin takes another step. They’re inches apart now.

“I may be ignorant, but I’m not here to hurt anyone. I may have been raised in a privileged home, but I’m not blind to what is around me. Please, you don’t have to like me, but at least listen to me,” Gyuvin pleads, fighting the urge to grip Ricky’s hands in desperation.

The bartender finally meets his eyes, his face unreadable. For once, he isn’t glaring. Gyuvin can’t quite understand what’s going on inside his head.

“Sit,” is all Ricky says, making his way around the counter. Gyuvin scrambles onto a stool. He nearly jumps out of his skin the moment Ricky semi-slams a bottle of clean water in front of him. “Tell me what you know about Vault-Tec. Everything you know. And believe me, I’ll know if you’re lying.”

Gyuvin takes a shaky breath and gulps. Vault-Tec. Vault-Tec? The keeper of the human race, the American dream, the pre-war geniuses that built vaults all over the nation to keep people alive?

“They were supposed to keep us safe. Of which they did. They sent the people down under before the bombs dropped.”

“Do you know why they did that, Gyuvin?”

Gyuvin shakes his head with a frown. He’s terrified of what Ricky will say next.

“Your ignorance is going to kill you if I don’t rip the bandaid off now.” Ricky leans over the counter. “What was your vault like?”

“V-vault 134 was known for its melting pot diversity. We lived in harmony with cultures and religions. We had our own sections of the vault like a globe. We are a rich, prosperous society where nobody is higher than the others.” Gyuvin smiles to himself. “We are model citizens.”

Ricky splays his palms against the counter. “Interesting experiment.”

Gyuvin stares at him as if he’s grown three heads. “What do you mean experiment?”

Ricky drums his fingers on the counter. “You really don’t know, do you?”

Gyuvin fights the urge to scream. “No! I don’t! And I’m sick of everyone not telling me!”

Ricky ignores his outburst. “You’re right about one thing— the vaults were meant to re-colonize the planet after the bombs. But that wasn’t the main goal.” He takes a second and looks up at Gyuvin. “You can’t look at me and fight the next thing I say. But I need you to take a deep breath and listen to my words very carefully.”

Gyuvin feels his mouth go dry. He slowly nods.

“The vaults were experiments, Gyuvin. All 134 of them. Why do you think every vault was different? The government couldn’t care less about saving people. What they cared about was remaining in power, even years after the bombs.” He looks over Gyuvin’s broken expression and carefully continues. “They tested humanity’s limits, their morals, their selfishness. The purpose was never to save you, the purpose was to achieve scientific milestones at the expense of your lives.”

Gyuvin scoffs in disbelief, turning his head to the side so Ricky can’t see the tears forming in his eyes. Sure, he can’t quite bring himself to believe, but he also can’t bring himself to deny it altogether. He always had his suspicions about The Overseer and the strange character change within his own mother. He knew deep down in his heart that there was something else they weren’t telling him. His thoughts sour. Taerae knew, didn’t he?

“Vault 21 was run by gambling. Every and all disputes were settled by poker games. That was its experiment. In fact, it’s one of the only vaults that made it past 200 years of living generations. Imaginable evil and violence over money. Vault-Tec made sure of it.”

Gyuvin gasps and watches as a tear slips down to the floor. Ricky doesn’t stop talking.

“But I’m sure you understand by now, that surviving for those 200 years was rare for a vault. Vault 19. Vault-Tec scientists segregated the inhabitants by two colors, blue and red. Then released stimuli that built feelings of distrust and hatred. What do you think they did to each other then, Gyuvin?”

The vault dweller doesn’t answer.

“Blood bath. Dead. All of them.”

“Stop,” Gyuvin whispers.

“Vault 111. Forced everybody into cryogenic pods to see how long their bodies could withstand long-term cryostasis. Two people survived. Everyone else? You can guess.”

Gyuvin’s sobs grow audible.

“Vault 12. Vault-Tec designed a faulty door to purposefully allow radiation to seep through. Ghouls, all of them. Vault 75. Children were torn from their parents in order to undergo rigorous training in preparation for gene harvesting. Vault 22. A deadly fungus turned every human into cannibalistic spore creatures. Vault 13—”

“Stop!” Gyuvin nearly screams, holding his head in his hands. “I get it! I get it.” His voice considerably lowers. “Please, just stop talking.”

Ricky allows him a few minutes to recuperate before opening his mouth again. “Your experiment was meant to tear each other apart with disagreements and war, Gyuvin. But it prevailed. There are only a handful of successful vault experiments. And you’re one of them.”

Gyuvin sobs into his arms and tries his best to bury Ricky’s words. How many people in 134 knew all this? Who were the ones still conducting the experiments? Why would Vault-Tec do this— especially since they can’t possibly be around anymore?

“Your brother, Gyuvin,” Ricky starts, “likely knew these things. I can’t imagine why else he’d run away from that vault.”

Gyuvin shakes his head. “He would tell me.”

“To keep you safe and innocent he wouldn’t.”

Gyuvin wipes away the tears that careen down his cheeks. “But it doesn’t explain why he’d leave at all. If our vault was successful, then why abandon it? There’s something else—” Gyuvin frustratingly slams his fists down onto the counter. “There’s so much I’m missing. There’s so much I’ve missed.”

Ricky’s face is full of guilt, a new emotion that Gyuvin hasn’t seen from him yet. He backs up against the rows of liquor and looks down at his feet. Minutes of silence go by, with Gyuvin sobbing and Ricky quietly observing. Unexpectedly, he takes a step forward and places a gentle hand on Gyuvin’s shoulder. The vault dweller shoves it away like it burns.

“I’m sorry,” Ricky whispers.

“Just stop talking.”

“I should have gone slower. I should have eased you into it without anger clouding my judgement.” Ricky leans down and peers at Gyuvin’s covered face. “Gyuvin? I’m sorry.”

“You don’t like me enough to even be sorry.” The vault dweller raises his head and makes direct eye contact with Ricky. “Besides, how can I even be mad at you? You’re the messenger.” A tear streaks down his face. “I just wish you were kinder.”

Silence again. Gyuvin notices that they’re eye to eye, bodies level. It’s the first time Gyuvin’s seen him like this— all gentle and genuine. In horror, Gyuvin realizes how much prettier Ricky is when he doesn’t see Gyuvin as a threat.

“I’m sorry.” He blinks very slowly. “Stay here for tonight,” he suddenly says.

Gyuvin hiccups and jumps out of his seat. “What?! Why?”

Ricky shakes his head. “Just take the room across from me. There’s fresh sheets and an extra set of pre-war clothing in the dresser.”

“Hours ago you didn’t even want to be near me.”

“When you wake up tomorrow, it will make sense. Just stay with me tonight and sleep.”

“Ricky— wait!” Gyuvin calls, stopping dead in his tracks as he watches the mysterious bartender disappear upstairs into his room. He does nothing but stare, allowing for a few minutes to pass before he sighs and makes his way up to the room across from Ricky’s.

He flops onto the bed and hopes that Moira won’t worry about him too much.

Sleep doesn’t come easy, but Gyuvin figures it will be his constant reality.

☢️

“Gyuvin."

Someone is gently shaking him awake. A familiar fragrance, a shadowy figure. Gyuvin cracks his eyes open and peers over at the window, noting that it’s not entirely light out yet. It must be early morning.

“Gyuvin,” the person calls again, this time a little louder. The vault dweller sits up and squints his eyes. He nearly screams at the sight in front of him.

“Sorry,” Ricky whispers, “I didn’t mean to scare you.” He’s wearing a large oversized T-shirt and sweats. Even with his hair tousled and his clothing grey, he still looks beautiful. Gyuvin backs up against the wall.

“Why…are you waking me up?”

Ricky kneels in front of him as to level their gazes. “I’m going with you.”

Gyuvin blinks in shock. “What?”

“I’m going with you.”

Gyuvin scrambles to his knees. “What are you talking about?! You can’t just leave here! Your whole family is here!”

Ricky sighs and slumps criss-crossed onto the floor. “I’ve made my decision. There is no one else here more fit to accompany you than me. Hao doesn’t have enough fighting experience, Hanbin is traumatized, and Jiwoong needs to look after the bar and my brother. I’m going with you.”

Gyuvin’s mouth hangs open. His stomach twists with guilt. “Ricky, no. Just let me go alone! I’ve already caused you enough problems! Please—” he’s stopped in his tracks when Ricky gently catches his wrist. His lips curl into an unexpected small smile.

“I miss the wasteland sometimes. It won’t take much to take you and drop you off.” He lowers Gyuvin’s wrists back to the bed. “Gather your things. We’re leaving once the sun comes up.”

Gyuvin ignores the pounding in his chest, not missing the way Ricky is still gripping onto his wrist. It’s warm and sturdy. He relaxes once Ricky finally pulls away.

“W-where are we going first?”

“GNR building. We’re paying The Brotherhood and the radio host a little visit.”

Gyuvin racks his brain, trying to remember information about both of these things. He recalls the voice of Three Dog on his Pip-Boy, talking all through the night. He also remembers the cautionary tale of The Brotherhood, noting that they don’t like civilians. Gyuvin takes one good look at Ricky and decides he’s anything but a regular civilian. He swings his legs over the bed and rubs his eyes.

“Are you sure about this?”

“I traveled across this country before the age of 16. I think I can handle tracking down your brother.” He abruptly heads back down the stairs to the main bar without saying another word.

Gyuvin thinks back to the conversation he heard with Ricky and the town sheriff. He realizes now what Lucas was talking about. He chases the bartender downstairs.

“What made you come to this conclusion?” He asks in exasperation, watching with pink cheeks as Ricky pulls off his t-shirt, revealing a black tank top underneath.

“You’re right. You don’t pose a threat.”

Gyuvin stares wide-eyed.

Ricky chuckles. “You couldn’t stop crying.”

Gyuvin scoffs, crossing his arms while heat rises to his cheeks. “That’s what convinced you?”

Ricky gives him a smug smile. “Your vault is nothing like 21. I know you’re not lying, either. You were shaking like a leaf.”

Gyuvin is almost taken aback by Ricky’s sudden friendliness. He thinks back to what the others had said— he’s sweet. He’ll warm up. But he’s still offended.

“I was not.”

Ricky grabs a duffle bag from the storage closet and throws it onto the bar counter. “I’ve done my fair share of interrogations, Gyuvin. I know when someone is lying. And you were shaking like a leaf.”

Gyuvin thinks for a moment and imagines it: the sleek bartender, with a weapon pressed up against a raider’s neck, bearing those dark eyes into the enemy’s soul and—

He pushes the thoughts away. They’re unnecessary for the journey.

“So you trust me? Now you trust me?” Gyuvin watches as Ricky zips back and forth across the bar, gathering supplies. The bartender turns to him and lazily shrugs.

“Not really. But I know you couldn’t take me if you tried.”

Gyuvin’s cheeks teem with heat as he steps back to make room for the energetic man. “Ricky,” he pauses for a moment, covering his face with his hands, “you’re giving me whiplash. Will you slow down?”

Ricky stops for a moment and gives Gyuvin a look. “Go get your stuff from Moira’s. Be back here in 10 minutes. I don’t want to be traveling past dusk halfway through the metro.”

Gyuvin gawks. “The metro?”

“Don’t tell me you don’t know what that is, either.”

Gyuvin shakes his head. “Christ, I’m not that stupid. But…wouldn’t that be more dangerous than just staying above the surface?”

“Half the city is caved in by rubble, Gyuvin. You can only get to certain places underground. No worries, just a few rogue raiders and feral ghouls.”

Gyuvin nearly screams. “A few?!”

Ricky smirks. “There’s a reason I’m going with you. We’ll be fine.” He zips up the first pouch on the duffle. “Besides, I’ve been through this route before. I know where I’m going. And you’ve got that handy Pip-Boy on you.”

Gyuvin looks down at his wrist, noting that the rest of his map past vault 134 and Megaton is completely blank aside from the major pre-loaded locations. He’ll have to slowly fill it out the farther they travel into The Capital. He hopes that he can still mark the underground locations, knowing there’s the possibility of getting lost.

“You seem adamant,” Gyuvin says as he moves towards the exit.

“Three Dog knows me. We’ll be fine.” And with that, Ricky ushers Gyuvin out the door.

He bursts through Craterside supply, finding that nearly everyone is crammed at the counter. Yujin gives him a confused look but the rest provide sympathetic smiles. Moira claps her hands together.

“Perfect, I have all your stuff right there,” she says cheerfully, patting Gyuvin’s knapsack. He stares at her, bewildered.

“What, you think we didn’t know what he decided?” She laughs, leaning back against the wall. “He told us last night when you went to sleep. We all agree this is the best option. Well— considering the ol’ sheriff is the very one that suggested this in the first place.”

Jiwoong shakes his head with a smile. “I don’t know what changed his mind. But I told you he’d cave.”

Hanbin and Hao give Gyuvin a warm smile.

“You’ll be safe with him, trust me,” Hanbin assures. “He took out the entire raider gang that came after me. I still don’t know how he did that.”

“He’s a Vegas kid,” Hao shrugs. “My boss says you don’t wanna fuck with anyone from The Strip. I’d hate to be his enemy.”

“If he has any enemies left,” Yujin giggles under his breath.

“Now, there’s a full first aid kit in there provided by Doc! A few pairs of clothes, your cleaned jumpsuit, and some canned food. You’ll be able to scavenge more on the way. If you come across raider camps, let Ricky take care of them so you can steal their stashes.”

“You say that like it’s easy,” Gyuvin mumbles.

Moira laughs. “Just wait till you see him in action.”

Stumbling, Gyuvin makes his way upstairs to scan for more items he may have forgotten. He hears the chattering of conversation downstairs, all excitement for Ricky getting back into action. Gyuvin can’t help but wonder how long Ricky has been settled down in Megaton— considering how young he is. How much did it take for a 16 year old to fight his way through the ruins and set up a whole business? Who raised him when no one else would?

By the time Gyuvin makes his way back to the bar after hugging everyone goodbye, Ricky is standing outside with his duffle bag and arms crossed. He’s wearing all black and militaristic armor. He yawns and steps forward.

“You’re late.”

“I got caught up gossiping about you.”

Ricky perks an eyebrow. “Is that right?”

Gyuvin swings his bag over his shoulder and tightens the bulletproof vest across his torso. “They tell me to trust you.”

“Do you?” Ricky smirks. It’s playful, but Gyuvin really thinks about it.

“Who knows, maybe you’ll kill me the second we step foot outside the gates. You wouldn’t have to hit very hard.”

Ricky’s eyes dart to the ground and he clears his throat. “You’ll learn a few things. In time, it’ll take more than one hit to kill you.”

They begin making their way towards the town entrance. “Does this mean you’ll train me?” Gyuvin asks, hope laced in his tone.

“You’ll learn,” Ricky answers, giving a curt nod to Lucas Simms standing right outside the gate. He approaches the two of them and puts a hand on Ricky’s shoulder. There’s a proud smile on his face.

“I’ll make sure the bar is taken care of. You stay safe out there, my son,” he pulls Ricky in for a tight hug then faces Gyuvin. “And you, vault dweller. If all goes wrong, you have a home here. Above all, may the ruins take you to your brother.”

Gyuvin nods and softly bows, proceeding to follow Ricky out through the front gates. His heart pumps with fear the moment his feet hit the rough pavement. He turns towards the bartender with wide eyes.

“How long till the metro?”

“It’s quite a walk. My goal is to get us through the first one before sundown. Then we’ll camp out somewhere downtown.”

Gyuvin nods. He quietly follows Ricky for a few minutes before he suddenly stops and swallows, watching over the tall frame of the man in front of him. Out of nowhere, inexplicable fear washes over him.

“Ricky?”

“Hm?” The bartender turns around. “Did you forget something?”

“You’re…not actually going to kill me, right?”

And there it is— laughter. Coming from the stoic, quiet man. Ricky smiles like he didn’t spend nearly two weeks hating Gyuvin’s guts, his teeth flashing and his shoulders bouncing. Gyuvin stares dumbfounded, unsure if the laughter is a confirmation or if he’s just asked the stupidest question on earth.

“You think I’m going to kill you?” Ricky asks, still grinning. “What would I gain from that?”

Gyuvin looks down at the ground and shrugs. “Getting rid of a burden.”

Ricky’s smile immediately falters. He steps closer to the vault dweller. “What if I told you I was looking for an excuse to go back out here?” Another step. “And don’t call yourself that or we’ll never find your brother.”

Gyuvin looks up and fights away the tears. He remembers Ricky’s words: you were shaking like a leaf. He doesn’t cry.

“Why would you want to leave Megaton?” Gyuvin inquires, continuing to follow behind. “You’ve built a family there.”

“I don’t think I was born to stay locked up behind walls all my life. I have a home I can come back to, that’s what matters.”

Gyuvin kicks a rock. “You want adventure?”

Ricky looks back and grins. “All kinds of adventure.”

“I hope you won’t regret going with me. I can’t promise an adventure, especially when I can barely fight,” Gyuvin sighs.

“What’d they teach you in those vaults? There must be something we can build on.”

Gyuvin racks his brain for a moment. Target practice (he hated it), sports (all contact, useless without a weapon), stamina training (he couldn’t even outrun a Deathclaw). He slowly pulls out the pistol from his holster, staring at the metal engravings.

“I don’t think I can use this thing very well. I missed the shots I took.” He places his finger on the trigger and taps it with a frown. “I don’t like the way it feels in my hand.”

Ricky scans him for a moment before pulling a weapon out of his duffle bag. “Here, you strike me as someone better with melee combat,” he hands Gyuvin a curved knife, one that’s neatly sheathed. “It was Hanbin’s.”

Gyuvin traces over the initials carved into the weapon with awe. “I can’t take this.”

“Keep it at your side. Show me you can use it.”

Gyuvin’s stomach twists with the thought. “I don’t want to kill anyone.”

“Believe me, that thought is going to change real quick. I don’t love the idea of having to end a life, too.” He takes a moment to allow Gyuvin to catch up with him. “But these humans— raiders, mercs, slavers— they don’t feel what we do. You cannot give mercy to those who would kill us in a second. Those sick freaks decorate their camps with the corpses of their victims.”

“But you gave mercy to Hanbin.”

“Hanbin was kidnapped and enslaved. If he was a real raider, he would have shot everyone at that bar the second he stepped foot in it.”

Gyuvin purses his lips. “I guess that’s true.” He still feels uneasy about having to defend himself, but he decides not to think about it too hard. Ricky wouldn’t hurt anyone that doesn’t deserve to be hurt.

The vault dweller doesn’t recognize the route they’re taking, realizing that he never should have stepped foot outside before asking anyone for advice. He’s nowhere near the Deathclaw attack or the gang of raiders that nearly killed him days ago. Instead, Ricky takes him through a second road farther away from the main one, looking both ways every few minutes or so. They travel in silence for the most part, with Gyuvin trudging along while thoughts swirl in his mind. He’s too afraid to walk side by side with Ricky, concerned that he should be watching his back the entire journey.

“You’re uneasy,” Ricky suddenly says after nearly two hours of trekking. He pulls a bottle of water out from his duffle and pops it open, handing it to Gyuvin. “Anything else on your mind? Not good to travel with heavy thoughts.”

Gyuvin sighs. “Lots, actually.”

“When approaching an enemy, remember one thing: if they show mercy, you show mercy. If they go for the throat, you go for the throat.” He turns around to face Gyuvin. “My end goal isn’t to kill, if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

Gyuvin slowly nods, sipping his water. “Is everyone an enemy?”

“Not everyone. Raiders, for the most part, yes. Some super mutants are tame— you’ll know which ones if they’re not firing missiles at you. Any kind of settlement we come across won’t attack first. Slavers? Well, I think they should all be in early graves. Scavengers? Good for trading.”

“And the creatures?”

“Don’t kill the Brahmin. That’s about it.”

Gyuvin purses his lips. “Are they mutated cattle?”

“Yep, with two heads.” Ricky smiles. “They’re really friendly.”

“What are super mutants?”

Ricky winces. “Mutated humans, like ghouls— but by unnatural forces. They were exposed to something called the forced evolutionary virus, turning them into a species of violent, brainless creatures. Not all of them lost their intelligence, however. You will find friendly mutants here and there.”

Gyuvin cocks his head. “How do you know all this? Does the average wastelander know this?”

Ricky shakes his head. “My family was part of a faction in New California. The Shi, known for advanced research after the bombs dropped. I’m not supposed to know all this outside of those walls. But I do.”

Gyuvin narrows his eyes and thinks. “New California? Aren’t you from New Vegas?”

Ricky nods. “My parents owned a casino there until they didn’t. Being away from the faction turned a profit until Mr. House, the corrupt leader of New Vegas, shut them down and took over. A dictator disguised as a mayor.”

“What happened to them? Your parents?” Gyuvin asks, hopeful that he’s not pushing his luck. Ricky only shrugs nonchalantly.

“Who knows. But at least I took this knowledge with me.”

Gyuvin takes it as a hint to not press any further. He softly smiles to himself. “I’m glad you chose to go with me instead of anyone else.”

Ricky chuckles. “A little cruel, isn’t it? I’d rather you be with someone not cursed with so much truth. Maybe then it’d be a little easier on you.”

“I’d have to face things at some point.”

Silence falls over the two of them once more, the sun bearing down on their bodies. Gyuvin feels much more comfortable now that Ricky doesn’t seem to have an issue with him anymore. Over the past two weeks, he’d never believed he would once see Ricky crack a smile. His heart grows warm, happy that he was allowed slivers of Ricky’s past-life. He looks at the back of the bartender’s frame and grins.

Their first run-in with an enemy isn’t too memorable. Gyuvin watches in awe as Ricky takes perfect shots at a series of Radscorpions and Bloatflies. He’s even able to test out his handy new knife, immediately liking the feeling much more than holding a gun. He can control himself easier and prefers to duck and strike instead of run and shoot. His chest swells with pride when he kills a Radscorpion by himself, watching Ricky’s smile from the corner of his eye.

The sky begins to darken once they’ve finally reached the inner Capital City. Gyuvin feels his limbs begin to tire and his eyes begin to droop. Thankfully, Ricky makes a decision before he can begin to complain.

“There, up ahead. First metro entrance.” He turns around and squints at the sky. “We’re gonna have to bite the bullet and go in, anyway. Make sure you keep on high alert down there. Population? Feral ghouls.”

Gyuvin silently nods and scrambles after Ricky as he makes his way down the metro stairwell. It’s cold and damp, nothing that Gyuvin wasn’t expecting. But the walls are eerily silent and he can see remnants of fallen enemies scattered among the floor. There are abandoned bathrooms and Nuka-Cola vending machines at the beginning entrance, their lights flashing on and off with residual power. It smells something akin to rotting eggs and a swamp.

The first ghoul doesn’t take them by surprise. Gyuvin hears the horrific snapping of its teeth moments before it lunges for his side. He swipes by instinct, watching as the skeleton-like creature flies back with a growl. He’s fought them before and finds confidence in this, keeping his stance as Ricky stays close to him.

“Good,” the bartender whispers in his ear, his hands hovering over Gyuvin’s waist. “Keep this position. Don’t let him scare you, it’s not a strong one.” The proximity between them momentarily makes Gyuvin falter in his steps, nearly getting bitten the moment the ghoul springs back up to tear into his skin. Panicked, he swings again and watches as the creature collapses onto the tunnel ground.

His breath hitches as he stumbles back.

“Good. A little distracted, but good,” Ricky assures him. “They’re fast. Don’t forget that.”

Gyuvin swallows and repeatedly nods, readjusting his grip on the knife and squinting his eyes. The next one is glowing green and much faster, galloping on all fours towards his vicinity. Ricky curses under his breath and pushes Gyuvin to the side of him.

“Shit, glowing one.” Ricky’s reaction time is undeniably impressive, whipping out his weapon and firing two rounds into the glowing one’s chest as it screeches in pain. Breathless, Gyuvin latches onto Ricky’s free arm as the bartender aims his gun at the next ghoul barreling towards them. It’s dead as soon as Ricky fires.

The three ghouls lay lifeless on the ground, the tunnels returning to the unsettling quietude. Gyuvin glances over to where he’s still holding onto Ricky’s arm, a small gasp leaving his lips. He lets go and awkwardly shuffles away.

“Scared?” Ricky smirks.

“No!”

“You’re shaking again. But you took the first enemy. Good job.”

Horrified, Gyuvin looks down at his trembling legs. There’s residual specks of glowing goo all over his trousers. He kicks it away in disgust.

“They come in waves and in groups. Never just one at a time. Glowing ones are dangerous, and reavers are the most dangerous. Bullet sponges. If we ever get caught up with one of those fuckers, our best bet is to snipe from a distance.”

“You’ve killed them before?”

Ricky nods, motioning for Gyuvin to follow him deeper into the dark metro. He reloads his gun and tucks it back into his belt. “They’re a bitch, even for me.”

Gyuvin swallows and decides not to ask any more questions, afraid of the answers. The grip he has on Hanbin’s knife begins to feel sweaty in his palms. He briefly scans his surroundings until he feels safe enough to sheathe the blade.

Deeper into the station, the only things that appear on their path are handfuls of Radroaches and Molerats. They maneuver their way in between broken down trains and barrels full of all kinds of sickening contents. Every so often, one will be blazing with fire. Gyuvin shudders, wondering just how many people have died down there. His underground was much prettier than this.

Yawning, Gyuvin checks his Pip-Boy. Nearly 9 pm, just after dusk. They pass a few more fallen trains before Gyuvin finally speaks up.

“Can we sleep?” He slowly blinks, watching as Ricky’s tall frame turns around.

“Sure. We’ll need an early start tomorrow, anyway.” He looks behind him and frowns. “Not ideal to stop in the metro, but you’re still in recovery. I’ll take the first watch.” Ricky continues a little further into the tunnels before entering a small control room, complete with busted electronics inside.

“We’ll be safe in here?” Gyuvin asks, plopping his duffle onto the ground.

“We’re never really safe out here. But there’s a door, which is the best we can do right now. I’ll sleep against it in case someone decides to open it and kill us.”

It’s meant to be a joke, but Gyuvin stares with terrified eyes. Ricky smiles again. Gyuvin thinks for a fleeting second that fighting off feral ghouls and getting covered in radioactive slime is worth a single smile from the bartender.

“I’m kidding.”

With his nerves simmering down, Gyuvin pulls out a thin blanket from his duffle and lays it on the floor of the tiny room. He gives it a look and frowns, tilting his head.

“There’s not much room in here.”

“We’ll fit,” Ricky assures, joining Gyuvin on the floor. He rests his back against the door and briefly closes his eyes, taking in a deep breath. “I’m not tired. I’ll let you sleep for longer.”

“You’ve been leading us all day. You should sleep more.”

Ricky cracks open one eye. “I’m also the one who knows where we’re going. I’ll be fine.”

“But—”

“Don’t be difficult, vaultie. A ghoul could hear your yawns from a mile away.”

Gyuvin’s face goes bright red. Defeated, he slumps against his duffle and turns away from Ricky’s infuriating presence. Silence eats away at the small room for a few minutes, with Gyuvin doing his best to get comfortable on the concrete floor. He shifts around and groans, tugging his thin jacket around his body.

“Here,” Ricky says from behind, throwing him his own jacket. “I don’t need it, anyway.”

Grumbling, Gyuvin mutters a thanks and wastes no time before tucking the extra warmth around his frame. Unsurprisingly, it smells like traces of whiskey and Ricky’s pleasant smell. He chooses to ignore the latter.

“Better?” Ricky inquires, tapping Gyuvin’s shoulder.

“Better,” Gyuvin whispers.

The vault dweller squeezes his eyes shut and does his best to succumb to sleep. But like most nights, it doesn’t come easily. It’s one thing to be embroiled in thoughts of his brother, but another to be in such close proximity to the man that hated him just days prior. Even his breathing is distracting, his chest rising and falling so calmly. Gyuvin can’t quite compute how one can get used to living like this.

“Ricky?”

“Hm?”

“Nothing.”

“You just don’t stop talking, do you?”

Gyuvin sighs. “Sorry, I can’t sleep.”

“And talking helps?”

“It does. It’s how Taerae would put me to sleep.”

“Taerae?” Ricky hums. “That’s the first time you’ve mentioned your brother’s name.”

Gyuvin rolls back around to face the bartender. “He would tell me stories that happened before the war. Old tales. Some of them were meant to scare me to sleep, but most of them made me excited.” He finds himself smiling once more.

Ricky tilts his head before he speaks, studying the shadows dancing on Gyuvin’s face.

“You’re much braver than you give yourself credit for.”

Gyuvin looks up, not expecting those words to come from Ricky’s lips. The bartender is staring at him with a gentle expression, his arms crossed and his hair falling loosely over his forehead. Gyuvin half expects Ricky’s smile to falter when their eyes meet. But it doesn’t.

“So start talking.”

Flustered, Gyuvin asks his first question. “Why a bar? You’re so young.”

“It’s what I knew. I learned from a young age how to mix drinks. Side jobs for sketchy and powerful people on The Strip while my parents were busy with their own clients. Easiest way to get caps.”

Gyuvin hums. “Your brother. How did he become…your brother?”

“Loads of kids grow up orphaned on The Strip or in Freeside, just outside of Vegas. Yujin wasn’t the only one, but he was the most clever. Watched him from afar, how he swindled adults and gave them a run for their caps,” a proud smile forms on his lips. “Sometimes I think maybe he never needed my help.”

“And you took him with you?”

“I did. Thought he’d be a good companion. Didn’t realize how badly I needed a brother.” He shifts on the floor. “After my parents went missing and the casino was seized, I thought I’d be okay on my own. In a way, he healed a lot of what was broken inside.”

Gyuvin slowly nods his head. They have this in common.

“How’d you survive the wasteland so young?”

Ricky shrugs. “Growing up in Vegas had other benefits. My parents wouldn’t let me go anywhere unless I was armed. We had all kinds of early training in the faction, too. Just because I was away from the headquarters didn’t mean I was exempt from Shi excellence. I could always fight. Even when I didn’t want to.”

Gyuvin wonders what age Ricky was forced to lose his innocence. “Why Megaton?”

“Boy, you just don’t stop.” A small chuckle escapes Ricky’s lips. “Wasn’t always there. Yujin and I spent time in different settlements across the nation before we found Megaton. The Capital Wasteland just happened to be the first place someone took us in.”

“Who?”

“Lucas. Town sheriff. You know the guy.”

“Ah,” Gyuvin whispers, recalling the moment the sheriff had tightly hugged Ricky before sending him off. No wonder.

“Wasn’t just him. My bar wasn’t always my bar. I took over what used to be the saloon. A man named Colin Moriarty polished my skills, took me under his wing. When I was 19, he up and left for a trade deal. Never came back.”

Gyuvin feels the sadness emanating from the boy’s tall frame. How many people in the wasteland truly stay?

“You’ve lived a dozen lifetimes.”

“That’s pretty standard here.” Ricky yawns. “You get used to it. Rebuild, redo, reload.” He stays silent for a moment. “And what about you? Mr. goody-two-shoes vaultie. Do all of you have the same lore?”

Gyuvin’s mind swims with painful memories. “We were all from different cultures, religions, countries. Generations of people that could speak multiple languages and appreciate the beauty of differences. I realize now how that could have been a nightmare. Vault-Tec had so little hope in humanity.” He steadies his breathing before continuing. “There was nothing special about my childhood. We all grow up taking the same classes, learning about the bombs and the war. We have mandatory exercising on Sundays, government-assigned job positions, important community meetings every Friday.”

“Such discipline,” Ricky comments in disbelief. “No crime?”

“None. Strictly outlawed, forbidden. If my mother— I mean The Overseer ever caught you in a lie, you’d be scrubbing the toilets by morning.”

Ricky’s eyes shoot open and he leans forward. “I’m sorry, who is The Overseer?”

Gyuvin’s mouth goes dry. He hates the idea of giving Ricky another reason to not trust him. But he wasn’t taught to be anything but truthful. “My mother. The Overseer.” He notes Ricky’s shock and keeps going. “She wasn’t always The Overseer. They voted her in when I was 12…two months after my dad, the original Overseer, passed away. I’m not sure how the voting system works. She’d been in power ever since.”

Ricky’s eyes shift to the ground. He purses his lips and appears lost on what to say.

“I don’t like her. If you’re wondering.”

Ricky perks an eyebrow. “You hate The Overseer? Isn’t that a crime in itself?”

“She didn’t care that her own son escaped the vault. He wasn’t going to be allowed back in.” Anger fills Gyuvin’s heart. He clenches his fists together. “No investigations, no questions, no nothing. Her own son.”

“Do you think she knows why he left?” Ricky asks.

“I hate to think about it. Like my own family is comfortable keeping secrets from me. The only people that leave the vault are voted out for the purpose of returning with research. Taerae wasn’t one of those people.”

Ricky narrows his eyes. “Voted out?”

Gyuvin nods and yawns, his speech pattern growing sloppy. “Every year, the council chooses someone over the age of 25 to leave the vault and return with organic samples. My best friend’s brother went years ago but never came back. But he’s not dead, he sends letters every now and then.”

Ricky’s face contorts with confusion, his posture straightening right up. “Are you sure that he’s st—” he abruptly stops, watching the way Gyuvin’s eyes struggle to stay open, “nevermind.” He gives it a few seconds, inspecting the vault dweller’s face just a little closer until he’s sure that Gyuvin is on his way to sleep.

“Right,” Ricky mutters under his breath. “Talking helps you sleep.” He presses his back against the door and stretches his arms. “We’ll talk in the morning.”

Lost in a trance, Gyuvin finally finds the peace to drift away.

For once, he doesn’t have nightmares.

☢️

“Rise and shine, vaultie. The GNR building won’t walk its way to us.”

Gyuvin slowly opens his eyes, wincing at the uncomfortable position his body is currently in. He feels Ricky’s thigh up against the back of his head, his legs tangled together with the bartender’s discarded jacket. He cracks his neck and begrudgingly pulls himself from the floor, rubbing the sleep away.

“It’s…my turn to watch,” he mumbles under his breath. Ricky scoffs in response.

“You really think you woke up in time for that?”

Instantaneously, Gyuvin’s eyes shoot open. “What?!” He scrambles to turn on his Pip-Boy, realizing in horror that it’s nearly 8 am. “Why didn’t you wake me up?!”

Ricky puts on that same smirk. “You were exhausted.”

“But you must be as well!”

“You severely doubt my wastelander skills.” His eyes trail up and down Gyuvin’s concerned face. “I’m fine, Gyuvin. I took intermittent naps. Plenty for me.”

The vault dweller gently slaps Ricky’s shoulder. “Stop that! I can handle a watch! Wake me up next time for god’s sake!”

Ricky rolls his eyes. “You need rest more than I do. In time, you’ll attune your body to the wastes. Stop complaining and let’s get moving. We’re almost to the other side and I don’t feel like waking up anymore ghouls right now.”

Defeated, Gyuvin grumbles and shoves the thin blanket and jacket into his duffle bag before tossing it over his shoulder. Within minutes, they’re heading out the door and back into the damp walls of the station. Still waking up, Gyuvin can’t help but squeak at the sudden attack of Radroaches that clamber around his feet. He stomps on them with annoyance, eliciting a chuckle from Ricky. He ignores it and the pleasant way it sounds.

Ricky wasn’t lying when he said they were almost out of the metro. After clearing another round of pesky Molerats, the two emerge out of another stairwell and back into the light. Squinting, Gyuvin relives the moment he saw the sun for the first time.

“Too bright.”

“Anything is too bright for a vaultie, I’d imagine. Didn’t you have artificial suns down there? Projectors? Anything to replicate the real world?”

Gyuvin wipes the sweat from his forehead. “Something like that. We had a room dedicated to growing crops. Had a barn backdrop and a few paintings of suns. Nothing like the real deal, though.”

They begin making their way through the downtown ruins. Moira had informed Gyuvin about the super mutant problem all throughout The Capital, warning of their giant green bodies and violent minigun warfare. He shakes the thought away and finds solace in Ricky’s experience.

“You like it, then?” Ricky asks, clearing rocks from their path.

“The sun?”

“Yeah. Is it everything you’d hoped for and more?”

Gyuvin’s eye twitches. “It’s horrid and hot. And it burns.”

Ricky giggles. “You’ll get used to it. Maybe even miss it when the green fog rolls in.”

“And those are even worse.” Gyuvin cringes, recalling the radstorm hallucinations that haunted his dreams back in Moira’s guest bedroom. “The vault never taught us about that.”

“Course not. Bet they didn’t even tell you that civilization was just miles above you, either.”

“The plan is to build stronger and better generations until we’re ready to resurface and repopulate.” Gyuvin narrows his eyes at Ricky’s figure. “Clearly, that plan has already failed.”

“Terrible that people like me already exist up here, isn’t it?” Ricky jokes, kicking a rock. “Wait till they find out that my body was born irradiated. You can put that handy geiger up to my beating heart and listen to it tick like a clock.”

Gyuvin frowns. “Don’t say that.”

Ricky abruptly turns around. “Why not? Don’t believe me?”

“No, it’s just that sounds so ho—”

“Here,” Ricky says, stepping closer and pointing to his chest. “Go on. I don’t bite.”

Well, not anymore you don’t, Gyuvin thinks to himself. Curiosity burns within him as he gingerly steps forward and clicks on his geiger counter, holding his wrist up to Ricky’s chest. Warmth wraps around his hand as Ricky pulls him closer.

“Right against it,” Ricky whispers, the Pip-Boy settling next to his heart.

Slowly but surely, the Pip-Boy gives off soft ticks. A constant rhythm, replicating his heartbeat. Gyuvin gasps and steps back in shock, pulling away from Ricky’s body. The bartender gives him a small smirk and crosses his arms over his chest.

“I wasn’t lying.”

“I…didn’t think it worked like that.”

“We all have it in us. But you?” Ricky closes their distance again and pushes Gyuvin’s wrist to his own heart. No ticks. Gyuvin looks up from his Pip-Boy to the burning stare of Ricky.

“See? Pure. All of you.” He smiles and steps back, turning on his heels to continue walking forward. Gyuvin collects himself and shakes his head, stumbling after the bartender.

“You better avoid any other wasteland doctor than ours. You’re a medical anomaly out here. They’ll wanna stick all kinds of needles in that perfect head of yours.”

Perfect?

“They wouldn’t find anything interesting.”

“Maybe not. But they’d still lock you up and throw away the key.”

“Good thing Moira found me first.”

Ricky laughs. “She’s a freak, too. Has she not yapped about her wasteland survival guide project to you? Asking every stranger on the street to go out and use all her wacky experimental weapons and come back with information they nearly died for?” He shakes his head. “She had me go out and hit Molerats over the head with a useless repellent stick. Useless!”

Gyuvin cracks up as they hop over a broken street lamp. “What’s the point?”

“The survival guide is meant to be published as a self-help book in the wasteland. Info on creatures, fighting, and supplies. Honestly, not a bad idea. Terrible execution, however.”

Gyuvin giggles, noting how easy it is to fall into conversation with Ricky despite their rocky beginnings. He notices the little things, too. How Ricky’s eyes crinkle when he grins, the way his cheeks puff up, the way that same strand of hair falls over the right side of his forehead. Still, he isn’t quite sure what exactly made Ricky crack. He’d done his best to leave him alone for the days he spent alone recovering in town. No one in the vaults had ever approached him quite so coldly before. No one had taught him how to deal with stoic bartenders that glare at you from afar.

“What was it like? In Vegas?” Gyuvin asks as they make considerable leeway through the rubble.

“Again with the questions. Is that all you think about? Extracting my lore?”

Gyuvin’s cheeks burn with embarrassment. “Sorry. It’s my first time on soil, mind you. God forbid I learn about what’s gone on up here for the past 200 years.”

“Fair enough. What do you want to know?”

“What made it so dangerous?”

Ricky stops to take a drink from his water bottle. “Lots of warring factions and gangs. Lots of corrupt brotherhood members. Lots of violence over losing caps and power. Mr. House— that asshole that runs the place with all his protective bots and ‘law.’ Anything that makes a town dangerous exists on those streets. Outside of Vegas? Wild wild west. The Mojave looks like a pre-war cowboy ghost town.”

Gyuvin silently nods. “More horrors?”

“Giant praying mantises and spore people that lunge at you from the bushes. And Cazadors, god those gross insects that pump your blood full of venom.”

Gyuvin shudders at the thought. He can barely handle the Bloatflies. “Do you miss it?”

“I miss my parents. Wish I knew what Mr. House did to them. Wish I’d been kept closer to the faction instead of stationed on The Strip. But then again, I don’t regret adopting my brother and moving somewhere peaceful. I don’t regret bringing this knowledge with me, either. Traversing across the nation is rare these days. Folks up north don’t know what goes on down south. That’s the best part of my journey.”

Gyuvin nods in awe. Knowledge is power. Ricky is full of it.

“But not The Strip?”

“God no. Horrible place to be without protection. If you ask me, gambling has no place in the apocalypse. There are more pressing matters. But humans will be humans and addiction follows us everywhere.”

“I could write a textbook with the information I’ve learned since I’ve been up here. Hasn’t even been a month yet.”

“Don’t pay too close attention to time. Doesn’t matter much.”

Gyuvin peeks at his Pip-Boy and nods, realizing he might be one of the only people in the wastes with access to a calendar. He checks the map too, marking the major abandoned buildings they’ve passed and creating a clear pathway in case he ever needs to travel this road alone.

Gyuvin figures they did most of the traveling yesterday, considering how much slower Ricky seems to be moving. They don’t seem to run into many enemies besides the occasional giant ant and Bloatfly, either. Even the super mutants don’t seem to be lurking, perhaps stationed in the more open areas of downtown. They don’t even encounter raiders.

For once, Gyuvin doesn’t mind the trek. He can appreciate the lasting aesthetics of a pre-war, retro-futuristic world instead of fighting for his life. He enjoys the hand-drawn art of the Nuka-Cola posters and remnants of movie posters scattered across the land. All vault dwellers know the very day the bombs dropped— Oct 23rd, just a week before Halloween. As a result, he still catches the occasional pumpkin sitting in shop windows, never getting to see the joy of trick or treating. They celebrated Holidays in the vaults, allowing Gyuvin to participate in a multitude of different cultural celebrations. He smiles fondly at the memory of Marcel handing him a bag of candy after the 31st of October every year. He never participated in Halloween, his heart aching with regret.

Peace, however, doesn’t seem to come naturally to Gyuvin. Half a mile away from the massive building in their distance, the two men begin to feel the earth shake beneath them. Gyuvin’s stomach twists in horror as he realizes what they might be encountering. Deathclaw. Big and ugly, its teeth baring all sorts of hunger. A wave of nausea washes over the vault dweller as Ricky grips onto him with fervor.

“Stay behind me.”

“Forgive me if I die. God help us if it’s another fucking Deathclaw,” Gyuvin pants, his hand finding his blade. Ricky shakes his head and brings a finger to his lips.

“Not a Deathclaw. Absolutely way too loud for a Deathclaw.”

Gyuvin’s mouth drops in horror. “You’re telling me shit gets bigger than that thing?!”

Ricky gives him a weak smile. “Always a bigger fish.”

Another wave of trembles. The two men nearly collapse on top of one another, scrambling for any kind of purchase. The tremors are accompanied by a roaring sound— a deep voice, one that’s muttering all kinds of nonsense.

“Ah, fuck,” Ricky curses. “It better not be what I think it is.”

“Jesus christ please tell me what you think it is,” Gyuvin squeezes his eyes shut as another quake rocks through his body.

“Didn’t think they were still around. Those behemoth—”

He’s cut off by a chorus of gunshots and loud yelling directly in front of them, footsteps that echo off the cracking pavement. The large creature screeches and finally reveals itself, all 20 feet of him. A grotesque and sickly green humanoid carrying a humongous spiked bat. Gyuvin slaps a hand over his mouth as Ricky yanks him up from the ground.

“Super mutant. Behemoth fucking super mutant.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Gyuvin wails. It would be comedic if his life wasn’t already at stake again.

Ricky steadies them enough for the next tremors, pulling out his gun and double-checking that the barrel is full. His eyes travel over to the horde of armored individuals wildly shooting at the behemoth creature. He clicks his tongue.

“Well. Good news and bad news. Good news, we are just outside the GNR building. Bad news, The Brotherhood is currently getting their ass handed to them by this abomination.”

“The Brotherhood?” Gyuvin asks, squinting in the distance.

The armored men are covered from head to toe in pre-war military suits that Gyuvin immediately recognizes as combat infantry protection created after the Battle of Anchorage. Heavy metal power armor that serves as the ultimate definition of advanced technology. He had no idea they’d still be in use during the apocalypse. His mouth gapes in fascination as The Brotherhood of Steel moves forward to surround the behemoth, firing round after round. They do enough damage for the behemoth to fall back for a few seconds before it roars again, stomping its terrible awful feet into the pavement.

“Can’t we help them?!” Gyuvin shouts over the commotion. Ricky looks at him like he’s insane.

“You want to help them?! This is worse than a Deathclaw!”

Curse his instilled vault-taught moral compass. Gyuvin unsheathes his dagger. “We can’t just stand here and do nothing.”

Ricky sighs and grabs his wrist. “Alright. But don’t you start running back when that thing’s foot comes for our heads.”

Nodding, Gyuvin dashes forward to the gaggle of brotherhood members valiantly fighting off the creature. There’s a sudden surge of confidence in his bones, a bounce in his step. Somehow, he trusts he can be successful with Ricky at his side. He, however, also notes that a melee weapon is absolutely futile in this battle.

“Civilian, stay back!” A Brotherhood member calls, putting his hand out in front of Gyuvin. “You’re in the danger zone!”

Ricky slides past them, landing a perfect hit on the behemoth’s ankle. “Not civilians, thank you very much.” He lands another two on the super mutant’s left toe. “You need all the backup you can get from what I see.”

The Brotherhood member stares for a moment, likely in confusion. He quickly returns to battle when the behemoth bashes his spiked bat into a nearby bridge. From here, Gyuvin silently cusses and pulls out the accursed 10mm pistol buried in his jacket. Shakily, he aims as best as he can. The majority of his shots ricochet off the enemy’s bat but enough hit him in the leg. His reload speed is terrible, making it known to The Brotherhood members that he’s anything but trained. He can barely keep up with his bartending companion, watching him bounce back and forth with the most precise hits he’s ever seen. Not even Marcel could rival those skills.

After rounds and rounds of ammo, Gyuvin assumes that the mutant has to be falling low on health. Its movements become sloppy and heavy, the bat swinging around with no direction in sight. There’s a moment where he thinks it’s going to fall— until it aggressively turns its attention directly towards Ricky’s vicinity. With wide eyes, Gyuvin trips over his own feet to Ricky’s side, dragging him away from the massive bat that’s ready to crash down upon them. He can feel the bat hovering just above their bodies, threatening to crush them into little pieces. He yelps as a pair of metal hands grab onto his arm and yank him away with a force that aches.

Behind them, a crashing sound reverberates through the ground. The noise momentarily quiets down, with Gyuvin breathing heavily on top of something uncomfortably cold and hard. He groans, feeling his way for Ricky’s presence beside him. He feels him instantly and breathes out a sigh of relief.

“You guys okay?!” The voice below them squeaks.

Bewildered, Gyuvin clambers off whoever he’s fallen on top of. Ricky follows after, the two of them jumping to each other’s side in surprise. There, lying on the ground is a single Brotherhood Knight, completely sprawled out on the floor.

“This is embarrassing, but I might need some help getting up,” the Knight speaks, the voicebox in his helmet slightly altering his tone. “These damn suits are really, really heavy.”

The two men look at each other in confusion before offering a hand to The Brotherhood member. He latches onto them and groans as he lifts his massive armored body from off the ground. Standing upright, he towers over the two of them. Suddenly, his helmet slides back to reveal a friendly face.

“Hi there. Sorry for the scare. But are you civilians okay?”

Gyuvin blinks, taken aback by the friendliness. He wasn’t expecting to encounter someone nice today. “We’re…fine. Are you okay? You just saved us from imminent death.”

The stranger waves his hand. “Oh me? You know, it happens all the time. The woes of being a Knight and all.” He smiles proudly, putting his hands on his hips. “Newly dubbed Knight, that is.”

Ricky cracks a smile. “Your name?”

“Ah! Right. Gunwook! Knight Gunwook. Some of the brothers call me Gunner, or Wookie. Used to be Wookie Rookie but I don’t like that one as much.” He salutes them. “Happy to be of service to the wasteland civilians!”

Gyuvin immediately likes his bubbly personality. “Thanks for saving us. Not sure anything could have stopped that bat from coming down. You’ve done your duty, Knight Gunwook.”

The boy beams with pride.

“Ah, do you think you can escort us into the GNR building?” Ricky hesitantly asks. “We’re not exactly…civilians per se. I’m traveling with highly valuable cargo…” he leans into Gunwook’s space and whispers, “a real-life vault dweller.”

Gunwook gasps and covers his mouth. “A real one?! They’re alive?!”

Ricky grins as Gyuvin shoots him a glare. “Sure are. Right here in the flesh.”

“I cannot be that much of a goddamn rarity,” Gyuvin rolls his eyes. “You surface dwellers have no manners.”

Gunwook bows his head. “My apologies, civilian. I’ll take you into the building right away. Is Three Dog expecting you?”

“No, but he knows me,” Ricky grins. “I’ve been this way before. The Brotherhood’s presence is new to me, though.”

“Ah,” Gunwook clasps his metal hands together. “We’re stationed here to protect the radio broadcasting site in exchange for a perfectly good strategic outpost as well as a base of operations. Good deal, if you ask me. Three Dog is real nice and friendly. And he fights the good fight!”

Gyuvin smiles as the three make their way through the post-battlefield debris. Thankfully, it doesn’t look like any Brotherhood members were lost during the behemoth fight. None of them seem to pay any mind to Ricky and Gyuvin’s presence, either. Despite the grey ruins, Gyuvin marvels at the massive building in front of them— the words GNR printed in gold letters.

“Galaxy News Radio existed pre-war?” Gyuvin asks as they step past the double doors.

Gunwook nods. “Sure did! Was more of just a news channel…repurposed after Three Dog found his way here. Great way to get in touch with travelers nowadays and keep up with the news that travels along the east coast. Sometimes we call wastelanders to our base for recruitments, too. Thanks to Three Dog, we’ve been able to build quite the faction.”

Gyuvin nods as they pass a series of Brotherhood guards that give them a nod. He wonders if any of them recognize Ricky’s intimidating presence as anything but a normal civilian. He carries himself like he’s lived two different decades, like he’s survived through the bombs himself. Undeniable confidence follows him everywhere.

“He’s up the stairs in the room to the right. I’ll let the Paladins know that there’s a vault dweller in our presence. Three Dog loves vault dwellers, by the way.”

“Really?” Gyuvin perks up like an excited puppy. Gunwook nods.

“It was a vault dweller that manufactured clean water for The Capital City, anyway. Three Dog had a part in that. To him, you’re like a dying breed of hero.”

Gyuvin remembers Lucas mentioning this back in Megaton. He’ll have to ask about it when he gets the chance.

Ricky playfully rolls his eyes. “Hero in training. He’s not quite there yet.”

Gyuvin shoves him with his shoulder as they make their way up the stairs. Immediately, they hear the crackle of a microphone directly to their right. Sure enough, a lone man sits at the control center, animatedly speaking into the worn-down microphone. His cadence is addicting, his exuberance infectious. Gyuvin’s lips tug into a smile. Two different nice people today.

The radio host sees them as soon as they enter the doorway, stopping mid-sentence to gawk at them. He scans over their bodies before jumping up from his seat, telling his listeners that he’ll be right back.

“Ricky?! No kidding! Is that you?! Ricky Shen?” He smiles wide, a neatly-cut goatee hanging just below his lips. He’s younger than Gyuvin expected, probably no less than 30.

“Holy shit!” He immediately pulls Ricky in for a hug. “Haven’t seen you since you were a kid, kid! What’s got you back up here?” He laughs, the excitement emanating from his body.

Ricky giggles and pushes Gyuvin forward like he’s a trophy. “A vault dweller for you. Alive. Healthy. Ready to do good.”

Gyuvin grumbles a complaint. “I’m Gyuvin. And I’d like for my counterpart to stop acting like I’m not right beside him,” he whips around, glaring at a grinning Ricky. The bartender puts his hands up in defense.

“Well alright! What a treat. What brings you into the GNR building?” Three Dog asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

“I’m looking for my brother. The people in Megaton said you might know something, since you hear word of what goes around in The Capital Wasteland.”

Three Dog strokes his goatee and hums. “He got a name?”

“Taerae. Brown hair, Asian, probably wearing a lab coat and glasses. Or at least that’s how I remember him,” Gyuvin sadly recalls.

Three Dog sits back down at his broadcasting chair. “Not sure if that rings a bell. But I can ask around The Brotherhood. People don’t just come and go here without leaving an impression. Somebody’s gotta know something.”

“He’s a scientist. A medical professional. Vault dweller. All of the above.”

Three Dog snaps his fingers. “Scientist? Well now that does help me out a bit.”

“It does?! What do you know?!” Gyuvin exclaims.

“Now, I know nothin’ of the fella you’re referring to, but I know some scientists. Hate to send you away on another trekkage, kid, but you’d be better off tracking down Dr. Li in Rivet City.”

“Dr. Li?” Gyuvin asks.

“Yeah, head scientist at the Rivet City labs. Real fancy over there with hydroponics and portable fusion power and yada yada. She was connected with the folks over in vault 101 a few years back. If anyone knows anyone science-related, it’s that woman.”

Ricky cocks his head. “I know of her. Read some of her letters to the Shi faction back in Vegas. She was the lead in the water purification project, right?”

Three Dog nods. “Oh yeah, real hero up here. Hard to get a hold of her sometimes, you know how Rivet City security functions these days with all these super mutant pop-ups.”

Gyuvin turns to Ricky with wide eyes. “How far is Rivet City from here?”

Three Dog laughs. “Slow down, kid. Just a little farther down south. It’s a massive, dry-docked aircraft carrier with its whole atmosphere goin’ on. You can’t miss it. Biggest wasteland residence in D.C.”

“Can we get there by today?” Gyuvin’s eyes are wide and glossy. Ricky places a gentle hand on his shoulder and shakes his head.

“Calm down, Gyuvin. We’ve only just reached the GNR building. Don’t you remember what almost killed us 20 minutes ago? We can take our time.”

Gyuvin pouts and lets his head fall against Ricky’s chest. “What if there’s no time? What if he’s already gone?” Ricky sighs and places his hand on the back of Gyuvin’s head, giving his hair a ruffle.

“Don’t think like that. We’ll never find him with those thoughts.”

“The wasteland isn’t easy to get around, kid. Doesn’t matter how good your brother is at combat or survival. Nobody ever gets very far from home without a whole lotta trouble first,” Three Dog assures. “Plus, I’d have heard of a dead vault dweller by now, believe me. That’s not news you pass up.”

“Hey,” Ricky says, patting Gyuvin’s cheek, “we’ll get to Rivet City by tomorrow. For now, let’s strategize and rest.”

“There’s an extra bedroom down the hall. You’re free to crash here,” Three Dog offers. “Would love to know what else you’re up to these days, Ricky. You know, besides bussing vault dwellers around.” He erupts into laughter.

“I’ll head back here after we settle our things to chat. You’re not missing much, Three Dog. I’ve just come out of adventure-retirement at the age of 21.”

Three Dog slaps his knee. “Sounds like a Vegas kid!” He turns his attention back to Gyuvin. “Don’t sweat it, kid. Vault dwellers are no weaklings. Your brother is definitely alive and well, probably cooking up new ways to save the wastes.” He winks.

Nodding his head, Gyuvin makes his way to the guest bedroom and tosses his duffle on the ground. Ricky quickly follows after him, right on his heels.

“You alright?”

“Never better,” Gyuvin sniffs. “You’re right, all I ever do is cry.”

He misses his brother, he misses his vault, he misses home-cooked food from Marcel’s parents and streaming bowls of kimchi jjigae. The wasteland is unforgiving and drab, with only remnants of what was once a flourishing culture. Gyuvin’s heart is too colorful for this kind of world and he understands that he doesn’t belong here. He slumps onto the single mattress and does his best to remember his goal.

“That’s not true.”

“You’re the one who said it.”

“I said you couldn’t stop crying, not that you always cry,” Ricky says, sinking to his knees right beside Gyuvin’s sprawled-out body.

“What’s the difference? You think I’m weak either way.”

“No,” Ricky says, putting a warm hand on Gyuvin’s back. “Weak people don’t jump into battle against a behemoth super mutant. Weak people don’t fight alongside The Brotherhood and use the very weapon they hate.”

Gyuvin lifts his head. “You…saw that?”

“I know you hate that gun, Gyuvin.” Ricky gently strokes his back. “But you used it well.”

“I did okay?” Gyuvin hopefully asks, his large eyes all puffy and red.

“Like a hero in training,” Ricky grins. “Your aim isn’t as bad as you think it is. Here,” he starts, pulling out Gyuvin’s pistol from his holster. “Give me your hand.”

Slowly, Gyuvin rises to sit up and places his hand in Ricky’s. Warmth crawls up his chest as Ricky gently positions his fingers in the correct position, his own hand wrapping around Gyuvin’s. He stares intently at their fingers, doing his best to ignore the feeling of Ricky’s rough palms around his smooth hands.

“Like this,” Ricky whispers, pulling Gyuvin’s arms out and arranging him in the correct stance for firing. “Perfect. You learn quickly.” He tucks the gun back into Gyuvin’s side, the brief contact with his waist making him shiver.

“Thank you. I won’t miss next time.”

“We’ll work better if I do the shooting and you cover me. You’re strong and built better to use that knife.”

Gyuvin looks down at Hanbin’s knife. “Feels more natural.”

“Any reason why that is?”

“I was always better at contact sports. Muay Thai, wrestling, rugby, Taekwondo. Being in close proximity with an enemy felt better than being too far away.” He shrugs. “But I could certainly work on my stamina.”

“Lucky you. We don’t really engage in sports up here. Unless you’re from Diamond City like Hao— the town is literally built in a pre-war baseball stadium. Rich people stuff.”

Gyuvin nods. “I guess I should be glad.”

“You’re doing great for your first time on soil,” Ricky smiles. “Why don’t you get a nap in while I go chat with Three Dog? I’ll figure out our route while you’re sleeping,” he says, brushing his thumb over Gyuvin’s cheek. “You can go wash up too, if you want. God knows we are covered in grime.”

Gyuvin chuckles and nods, immortalizing the feeling of Ricky’s thumb on his skin. He notes the hard calluses, likely built from years of mixing drinks and fighting all sorts of enemies. He loves the feeling of them and wishes to be held by them. He looks at his own palms and wonders how long it will take to build the same kind of roughness. He hears excited chattering in the other room, Three Dog’s voice reverberating down the hall. He smiles to himself, noting just how many people seem to trust Ricky.

He makes a promise to himself that he’ll get up and wash as soon as he takes a nap. Sleep comes easy with the comfort of Ricky in the next room.

Gyuvin wakes up to the poking of his cheeks, all cold and metal. Immediately, he cracks open an eye. He isn’t necessarily surprised to find Knight Gunwook at his side. The black-haired boy is beaming at him.

“Good evening! I thought I’d drag you to Brotherhood dinner. You’ve been sleeping for 2 hours or so.”

Gyuvin rubs his eyes and nods. “Thanks for waking me. Where is Ricky?”

“He’s with the rest of the brothers. He wanted you to sleep. Told me about your plan to head over to Rivet City. That’s where I’m from, you know. Real boring but safe nonetheless.”

Gyuvin stretches his arms and rises from the mattress. He follows the Knight down the stairs and into the main area where The Brotherhood members are gathered. He notes that not all of them are dressed in the large armor, some wearing gown-like outfits that likely reflect their rank or class. He immediately spots Ricky, his hair wet and pushed away from his forehead. Gyuvin swallows and distracts himself with conversation.

“Why join The Brotherhood, then?”

Gunwook smiles. “Ooh, this is my favorite question! Rivet City is no fun sometimes. When I was a kid, I ran away from home and nearly got myself killed until a Knight saved my life. Made it my life’s goal to join the ranks when I reached 18. Best decision I ever made, swearing to protect the wasteland.”

Gyuvin grins to himself. He’s glad that some surface dwellers have good moral views. He, however, also notes Ricky’s references to corrupt Brotherhood members back in Vegas. He wonders if the brotherhood in The Capital is any different, or if Gunwook is entirely clueless to what happens in the higher ranks. He chooses to ignore this.

“Gyuvin, over here,” Ricky calls to him, holding up his hand. There’s a dinner plate with some kind of meat placed on it. It’s the first time he’s seen non-canned food since the vaults.

“What is it?” Gyuvin asks, sliding in next to Ricky and ignoring how close their bodies are.

“Mirelurk meat. It’s delicious and a bit fishy, I promise you.”

Gyuvin grins. “Fish was such a rarity in the vaults.” He takes a bite of the Mirelurk and immediately loves it. “Irradiated or not, I could eat this for the rest of my life.”

Ricky gently nudges his shoulder and smiles. “We can fight a Mirelurk one day, you and me. I’ll show you their weakness. The eggs are scrumptious.”

One day? Gyuvin wonders how long Ricky is planning to be at his side. Will he leave as soon as he finds Taerae? Or will he stick around for longer? Part of him knows that the most realistic option is leaving Ricky to his bartending life. He quietly eats his food as he sits with these thoughts.

After dinner, Gyuvin finally cleans all the dirt off his body and hand-washes his clothing as well as armor. He still has Ricky’s jacket stuffed in his bag, smelling like traces of the liquor. Ricky hasn’t asked for it back yet and Gyuvin doesn’t really want to give it up.

Three Dog tells them that he’s sent a message out to the wastes to keep an eye out for a possible vault 134 scientist by the name of Taerae Kim. Settlements are likely to tune into the radio station and may have more information if the two happen to stop by. Gyuvin thanks him for his help and assistance before immediately dropping back onto the mattress, not realizing it’s the only one in the room. He can barely feel his limbs, all aching and sore from running and jumping around the rubble. He finds a comfortable position half-curled into a ball, pulling the thin blanket up to his neck.

“Move,” Ricky says from above, scaring him to death. Gyuvin’s eyes go wide.

“What?”

“There’s one guest room and one bed. Move over,” Ricky yawns, sinking to his knees. Gyuvin can’t quite tell if he’s joking or not.

“A-are we gonna fit?” Gyuvin stutters over his words, his face beginning to heat up. He has no issue sleeping next to Ricky but it might cause unnecessary feelings to stir within his chest.

Well maybe he has some issues sleeping next to Ricky.

Ricky looks at him, his eyes drooping. “Are you uncomfortable? I can sleep on the floor.”

“No! Don’t do that. The floor is gross.” Gyuvin uncurls himself and squeezes against the wall, trying to provide more room. “There’s…not a lot of bedspace.”

Ricky shrugs. “That’s alright. Being closer means generating more warmth. It gets cold at night and we don’t really own…sufficient bedding up here. Unless you’re in a motel.” Ricky slides underneath the blanket, right up to Gyuvin’s waist. Immediately, warmth envelopes the two of them.

“We barely fit,” Ricky chuckles. “Sorry.”

“Mm,” Gyuvin mumbles, his head falling against the single pillow, feeling strands of Ricky’s hair tickle his cheeks. He’s too mortified to admit how ridiculously comfortable it is to be so close to someone’s body again. He’s always fallen asleep easier when someone is in the room or right beside him. Not only this, but Ricky is warm and toasty, his hot breaths soothing Gyuvin’s chilled skin.

“You’re so tired,” Ricky whispers under his breath. “Even with that nap earlier.” He gently moves a piece of hair from Gyuvin’s face. “Sleep well.”

Gyuvin doesn’t hear the last words, already plunging into a deep sleep. It’s the best night he’s spent since being in the wasteland.

Once more, his nightmares don’t haunt him.

☢️

Gyuvin wakes up to the sound of Three Dog’s exuberant voice.

Ricky is still asleep beside him, his head pressed against Gyuvin’s back and his right arm lazily thrown around his waist. Instinctively, Gyuvin flips around to face the bartender. He inhales the pleasant scent and momentarily tunes into Three Dog’s show.

“Because one dog ain’t enough, and two is too low, it’s me, Three Dog! How’s everyone doin? Anybody remember yesterday’s announcement? Got another crazy cat from a vault, says he’s looking for his brother. Taerae— if you’re out there, your kid brother is looking for you man, and he misses you! So if you have any idea where this scientist went, you better keep your eye out for the kid from 134 and his buddy!”

Ricky stirs in his sleep, inching closer to Gyuvin’s face. The vault dweller freezes up.

“That’s right, from Megaton to Girdershade, Paradise Falls to the Republic of Dave, we’re coming to you loud and proud in a special report. Here’s the latest news: unemployment is down, stocks are up, and the U.N has just declared global peace forever! Now the real news. GNR had a run-in with a behemoth son-of-a-bitch just yesterday. Would’ve been cooked if it weren’t for The Brotherhood stepping in— and that crazy vault kid with his friend!”

“Vaultie? You awake?” Ricky asks, gently nudging Gyuvin’s chin. Gyuvin pretends to sleep, savoring the little space between them.

“And just a friendly reminder to all you would-be bigots out there that ghouls are people too. You see, children, ghouls are simply humans who’ve been exposed to an ungodly amount of radiation and haven’t had the good fortune to die. Sure, they may look like hideous zombies from an old monster flick, but their hearts, their souls, their tears are all very much human. So please, if you meet one of The Capital Wasteland’s many ghouls, leave your prejudice at the door and your pistol in its holster.”

“Come on, vaultie. We gotta get to Rivet City.”

Gyuvin stirs and moves closer. “Comfy…”

Ricky cards his fingers through Gyuvin’s brown hair. “I know.”

“Today’s weather is excessively violent, with a chance of dismemberment. Tune in later for our 5-day forecast!”

“Vaultie? We can’t stay here forever.”

Grumbling, Gyuvin sits up from the mattress, shaking his messy bangs away from his forehead. Right around now, Taerae would be giving him a haircut. He’d line up all his friends and carefully snip away until they had their desired cut. Ricky follows him, stretching his arms.

“You ready?”

Truly, Gyuvin doesn’t really want to leave the comfort of the friendly GNR building and the protection of The Brotherhood. But realistically, he can’t stay there forever. He begrudgingly nods.

“Hey, we can always come back. Maybe take your brother with us. Three Dog always likes a new face,” Ricky affectionately taps Gyuvin’s cheek. Gyuvin notices that he’s been doing that more often but chooses not to address it.

The two slowly pack up their things and tidy up the guest bedroom, heading over to Three Dog right after. The energetic radio host gives them a smile and steps away from his post.

“You cats getting ready to head out?”

They both nod, duffle bags in hand.

“Stay safe out there, kids. Don’t feed the Yao Guai.”

“Hope to see you soon, Three Dog. I’ll be tuned in,” Ricky says, giving the man a hug.

And with that, the two make their way out of the GNR building. Before leaving the main exit, however, a friendly figure jogs up to them. It’s the first time Gyuvin has seen Knight Gunwook without his armor on. He’s tall and strong, bounding over like an excited puppy.

“Thanks for dropping by and helping us. We really appreciate it. If you ever need our assistance, you can visit our headquarters at the Citadel. Elder Lyons would be happy to let you in. Tell them you’re Three Dog’s friends.”

Gyuvin nods and grins. “Thanks again for saving us. Really, we’d be dead without you.”

Gunwook adorably salutes. “It's my duty! Stay safe out there, citizens!”

Gyuvin and Ricky exit the main courtyard, passing the debris of yesterday’s battle and heading southbound for Rivet City. Thankfully, Gyuvin notes that it’s not too far away. He assumes they’ll get there just before the sun begins to go down. At the very edge of the map, located right on the river.

He’s still waking up when they get back along the river, passing by more and more of downtown D.C. ruins. Gyuvin can’t believe how much wreckage there is even after all these years, with overgrown bushes sprouting out from the corners. He imagines himself again in the same world old civilizations used to exist in. He imagines himself in pre-war America, in pre-war Korea. What kind of person would he be then? A scientist or medical expert like his brother? A businessman? A repairman? In his heart, he’ll never truly know and he’ll never live to see the rebuilding of a new world.

“Hold on,” Ricky suddenly says, holding Gyuvin back. “There’s a super mutant camp ahead.”

“How can you tell?”

“Body bags. Hanging from the street light up there. Sick freaks. It's how they mark their territory.”

Gyuvin shudders. “That’s demonic.”

“Raiders do the same thing, but with individual corpses. You never get used to the sight.”

“Are we gonna be okay?”

“They’re not necessarily strong, but we’re gonna have to avoid the minigun rounds. Those are killers. Make sure to fasten your vest, they’re gonna come from all sides. Always around 5 in one base.”

Gyuvin nods and wraps his fingers around his knife.

“Gyuvin? You’re going to have to kill something vaguely human. Don’t think about it too much. They aren’t real humans anymore. They don’t want to negotiate with you, they want to kill you and hang you like a trophy.” He grips onto Gyuvin’s shoulders, looking him dead in the eye. “You’re gonna have to get comfortable with violence, okay?”

“I’ll be alright, I promise,” Gyuvin assures, putting his hand on Ricky’s. “I need to get in practice.”

“Good,” Ricky smiles. “You’re learning.”

They creep up along the streets, keeping their eyes on the upcoming camp. As they get closer, Gyuvin can clearly see the sickening body bags drooping from the buildings. He focuses his attention instead on the large green men that guard the area, all holding some form of bat or minigun. They’re nowhere near as large as the behemoth, but they’re still much bigger than the both of them combined.

“How do we start?” Gyuvin whispers.

“I snipe, you run. My gunshot will alert every single one of them. You need to move quickly and go for the melee fighters. Can you handle that?”

“On it,” Gyuvin says, pulling the blade out of its sheath. It makes a satisfying sound.

Ricky hides behind a large piece of rubble and aims silently, making the first shot directly at a super mutant’s head. Instantaneously, the creature crumbles to the ground.

The bartender breaks into a grin. “Critical hit,” he says. He turns towards Gyuvin. “Now, run.”

Like clockwork, the remaining 4 mutants come barreling down from their camp, screaming profanities with their guns beginning to fire. Gyuvin doesn’t have time to panic, hopping over the abandoned cars towards the first melee enemy he sees. He slides past the green mutant, swiping his knife along its thigh. It screeches and goes to stop the bleeding, angrily bringing its bat down but narrowly missing the vault dweller. With new confidence, Gyuvin grunts as he makes another swipe at the mutant’s torso and kicks its chest with all his might. The mutant goes flying.

“Nice!” Ricky shouts from a distance as he simultaneously fires rounds.

Gyuvin smiles to himself and goes for the next enemy, following the same tactic as before. Contact sports, he thinks. Melee and physical strength. He dodges a hit from a spiked bat, swinging his body around to slash his knife at the mutant’s back. He kicks again, watching as the mutant tumbles down from where he was perched. Something hits his chest with incredible force, however, causing him to roll down after the mutant. He realizes in an instant he’s been sprayed with bullets. Scrambling to his feet, he watches in horror as a super mutant wielding a minigun barrels after him.

“Gyuvin, shoot the cars! They’ll explode!” Ricky yells.

Turning around, Gyuvin spots a dented and vintage red Corvega just feet away from him. He fumbles with the pistol in his holster and yanks it out, sloppily aiming at the rear end of the vehicle. He hits it once, twice, then listens as the car creaks.

“Now run!”

He doesn’t have to. The explosion that follows sends him flying through the air, taking out the super mutant on his tail and causing him to hit the ground with violent force. Gyuvin lands on a thorned bush, the spiked plant tearing into the skin not covered by armor. He winces and yelps, feeling his back ache with pain. The Corvega remains lit in front of him, covered in hot flames.

Seconds later, Ricky comes running over. He immediately pulls Gyuvin out of the bush and against his chest, holding him close. His breathing is erratic and his wrist is trickling with blood.

“Jesus christ, Gyuvin. Are you okay?”

The vault dweller sputters and coughs, nodding his head. Ricky wipes the debris off his face and feels around his waist, checking for injuries.

“The armor did you well. God, I’m sorry. I thought you could clear it in time.”

Gyuvin shakes his head. “It’s alright, it took care of the last one I think. I was far enough away that the flames didn’t get to me. It hurts, though. Are you okay?” Gyuvin gently grabs Ricky’s hand to inspect the damage on his wrist.

“Bullet brushed me. I’m fine, it’s not deep.”

“I’ll wrap it.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“Sit down and shut up,” Gyuvin says, immediately pushing Ricky down. The bartender widens his eyes, not expecting the sudden attitude. A grin spreads across his face.

“Getting braver, I see.”

Gyuvin’s cheeks glow bright red. “I said shut up.”

Quietly, Gyuvin pushes Ricky’s sleeve up and grabs the first aid kit out of his duffle bag. He’s done this a million times, patching up all kinds of injuries back in the vaults and even helping Doc Church in Megaton. He wipes away the wound with a clean tissue and inspects the damage, noting that Ricky was right. His wrist is only shallowly cut, the vertical injury spanning from the base of his balm halfway to his elbow. He disinfects it as gently as he can, watching as Ricky silently winces under his touches.

“Sorry.”

“I’ve been shot before. This is nothing,” the bartender says.

Gyuvin patches up the injury and wraps it over and over, making sure it’s secure. “I would tell you to be careful but that’s worthless coming from me.”

Ricky laughs. “I appreciate the thought.” He wiggles his wrist as Gyuvin lets go of it. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He peers into the distance. “Should we continue?”

Ricky nods and effortlessly hauls his duffle bag over his shoulder. They jump over the scattered remains of the super mutant camp and dodge the Corvega still burning with flames. They find a first aid box at the front end of the camp and take the remaining stimpaks before moving forward.

Gyuvin finds this part of the journey to be much nicer, walking along the irradiated Potomac River that runs through the ruins. He can’t see the bottom of the water, and wonders just how clear it was when the city was still brimming with life. Occasional creatures dart by, never showing their full bodies. Gyuvin wonders how many organisms survived the bombs and how many new ones were created. The greenish color of the river accentuates the dark and grey surroundings as they make their way towards Rivet City.

The vault dweller is almost surprised to see the large aircraft carrier in the distance only after three hours of walking. It’s the shortest distance they’ve had to travel so far, close enough that they can return to the GNR building within the same day if they needed to. It’s a massive aircraft carrier docked on the very edge of the river, complete with an entire row of guards at the entrance. There’s a large bridge that leads directly to the boat accessed by land. Ricky grumbles under his breath, noting that there are guards on the bridge as well.

“I doubt this will be easy,” he says, taking a deep breath before approaching the slew of armored men. They all turn their attention to the two travelers, immediately raising their hunting rifles. Gyuvin’s breath catches in his throat.

“Relax, just keep your weapons holstered. Don’t make any sudden movements. We don’t look like raiders or mercs,” Ricky whispers while slowly grabbing Gyuvin’s hand to raise them up. The guards remain with their weapons pointed at the two men.

“Halt. State your business,” the head guard demands.

“We’re travelers and we’re looking for Doctor Madison Li.”

The guard narrows his eyes. “Why would you be looking for her?”

“I have a vault dweller with me. We’re tracking someone down in the name of science. We’ve just come from the Galaxy News Radio building. Three Dog’s announcement, did you hear it?”

The guard lowers his gun, alerting the others to do so as well. “How do I know you’re not impersonating them?”

Ricky points to the glowing Pip-Boy on Gyuvin’s wrist.

“You could have stolen that.”

“I’ve been here before. Ask the council about a Ricky from New Vegas.”

The guard leans over and whispers something into his counterpart’s ear. The second man nods and runs back towards the boat, disappearing past a door.

“We’ll confirm that shortly.”

“I’m looking for my brother!” Gyuvin suddenly shouts. “I need to speak to Dr. Li about his disappearance!”

“Pipe down, you. I need clearance before I can let you anywhere near town!” The guard says, uninterested.

“It’s alright, we can wait.” Ricky interlaces his hand with Gyuvin’s and drags him to the corner of the bridge to sit down. “It won’t take them too long.”

Gyuvin looks at him with huge eyes. “What if they send us away? Then what?”

“They won’t.”

“We have to get in there, Ricky.”

“I’ll go back to the damn GNR building and drag a Brotherhood Knight here with me if I have to.”

Gyuvin’s mouth silently drops open as if to say something but he quickly closes it. Is this how much Ricky cares? Whatever happened to simply dropping him off and going back home? How far is he willing to go for his safety? He looks down at their hands clasped together and makes no move to pull away.

“I hate sitting in the sun,” Gyuvin says, changing the subject. Ricky looks over and squeezes his hand.

“You need the sun.”

“I don’t.”

“Everyone does.”

“Vault dwellers don’t.”

Ricky sighs. “Pretty flowers need the sun, too,” he mumbles under his breath. Gyuvin snaps his head over and gawks.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” He nods towards the aircraft entrance. “He’s coming back.”

Sure enough, the guard that had run off makes his way back to the lead man. He’s wildly waving his hands.

“A Ricky Shen from New Vegas? Of the Shi tribe?” The head guard questions. Ricky stands up and nods his head.

“I am him.”

The guard shrugs. “Council says to let you in.” As the two walk forward, the man suddenly puts his hand out and narrows his eyes. “The vault dweller. Is he…safe?”

Gyuvin throws his head back and groans. “I’m right here.”

Ricky chuckles. “More than safe.”

“Do anything strange and you’re out for good,” the man warns. Ricky gives him a firm salute and pulls Gyuvin across the bridge.

They enter the rickety settlement, plunging into the dark and cold quarters of Rivet City. Gyuvin immediately dislikes the smell and how narrow the walls are. But he keeps his mouth shut and allows the bartender to drag him through the hallways.

“I only stayed here for a few nights. They wouldn’t stop pestering me for intel so I left. Yujin hated these dorms,” he says, eyes trained on the walls of the ship. “We won’t stay here for long, either.”

“What if there’s no leads? Where do we go next? What do we do?”

Ricky squeezes his hand once more. “What we can.”

After they go down a few hallways, Ricky stops abruptly in front of a single metal door. The sign above glows with the words science laboratory. Without wasting a second, he raps his knuckles on the door. The gears turn and the entrance slides open to reveal a security guard.

“Who are you? This isn't open to civilians.” He goes to close the door before Ricky immediately stops it with his foot.

“We need to speak with Dr. Li.”

The guard looks down at Ricky’s foot and glares. “How do you know her?”

“I know of her. We need to speak with her regarding a missing vault dweller.”

“Who’s at the door?” A female voice calls from behind, turning the guard’s attention away from the two men. Suddenly, an Asian woman wearing a long lab coat peeks past the Rivet City guard. “Hello? Am I being asked for?”

“Dr. Li?”

“That’s me. Madison Li. Who are you?”

“Shen Quanrui of the Shi faction and of New Vegas. I have a vault dweller with me looking for his scientist brother that escaped vault 134 almost a month ago. We need to know where he went,” he states clearly.

Gyuvin looks over with soft eyes. “Quanrui…?”

Ricky leans towards his ear and whispers, “She’s familiar with my family.”

Gyuvin smiles to himself. What a pretty name.

“The Shens…goodness, child, it’s been a while since I’ve heard that name. Come in,” she says, shooing the guard away and ushering the two in.

It’s the cleanest room in the wasteland, Gyuvin thinks. Sterile lab equipment strewn about the place, advanced-looking terminals lined up against the walls, researchers milling about. He thinks back to his vault laboratory and wonders if this is the environment his brother spoke so highly of.

“Another vault dweller, huh? You seem to keep popping up every few years and surprising us all.” She shakes her head. “I thought vault 134 was a myth until a few months ago. Turns out Vault-Tec was 300 years ahead of us instead of 200. She turns to Ricky and puts her hands on his shoulders. “I didn’t think you’d be out here so far. Hell— I didn’t even know your parents had a kid. When did you travel to The Capital?”

He shrugs. “It’s a long story. Vegas wasn’t for me.”

“And you didn’t return to your faction in San Francisco instead?”

“I don’t think they know I’m alive.”

She purses her lips. “I wouldn’t stay in Vegas, either.” She sizes Gyuvin up and down. “And you, elaborate. Who exactly are you looking for?”

Gyuvin nervously steps forward and clears his throat. “Taerae Kim. Vault 134 scientist and upcoming doctor. A few weeks ago he left the vault without telling me why and I’ve been tracking him down ever since. I have no leads whatsoever besides being told to come here.”

Dr. Li’s eyes widen as she slowly steps back. “Taerae…your brother…is Taerae?”

Gyuvin can feel the panic bubbling up within his chest. His breath quickens as he jumps forward. “You…know him?!”

Dr. Li’s eyes nervously dart back and forth between the two men. She seems to hesitate before she speaks, visibly anxious. The silence makes Gyuvin’s heart pound faster. Is it bad news? What is she going to tell him? That his brother is dead? That he’s a criminal? That he’s never going to see him again?

Ricky narrows his eyes and squeezes Gyuvin’s hand for the third time. “What do you know?”

“Taerae. He…” she stumbles on her words, looking towards one of the terminals behind her, “I know him alright.”

“Please,” Gyuvin begs, “just tell me what you know. I can’t lose my brother. He’s all I have.”

“My dear boy, your brother is miles away from this place. He…he was summoned.”

“What?!” Gyuvin exclaims. “What do you mean, summoned? He’s from a vault! He doesn’t know anyone outside the vault!”

Dr. Li shakes her head. “You’re wrong.”

Gyuvin squeezes his eyes shut and nearly screams. “Of course I’m wrong. Of course.”

Taerae’s words come back to haunt him, their conversations replaying over and over again in his mind. The vaults and their societies, the surface and its mysteries.

“Why haven’t we made contact with them?”

“What makes you think we haven’t already?”

He feels sick, refusing to come to terms with his brother hiding secrets from him. He must have known— he must have been aware of what went on in The Overseer’s council. He must have had contact with the outside world while the rest of the vault lived in ignorance.

“Gyuvin, listen, we can—” Ricky starts. Gyuvin sputters out a sob.

“This isn’t how things were supposed to be! None of it. I was never supposed to be here. He was never supposed to leave. I was never supposed to know that the vaults would never complete their missions. I wish I stayed clueless.”

Ricky pulls the vault dweller against his chest and levels his eyes at Dr. Li. “Keep talking, please.” Gyuvin cries into Ricky’s shoulder, gripping onto his back with fervor.

“Your brother was summoned by The Institute.” She takes a shaky breath. “Your brother is nowhere near the Capital Wasteland. Your brother is in The Commonwealth. He left days ago.”

Ricky tightens his grip around Gyuvin’s waist. “What the fuck is The Institute.” Anger rises within his tone as the doctor continues her explanation.

“A scientific institution. A vilified one.”

Gyuvin chooses not to hear this, chooses not to believe his brother would ever be involved with something evil.

“Vilified?”

“Very much so. At least in The Commonwealth. They have very few ties this far out.”

“You’re making this extremely difficult, Dr. Li. Get to the goddamn point,” Ricky threatens.

“The Institute is an enemy of The Commonwealth. Long disowned by Diamond City and surrounding settlements. They are…reclusive.”

“What is their goal? Who are these people? And why do they need Taerae?” Ricky demands. Gyuvin pulls away from his chest but refuses to look at Dr. Li.

“They are a very advanced scientific institution based underneath the ruins of the pre-war Commonwealth Institute of Technology. They are notorious for their run-ins with the people of The Commonwealth. They are known for many things.” She begins pacing around the lab. “They are not inherently evil, but they will do anything in the name of science, anything to further the wasteland’s technology for a better future.”

“Like what?” Gyuvin chokes out.

She takes a deep breath. “They are the creators of the synths.”

“The synths?!” Ricky breathes out. “You’re telling me we can make synths? Metal people?! Fucking robots?!”

Dr. Li nods. “In 2227, The Institute was able to create a series of engineered synthetic beings from the DNA of an abducted child from Vault 111.”

Vault 111, Gyuvin thinks, recalling Ricky’s earlier explanation.

“Vault 111. Forced everybody into cryogenic pods to see how long their bodies could withstand long-term cryostasis. Two people survived.”

“They abducted…a frozen child?!” Gyuvin shouts.

“Not just a frozen child, a pre-war child. Pure DNA. From that, hyper-realistic synthetic humans were created,” she continues. “But they are tortured souls. They are human souls, no matter how many wires run through them. They are kept for experiments and tracked down when they escape their cages. The Institute may be the future, but they are no better than Vault-Tec.”

History tragically repeats itself, Gyuvin solemnly thinks.

“My brother…” Gyuvin wipes his tears, “has something to do with this awful organization?”

The doctor nods. “He only stopped by briefly. For many reasons, his explanations were classified. He spoke to our council for directions on the best way to reach The Commonwealth and left as soon as he came. Says he was summoned three months ago.”

Gyuvin feels the numbness begin to pour in. The secrets make him unbelievably dizzy, thankful for the grip Ricky still has on him.

“I don’t know why they need him. But all I can assume is that he is useful to them. You don’t turn down an invitation from the most advanced, secretive faction in the nation.”

“He didn’t mention anything else?” Gyuvin says, more tears sliding down his cheeks. “He didn’t mention his own brother?”

Dr. Li gives him a sad smile. “He told me to take care of your vault, despite its many issues. I assume that includes you. He said he’d be back when the time comes.”

“What do you mean…its many issues?” Gyuvin asks, afraid for the answer. “We are a successful experiment! We are happy people!” He yells, struggling to convince himself. He was certain he knew the extent of the lies.

Dr. Li’s face goes pale. “I believe it is not my place to tell you the truth. I’m sorry, vault dweller, but I cannot bestow any more information upon you, not in this state. But I will provide you with all the supplies you require to head north.”

Exhausted from crying, Gyuvin leans his head into the crook of Ricky’s neck. “I can barely handle this. I can barely do this.”

His own brother— a traitor to his people.

Ricky gives Dr. Li a stern look and gently cards his fingers through Gyuvin’s hair. “He must have a reason, Gyuvin. There must be a good cause. The Institute is not inherently evil as Dr. Li mentioned. I doubt your brother has anything to do with the creation and oppression of synths. If he’s anything like you, he wouldn’t.”

Dr. Li steps back and bows her head. “I will have you two escorted to a room down the hall. Stay as long as you need to and we will gather supplies in the meantime. The Commonwealth is no easy journey from here.”

“Nearly 440 fucking miles,” Ricky seethes under his breath. “Even I haven’t been that far north.”

“Hyung…” Gyuvin whispers against Ricky’s skin, wishing that the words could travel directly to Taerae’s ears. “Why do this to me?”

“We’ll be okay, Gyuvin. You won’t face him alone.” He places his hands on either side of the vault dweller’s cheeks. “I’ll be right next to you.”

Gyuvin leans into Ricky’s warm touch. “You will?”

“I promise.” He hugs him again. “Let's get some rest, okay? I’m certain they have nicer beds here.”

Gyuvin can’t believe he has the energy to chuckle. Together, they exit the laboratory and find a security guard waiting at the entrance. He motions for them to follow them down the hall, ushering them into a semi-large dormitory complete with all kinds of complementary appliances.

Almost immediately, Gyuvin collapses onto the large bed. It’s soft and fuzzy, reminiscent of the one he has at home. Ricky sits at the edge and begins to unfasten his vest.

“I’m sorry, Gyuvin. Normally, I know things other surface dwellers don’t. But…an institute? Not even Hao mentioned anything like this.”

Gyuvin gives him a sad smile. “I can’t imagine he would know anything. He would tell you, right?”

Ricky nods. “He would. But I don’t doubt his boss knows something.” He keeps his eyes trained on the floor. “I’m gonna go wash up. I’ll be back.”

Gyuvin wipes his tears and takes a deep breath, curling up on the bed and running the permutations through his head. He won’t have time to process the mess before they leave for The Commonwealth, so he’ll have to acknowledge the worst and deconstruct the image of his own brother. Leaving so quickly, refusing to write a note— Gyuvin should have known he was up to no good. Anger is the second thing he feels, unimaginable fury at the person he trusted the most. Taerae’s main goal was to protect his innocence but the truth would have hurt him less.

More times than not, Ricky’s words overshadow Taerae’s.

“You’re much braver than you give yourself credit for.”

He isn’t innocent and he isn’t weak. He could handle whatever Taerae was hiding from him. The vault couldn’t have protected him forever.

Fatigue comes easiest when the tears run out. He drifts off to sleep with his legs pulled against his chest.

Confused, scared, and enraged.

☢️

“Gyuvin?” A soft voice says from above, a pleasant smell of fresh shampoo and eucalyptus following after. “Do you want to shower and eat something?”

Ricky kneels down, his wet black hair brushing against Gyuvin’s forearm. He gently drags his nails down Gyuvin’s back and gives him a little shake. The vault dweller doesn’t open his eyes just yet, enjoying the way Ricky is calmly scratching his back. It brings the same warmth the other small forms of affection bring: the cheek tapping, the hand holding, the loose arm thrown around him when they find themselves huddled together. He stretches out his limbs and slowly blinks his eyes open, a little flustered to find the bartender so close to his face.

“Right. I’ll get up.”

For a few seconds, Ricky doesn’t stop scratching his back.

“They have something other than canned food here. A real treat,” he jokes, an attempt to lighten the mood. Gyuvin smiles and swings his feet over the couch, his heart falling when Ricky retracts his hand. He longs to link their fingers together once more and not let go until Taerae is standing right in front of them.

A clean shower restores his mind a bit, the steam making him drowsy again. Dr. Li has provided him with a comfortable robe and an extra set of light armor as well as pre-war clothing. He washes the grime off his skin and yearns to crawl into the fresh bedding. When he heads back into the dormitory, Ricky is sitting on the bed with red eyes. His fists are clenched and his previously calm state appears agitated. Immediately, Gyuvin runs over with concern, wondering what changed his demeanor so quickly.

“Ricky? Are you okay?”

For weeks, he’s been the one comforted. Ricky had recounted his woes with a straight face, a neutral tone, a blasé attitude that Gyuvin could never replicate. The sadness on Ricky’s features fills Gyuvin with pure dread.

“Ricky? Did something happen?” Gyuvin softly says, dropping to his knees in front of the bartender. “Can you tell me?”

Ricky gives him a jaded laugh. “My parents,” he starts, the first tears falling from his eyes. “Dr. Li visited me while you were showering. She told me what I already knew.”

Gyuvin hesitantly grabs his hand. Ricky lets him.

“It’s not like I was expecting her to say something else. But I wish it had been something human instead of that awful screen.”

“Screen?”

“Mr. House. His body is sealed within a life support system but his mind speaks through a computer. He’s a pre-war asshole stuck in time, speaking to you through a screen.”

“What did he do to them?” Gyuvin asks carefully, already knowing the answer to the question.

“When he seized the casino, they fought back. They would never have handed it over so easily. He killed them, of course. Anything that goes against the Mr. House law gets an early grave.” He shrugs with sadness. “I knew. I always knew. I just didn’t think I’d ever hear it.”

Gyuvin uses his free hand to wipe away Ricky’s tears. “Did Dr. Li tell you?”

“She received the message from my faction nearly a decade ago. I’ve had enough time to figure it out. But part of me wishes it just wasn’t true.” He leans into Gyuvin’s soft hand. “The faction assumed I went with them. Dr. Li wasn’t expecting to see me alive and breathing.” He looks down with melancholic eyes. “I can’t help but wonder what they would have done if they knew I was still out there.”

Gyuvin places his hands on either side of Ricky’s cheeks. “I don’t think they meant to abandon you.”

“The Strip nearly killed me.”

“I know,” Gyuvin whispers softly. “But it didn’t.”

Ricky closes his eyes. “At least its closure.”

“And you are still here. And with me.”

“Yeah,” Ricky says. “And with you.”

They stay like this for a while, Ricky’s soft cries filling the silence as Gyuvin continuously wipes his tears away. Gyuvin finds himself honored— never in a million years did he expect to see a vulnerable side of the man that had so fiercely protected him. Ricky always appears unbothered and impossibly strong, making his way through the wasteland with a stoic face. He’s beautiful when his guard is lowered, glassy eyes making him prettier than he already is. Gyuvin doesn’t quite know how to put the way he feels in words. Admiration, attraction, trust.

Not everybody on the surface is cut out to be a good person. In the beginning, Gyuvin wasn’t sure if Ricky cared about anybody else other than himself. With the layers peeled back, the vault dweller can’t fathom how he ever believed such a thing.

Ricky’s eyes are still sutured shut when he speaks again. “Can we sleep?”

Gyuvin pulls his hands away and nods. “I can sleep on the c—”

“No!” Ricky blurts out, his eyes wide and glossy. “Don’t do that. There’s plenty of room in this bed.”

Gyuvin’s heart jumps at the opportunity. Comfort. It’s what Ricky is silently pleading for. He understands this better than anyone else.

Immediately, he climbs under the covers and watches as Ricky slowly follows him. They stay stagnant for a few moments, their chests slowly rising and falling in unison. Gyuvin hears the various sounds outside the room. Guards patrolling the hallways, metal creaking with age, market vendors just a few doors down. Despite the uncomfortable settlement, the bustle of people is nice to hear.

It happens naturally. It’s happened before— with Ricky throwing a lazy arm around his torso. But this time, they’re both awake. They’ve both established the need for mutual consolation. Gyuvin doesn’t think when he inches closer to the bartender, slowly extending his arms out as a clear invitation. Ricky doesn’t hesitate sliding against his body, burying his face deep into the crook of Gyuvin’s neck. He inhales and exhales, warm breaths tickling Gyuvin’s skin. Gyuvin has never quite felt the true feeling of melting into someone, all the stress and tension in his body evaporating the moment Ricky’s heart beats against his. The drowsiness takes over instantaneously, the warmth lulling him into a wonderful state of being. Ricky is so soft and pliable, shifting his legs around until they’re intertwined with Gyuvin’s. No more apathetic looks, cold remarks, or doubtful statements. He’s a perfect fit.

“Is this okay?” Ricky gently speaks against Gyuvin’s neck. The vault dweller responds by carding his fingers through the bartender’s hair, mesmerized by the softness it carries.

“Mmhmm. You’re nice and warm.” He wonders if Ricky can hear the violent pounding of his heart.

“Thank you.”

Gyuvin squeezes around him. “Thank you, too.”

And with that, the two drift off to sleep.

Gyuvin dreams about pleasant things for the first time in ages. Happy memories in the vault, heroic adventures in the wastelands, revisiting Megaton and bothering his new friends.

And something new, something that he’d been fighting all along.

A kiss from Shen Quanrui of the Shi faction.

Chapter Text

Gyuvin thinks they’re on the same page.

They’ve slept in hours past what they normally allow themselves, curled up against one another in the most ridiculous positions. When Gyuvin flips over, Ricky will mold his body to fit his, wrapping arms around his waist and tangling their legs together. When Ricky lets go, Gyuvin will rest his head against the bartender’s chest and fall right back asleep listening to the soft beats. A few moments during the night, Gyuvin swears he feels Ricky petting his head with the gentlest of touches. He longs to reach forward and press a kiss to his forehead.

Waking up is no easy feat. Gyuvin nearly whines when Ricky pulls away from his chest, instinctively reaching out to grab at the lost heat. The bartender only chuckles and laces their fingers together before giving them a little shake.

“I’m just going to the bathroom,” he whispers, leaning forward and poking the vault dweller’s nose. “But we should get up soon and start mapping out our journey.”

Gyuvin vehemently shakes his head with a pout. “Can’t we take another rest day?”

Ricky purses his lips for a moment in thought. He tilts his head. “Actually. Maybe that’s not such a bad idea. We’ll be traveling for miles.”

Gyuvin’s excitement is immediate, a dopey grin spreading across his face. Despite their bodies being sutured together just moments ago, the vault dweller is already fantasizing again. He hesitantly lets go of Ricky’s hands.

“Come back quickly. It’s cold.”

Ricky nods. “You got it, vaultie.”

The nickname heats Gyuvin’s cheeks. ‘Vaultie’ isn’t necessarily positive, but Gyuvin can tell Ricky means it in a playful manner. Any kind of nickname from Ricky will do if it means cuddling with him for the remainder of their trip.

Ricky keeps his promise, hurrying back just minutes after he left the room. He burrows under the covers and wastes no time before he’s gathering Gyuvin up in his arms again. A satisfied hum leaves Gyuvin’s lips as he throws his leg over Ricky’s torso, nuzzling into his chest. He doesn't want to gear up for a 440 mile journey, falling in love with the idea of staying in Rivet City forever, despite the ugly grey walls and tight spaces. He could give up right now and end each day cuddled up to this enchanting man. But alas, Taerae is still out there.

“You’ve never been to The Commonwealth?” Gyuvin asks with his eyes closed.

“Never. Hao told me all about it. But I’m not sure how much he really knows, considering where he grew up. I hear things, all kinds of things. It can’t be any more dangerous than it is here. It’s more advanced, I’m sure of that.”

Gyuvin nods and yawns. “And you’re certain we’ll make it?”

Ricky peers down at him and brushes his bangs out his face. “We’ve made it this far, haven’t we?”

“It’s just…daunting. Going that far out.”

“I’ve traveled states by foot. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Gyuvin’s chest swells with adoration. He thinks back to the moment they first met, Ricky’s empty eyes boring into his chest. “You once said that no one would die for me,” he whispers, immediately regretting it.

Ricky pulls him closer. “I was scared.”

“Of me?” Gyuvin exclaims.

“I didn’t know what you were capable of. I didn’t know if you belonged to The Overseer’s council. I had no way of telling if you were a threat or not.”

Gyuvin sighs. “I guess I did look a bit crazy.”

“You could have been bait. Surface dwellers don’t trust anyone below us.” He grabs Gyuvin’s hand and rubs his thumb over his skin. “I’m sorry about that.”

Gyuvin finds himself getting sleepy again. “You didn’t know. You were only doing what was best to protect your family.”

“I wish it was easier to trust people. I learned from a very young age that it’s never worth it to trust someone completely.”

Gyuvin hums and looks up, burning the details of Ricky’s features into his mind. “Do you trust me?”

A beat of silence. Ricky pulls Gyuvin’s hand around his waist. “I do. At least I think I do.”

Gyuvin smiles to himself. “That’s a relief.”

“I’ve never met anyone like you. Someone so eager to do good. Someone so…” he tapers off, looking towards the foot of the bed.

“Someone so…?”

Ricky covers his face with his hands and groans. “Surface dwellers aren’t supposed to talk like this.”

“Someone so what, Ricky?” Gyuvin gently pokes him in the stomach.

“Lovely. Someone so lovely.”

“Oh,” Gyuvin chokes out, sinking just a bit further under the covers. To his embarrassment, Ricky goes down with him.

“You made me say it,” he giggles in response.

Gyuvin swats Ricky’s hands away. “I never thought that you could even say something nice.”

“Pft,” Ricky rolls his eyes. “Ouch.”

“You were so mean to me!” Gyuvin pouts, his voice lowering. “I didn’t know what to do.”

Ricky scoots closer and swipes his thumb across Gyuvin’s cheek. “I’m sorry. Am I nicer now?”

Gyuvin slowly nods.

“You can trust that I’ll be good to you from now on.”

Gyuvin closes his eyes. “You’ve already proven that.” He presses his palm over Ricky’s hand and holds it in place against his face. He considerably heats up burrowed underneath the covers, wondering just when Ricky will pull away.

“Ricky?” he whispers.

“Hm?”

“What happens after?”

“After? After we find your brother? After we get to The Commonwealth?”

Gyuvin swallows and nods. “Will you go back to Megaton?”

Ricky purses his lips and breathes out. “I suppose. I have to get back to my own brother and run the bar. Moira would kill me if I stayed out here too long. So would the others.”

“Ah,” Gyuvin says sadly, his eyes darting down. Where will he go? Back to the vaults? To surrender himself and repent? Or stay with his brother if he even finds him?

“Are you scared of what you’ll find?” Ricky asks gently. “Are you scared that you won’t have anywhere to go?”

“I have a terribly awful feeling that I’m not going to like The Institute.” He peers up at the ceiling while his eyes gloss over with tears. “I can’t return to my vault. And I’m sure Taerae can’t either.”

Ricky chuckles. “Gyuvin, do you really think I’d abandon you like that?”

Gyuvin stares back with wide eyes, tears sliding down his cheek and onto Ricky’s hand. “I can’t let my presence be a burden to you after this.”

Ricky shakes his head. “I told you to stop talking like that. I’m with you because I want to be.”

“We’ve almost died multiple times.”

“And it was fun,” Ricky says, squeezing Gyuvin’s cheek. “Look,” he starts, shifting his full attention to the vault dweller. “We will find Taerae and go from there. If you decide to stay with him, then I will return to Megaton alone. But if you have nowhere to go, then go home with me.”

Gyuvin doesn’t mean to cry harder than he already is, feeling the full body sobs rack through his frame the moment the words fall from Ricky’s lips. Go home with him? Home?!

“I…can’t…” Gyuvin begins as he hurriedly wipes his tears away. He no longer feels embarrassed to cry in Ricky’s presence yet wishes he was just a little bit stronger.

“Yes, you can. Come back with me, Gyuvin. I’ll put you to work. You can be my barback or Moira’s right hand man or even Hao’s assistant. You feel as if you don’t have a place in this world so I will give you one.” He leans in closer, their noses just barely brushing. “The wasteland is a little more tolerable with you in it. The roads are less rough when you walk them with me. My hands aren’t as irradiated when you hold them.”

“Stop it,” Gyuvin cries.

“Gyuvin, come home with me,” Ricky pleads. “Please?”

The blood rushes to Gyuvin’s cheeks, his heart pounds against his chest, chills go up and down his spine. Ricky is so close to him. He could choose to close the gap and press their lips together, changing the trajectory of their relationship for the remainder of their journey. He could straddle himself over Ricky’s hips and kiss him until he feels he’s thanked him enough for his sacrifices. He could make the biggest mistake of his life and regret this very moment for as long as he lives.

But it doesn’t matter what he thinks, because Ricky moves in closer.

Gyuvin stills entirely, his body frozen in place as the bartender’s eyes drift down to their lips. The smell of Ricky’s shampoo is haunting him, mocking him, luring him in like a siren. Just a few more inches, just one more burst of confidence—

“We should get some more rest,” Gyuvin blurts out, his brain taking over his desires. Ricky's eyes widen in shock as he pulls away with fervor. He nervously wipes the sweat off his palms and puts a significant distance between their bodies.

Immediately, Gyuvin regrets spoiling the moment. If he hadn’t said anything, maybe Ricky would have kissed him first. Or maybe he would have pulled away just the same.

Gyuvin rolls over with heated cheeks and sinks into the pillow, desperate to immediately fall asleep. Ricky too, rolls over onto his side. They say nothing, allowing the Rivet City noises to lull them into slumber.

☢️

They sleep through the day and night, recharging their exhausted bodies. The almost-kiss doesn’t deter their close proximity one bit, still finding their limbs entangled every few minutes. Gyuvin gives up trying to keep away from the bartender, realizing he sleeps much better when they’re laying on top of each other. He’s not one to sleep for so long, but Ricky makes it so easy. He’ll wake up in a stupor, come face to face with Ricky, and immediately plunge back into fatigue.

By the time next morning comes, the two haven’t spoken more than they’ve slept. A wave of dread settles over Gyuvin’s head when he peers out his dormitory, recognizing the familiar sounds of a radstorm. He groans, remembering the last time the storm had ravaged his thoughts while he struggled to separate his hallucinations from reality. The sickly green color makes him nauseous instantaneously, the feeling only mended by Ricky’s presence directly beside him.

“You alright?” He asks, voice a little groggy. Gyuvin leans into his warm presence.

“Yeah. I just hate these storms.”

“Really? I kind of like them.”

Gyuvin shakes his head with a smile, closing the door and sitting down at their shared table. “Another thing you and I don’t have in common.”

Ricky joins him, smoothing back his messy hair. “It was always an excuse to do nothing. Folks wouldn’t leave their homes during a storm. Easy day at the bar.”

Gyuvin fires up his Pip-Boy. “What did you do, then?”

Ricky’s mouth tugs into a grin. “Family bonding day— sort of.”

“And what did that entail?”

“Training Yujin to use weapons or mix drinks. Teaching him phrases in Mandarin. Sometimes Jiwoong would reenact old dramas he starred in. Hanbin would tell us secrets of the wasteland. Hao would make us play detective games. Moira would just laugh and swear she’d write us in her next book.”

Gyuvin looks at his Pip-Boy and smiles. It’s the first jovial memory Ricky has seemed to recall around him. He imagines it— the ragtag group of wastelanders huddled together while the awful weather drones on outside. It doesn’t quite make sense to a vault dweller, but it's a lovely thought nonetheless.

The odd trio reappears in his mind— Jiwoong, Hao, and Hanbin. A strange group of men that don’t go well together on paper. A ghoul, a raider, and a rich man. They should be tearing at each other’s throats, holding bloodied weapons to jugulars and whispering words of vile threats. But instead, Gyuvin remembers just how soft they treated one another, gentle brushes of fingers and lingering gazes. An anomaly, just like his own existence.

“Hao and Hanbin and Jiwoong…are they—”

“Yes. It’s exactly what you think.”

“They’re together? All…three of them?”

Ricky shrugs, pulling out a torn-up notebook from his duffle. “Not explicitly. But when Hanbin joined the picture, it’s like the other two were instantly healed. Believe me, nobody else can figure it out, either.” He finds an old pen in one of the dorm drawers. “But they’ve found what most people look for out here. And that is a miracle in itself.”

Gyuvin carefully marks Rivet City on his map. “That’s lovely.”

“It is. Now I have three more brothers, kind of.”

Gyuvin wonders if he too, will have more brothers by the end of his journey.

A beat of silence. Gyuvin continues to imagine Ricky’s life in Megaton, formed by bonds with strangers and runaway wastelanders. He double checks the contents of his duffle and begins to zoom out on his green-glowing map.

“We should head outside once the storm ends. Give it about 45 more minutes until it’s over. We’re way down the river. We need to head back up.”

“Way up,” Gyuvin mumbles, realizing they are at the very bottom of the Pip-Boy map. Rivet City sits at the edge of the Capital Wasteland, no further land auto-rendered on his device. It makes him shudder, wondering if anything beyond the border exists without human presence.

“440 miles will take roughly about 2 weeks by foot. Our plan for today is to get halfway across the Capital and end up somewhere around Canterbury Commons.”

“We stop there for the night?”

Ricky nods. “Our final goal is to get to Diamond City, Hao’s home.” He grins widely. “The Great Green Jewel of The Commonwealth.”

“Will they let us in?”

“If I drop Hao’s full name and address they will. Hao says the mayor is a real stuck up son of a bitch but I’d imagine you’d have to be if you’re running the tightest settlement in The Commonwealth.”

“And after Canterbury Commons?”

“We make our way past The Capital Wasteland and before The Commonwealth. Avoiding The Pitt and Point Lookout.” He carefully draws out the journey in his notebook. “If we move quickly, we could cut down the time. The problem is, I have no clue where C.I.T is on the map. We’ll have to stop by Dr. Li’s before we take our leave.”

“What if he’s not there when we’re there?” Gyuvin asks, furrowing his eyebrows.

“That’s why we go to the city first. That’s our best bet.” He shakes his head. “Hao is gonna kill me when he finds we went to his hometown without him.”

Gyuvin chuckles. “That’s alright. He’ll just have to give us a tour the next time.”

Next time. Gyuvin gets used to the optimistic language for his own sake.

“You don’t know any places between The Commonwealth and Capital?” Gyuvin asks, manually editing his map to extend past the north border. There’s nothing marked, no terrain, no indications of crater blasts. He swallows hard, noting that whatever exists past the map is entirely unpredictable. They can survive giant behemoth super mutants and violent raiders, but what else will try to kill them?

Ricky shakes his head. “No idea. In the NCR, it was all dry brush. The Mojave just the same. I expect an empty environment with little to no life.”

“Not even places like New York?”

“Sadly, that’s probably ground zero. Not a single bit of that city remains.”

Gyuvin morosely nods and remembers his schooling. The east coast was hit first, New York City being one of the main targets.

“So we have to guess?”

“We’ll have the general idea of where we’re going. We’re not going to miss The Commonwealth, if that’s what you’re worried about. But I’m not sure what towns to look out for when we enter that vicinity.” He marks it down for something else to question Dr. Li about. “But I vote we gather supplies for possible radiation exposure. There’s going to be blast sites at some point.”

Gyuvin makes the note on his Pip-Boy. His checklist gets longer and longer the more they plan. He sighs and throws himself on the table.

“I don’t know how Taerae did it.”

“He probably wasn’t alone.”

A chill goes down Gyuvin’s spine. He’s never thought about it like that. Did someone retrieve Taerae from the vault? Did someone else override the codes? Was it easy for Taerae to get by because someone else was leading him?

He rejects the notion. Taerae is smart on his own.

“Well, our feet are going to hurt. And we might be a little gross if we can’t find a suitable settlement or some kind of river.”

Gyuvin cringes. “Supply of Rad-X, too?”

Ricky sighs and nods. He reaches over the table and gives Gyuvin’s cheek a pat. “You’re no longer going to be clean-blooded. That cute face of yours is going to be teeming with radiation.”

Gyuvin swallows and does his best to ignore the stray compliment, reminding himself that they have a job to finish. It doesn’t even bother him that his body will never be the same.

“What if something really awful exists past The Capital?” he says, putting them back on track to distract from his shyness.

“I doubt it. Nothing existed in the midwest.”

“But that wasn’t where the major bombs hit, was it? Less radiation over there?”

Ricky sits up and thinks. “No, you’re right. Can’t be too sure that nothing bigger than a behemoth exists.”

Gyuvin groans. “I guess we have no choice but to find out.”

“If something really menacing was out there, I guarantee you we’d have heard about it by now. Besides,” Ricky smirks, “at this point, there’s little we can’t handle.”

Gyuvin rolls his eyes. “Confident.”

“Confident because you’re with me.”

Gyuvin panics and throws his palms flat on the table. “Enough. We need to drop by Dr. Li’s!”

Satisfied, Ricky laughs and holds his hands up in defense. “Sure thing, vaultie.”

Frazzled, Gyuvin shoves the remainder of items inside his duffle and runs a lazy hand through his hair. He doesn’t need to look presentable in front of Radroaches and raiders. Ricky mirrors his actions, doing his best to tidy up the dormitory as well as leaving a thank you note for the Rivet City staff. There’s a smirk on his face that doesn’t leave. Gyuvin is ready to implode if the bartender doesn’t return to his phlegmatic front.

They make their way down the hallway and back to the laboratory, nodding at the guards that recognize them. Gyuvin only has to knock once before the door swings open, revealing a disheveled Dr. Li. She gives them a sympathetic smile before ushering them into the lab.

“I assume you’re heading out soon?” she asks with a yawn. “And I’m sure you have a few more questions before you can leave.”

“I need you to tell me where the C.I.T ruins are,” Ricky says, the prior playfulness evaporating from his voice. He gets directly to business, wasting not a second before he’s scribbling down everything that comes from Dr. Li’s mouth.

“In Cambridge. Near the old police station. Believe me, child, you’ll know it when you see it.” She hovers over Gyuvin’s Pip-Boy and slowly scrolls up along the east coast, estimating the general vicinity. “Your Pip-Boy only renders The Capital right now, so you’ll have to trust my memory.” She drops a marker way up the coast.

“And what about the towns we should look out for when we approach The Commonwealth?” Ricky asks again, his eyebrows furrowed and his tone serious. Gyuvin likes this side of him, too. Determined, no-nonsense, ready to make an unimaginable journey.

Dr. Li looks at them with a mix of sorrow and empathy, like she already knows their fate. “The glowing sea. You must beware of the glowing sea.”

“Glowing sea?” Gyuvin asks, already inferring the worst.

“Direct detonation site. An area of land that will never truly recover from the damage. Highly irradiated. You will perish if not protected by a suit or outrageous amounts of RadAway. It is the southwestern portion of The Commonwealth.”

“And if we can avoid it? If we stick to the east as much as possible?”

Dr. Li narrows her eyes. “If you are able to do so, then you will likely come across the Quincy Ruins or perhaps The Wilson Atomatoys Factory.” She thinks for a moment. “But Southern Boston is not easy to miss.”

“Then we will plan on that.”

“Quanrui,” Dr. Li suddenly says, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You must know how sorry I am for your family. The Shens were good people. They couldn’t have known about Mr. House’s plans to evict you. Had I known you were out there earlier, I would have tracked you down myself.”

Ricky’s eyes fall towards the floor, a sallow cloud of desolation washing over his features like the irradiated mornings. Gyuvin fights the urge to reach out and hold him right there in the laboratory, pulling him in and not letting him out until the bartender is convinced he’s safe for the rest of his life. Gyuvin wants to erase that pain until there’s not an iota of it left.

She turns her attention to Gyuvin and looks him up and down. “But you have a good companion by your side. Vault dwellers are righteous people, stopping at nothing to do good. May this gentleman aid you in your travels forever.”

Gyuvin swallows at the sound of her words, noting it’s the first time someone outside his home has said something good about his people. He switches off his Pip-Boy and bows his head.

“Thank you for your help, Doctor.”

“I have supplies ready for you two. You are always welcome within these walls.” She steps aside, motioning towards the first-aid kits sitting on her desk. “And please, for all it’s worth, get there safely.”

“We will,” Gyuvin says, grabbing the first-aid kits and stuffing them in his duffle bag. Ricky doesn’t say a word, that same despondency dripping from his face. He swallows hard and looks off in the distance, perhaps reliving better times. Gyuvin presses his palm against Ricky’s cheek and swipes his thumb across.

“Let’s check the storm, Ricky. Okay?” He says under his breath, not missing the way the bartender blinks back reflective tears. Ricky momentarily closes his eyes and presses against Gyuvin’s touch like a cat.

Gyuvin begrudgingly pulls away, leading the silent man out the lab and down the hallway. He reaches the entrance door and slowly pulls it open, peering up at the aquamarine sky. It roars in his wake, spitting out flashes of virescent sparks. His nose wrinkles at the familiar scent of radiation, one that Ricky doesn’t believe he can detect. Gyuvin closes the door and leans his back against the metal walls.

“Let’s hope this is over soon.”

Ricky doesn’t respond, only nods.

By the time the radstorm is over, Gyuvin is itching to place one foot in front of the other. He’s appalled by how fast the sky clears up, returning to its normal shade of slate gray. The bartender seems to have come to his senses, pulling out his notebook and dragging his finger down the chicken-scrawled pages.

“We’ll face mutants for miles,” he finally says, the two making their way across the bridge and saluting the guards. “But I’m not worried.”

A smile tugs at Gyuvin’s lips. He yearns to raise the other man’s spirits. “You’re not?”

“You’re a good swing.”

“And you’re a damn near perfect shot. We go together perfectly, don’t we?” Gyuvin giggles as they reach land once more. He looks up at the ruins of what appears to be the Jefferson Memorial, a domed structure crumbling inwards upon itself.

“Don’t get too cocky, we’ll have to adapt to enemies in The Commonwealth, too.”

Gyuvin can sense that Ricky’s normal attitude is already returning. Bit by bit, he’ll erase the woes of where he came from. Gyuvin will restore his happiness if it means giving up his own.

The pistol on Gyuvin’s waist feels less heavy somehow, the knurled patterns familiar under his skin. It still won’t be the first weapon he reaches for, but the grip isn’t as intimidating. He still remembers the feeling of Ricky’s hands over his, directing his fingers in the correct position.

Gyuvin recognizes the first trek past the river, comforted by the buildings he’s once passed before. He double marks the locations on this Pip-Boy, determined to return these roads alone and experienced. Ricky doesn’t complain about the slower pace they take, instead basking in the calm before the storm. The Capital enemies won’t shock them anymore than the behemoth did, Gyuvin is sure of this.

Their first fight isn’t anything memorable. Gyuvin is almost concerned with how easily he can wield his knife, slicing arteries and crippling enemies. He discovers that the easiest way to take down a mutant is to somehow disarm them, their big ugly bodies useless without rounds of minigun ammo and lazily-made bats. Gyuvin wins multiple battles by shooting their weapons right out of their hands and immediately going in with his blade. Ricky doesn’t even have to tell him what to do at this point, trusting that his skill increase is steady and calculated. They find that it’s easier to silently fight alongside each other, mindful of their bodies and stances.

He’ll never admit it, but Gyuvin finds post-battle Ricky incredibly attractive. His heaving chest, pumped muscles, the streaks of dried blood on his neck, tousled hair that he smoothes back against his skull. Even the way his voice dips into something darker when he’s sniping from a distance, sculpted hands wrapped around his gun. In between battles he sneaks as many glances as he can, using the excuse that it gives him a much needed boost. Ricky’s satisfied smile at the end is what gets Gyuvin the most. The self-assured smirk of a man who knows what he’s doing. One day, Gyuvin will have that same kind of courage.

They pass the GNR building again, the horde of Brotherhood members still stationed right outside, remnants of their epic fight still littered around the perimeter. A few of them wave, recognizing the two travelers as the ones that aided them days prior. Gyuvin wonders if one of them is Knight Gunwook. He’ll have to visit him one day and repay him.

The two stick to the eastern part of the map, finding their way as far from the main city as possible. Ricky tells him it's imperative to save ammo at every step of the way, especially because it kills time to scavenge. Ultimately, they only encounter 3-4 super mutant camps and a handful of mutated insect brigades. They pass a few settlements with a limited number of people, nodding to the inhabitants that they mean no harm. Gyuvin gawks at the meager crops crawling out from their mounded gardens.

“What could possibly be growing here?” He asks, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

“Gourds, melons, mutfruits, tatos, maize,” he responds cooly. “You’d be surprised at what survived.”

“What the hell is a mutfruit?”

“Mutated apple, probably.”

Gyuvin scoffs. “You people don’t even know?!”

Ricky lightly jabs him in his stomach. “You don’t question what you can find to eat. You shovel mystery meat into your mouth and adapt to the diet.” He laughs at Gyuvin’s glare. “What do vaulties eat?”

“We had food synthesizers and hydroponics. Fresh, non-irradiated vegetables and non-mutated cows.”

Ricky whistles. “Spoiled.”

Gyuvin grumbles. “We were going to share with the world.” He remembers Vault-Tec’s true mission and his mood sours. “Well, I was going to share with the world.”

“I’m sure you were going to, vaultie.”

Gyuvin can’t see his face, but he’s entirely sure that Ricky has a warm smile plastered on his lips. If it had been weeks before, Ricky wouldn’t have believed his statement for a second. Now, he trusts Gyuvin enough to have his back facing him. The vault dweller gives one more look to the tiny settlement and quickly catches up to his companion.

When the sun begins to dip, they reach their first checkpoint.

There are only two interesting things about Canterbury Commons.

One, Moira Brown was born there. And two, a single settler had gone rogue and pretended to be a supervillain, allegedly terrorizing the meager group of people who reside in the pre-war town. It’s an odd story, but Ricky swears he hears it to be true on the radio. Things like this happen in the wasteland. There are only ten inhabitants, including a single child that nearly tears Gyuvin down when they arrive, pestering him with an unlimited supply of questions. There’s a small diner run by the boy’s kind father, a trading post, and one lone empty residence that the mayor offers to the two.

Ricky gladly agrees and quickly sets up their room for the night. All wastelanders tend to take to him immediately, with some already knowing who he is. He’s charismatic and charming when he needs to be, especially when they give Gyuvin shifty-eyes for his strangeness. Gyuvin doesn’t doubt that he would have never been able to convince the townspeople he was harmless without the bartender’s assistance.

“It’s a clear night,” Ricky says, combing back his freshly cleaned hair. He’s littered with bruises and a few different nasty scrapes that Gyuvin itches to tend to. He smoothes down the single bed and whacks the dust off the pillows while Gyuvin peels off his armor.

“Is that rare?”

“Certainly. Maybe more common in this part of The Capital.” He peeks out the filthy window. “Gyuvin?”

“Hm?”

“Have you ever stargazed?”

The question comes as a shock, as Gyuvin has only heard of such things in the pre-war books back in the vault. His cheeks heat up as he realizes it normally has a romantic connotation. He raises an eyebrow.

“You want to stargaze? Out there?!”

Ricky chuckles. “Another small break. Just for tonight.”

Gyuvin sighs, defeated. He can’t resist Ricky’s laugh or his beaming smile.

The townspeople don’t question the two travelers when they make their way out of the building closer to midnight, armed with a single blanket and two Nuka-Colas. Ricky isn’t totally wrong, the sky is significantly more clear than he’s ever seen it before. There are pockets of stars dotted across the black expanse and clouds that don’t appear to be anything other than white. For a second, he imagines himself somewhere safe to breathe.

They don’t stray too far away from town, parking next to a Brahmin pin. Ricky lays down the grayish blanket and wastes no time before flopping right on it, motioning for Gyuvin to situate himself right next to him. The thin blanket doesn’t protect them from the slightly prickly ground, but Gyuvin doesn’t quite notice this when he’s inches away from Ricky’s body. He smells intoxicating again, Gyuvin’s peripheral catching the way the bartender pulls up his sleeves to reveal small abrasions. Without thinking, he reaches over and traces his finger along his wrist injury.

“Ouch,” Ricky jumps, scaring Gyuvin half to death. Gyuvin retracts his hand at record speed, only to glare when Ricky laughs at him. “I’m just kidding. It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

Gyuvin turns away and grumbles under his breath. “Asshole.”

“Hey,” Ricky says softly, taking Gyuvin’s right hand in his own. “Thanks for worrying so much.”

“It’s in my nature, as Dr. Li said.”

“Sure it is. But you’ve been much more attentive since I got shot.”

Realistically, Gyuvin is just staring because he’s in love.

“I can’t have my tour guide dying.”

“Tour guide?” Ricky laughs, lacing their fingers together. He finally peers up at the sky, his eyes darting between each star that blinks at them. “What do you think this place would look like if a big ol’ bomb didn’t take generations of us out?”

Gyuvin’s had lots of time to think about this before. He scoots closer to Ricky’s warmth and looks up with him. “I’d want a career in the medical field.”

“That sounds right for you.”

“Anything where I’m helping people. Maybe a farmer or a firefighter. An EMT, a teacher.”

Ricky rests his head against Gyuvin’s shoulder. “Maybe I’d own a casino, just like my parents. I’d own houses in multiple countries. I’d still be a bartender, just a sleeker one.”

“You’d be rich,” Gyuvin teases, tilting his head to meet Ricky’s.

“What about us? How would we meet in that world?”

“I’d wander into your establishment just for a drink. Something to take the edge off after a long day of working,” Gyuvin says.

He imagines it: a world where his clothes aren’t tattered and worn-down. A world where he doesn’t have to keep his guard up every time he passes another living human. A world where his family was never displaced.

“I’d give you it on the house,” Ricky says.

“And why’s that?”

“You looked tired. Doing good and all that.”

Gyuvin hums. “Then what?”

“We’d talk. Maybe I wouldn’t be super engaged at first, but I would like you.”

Gyuvin scoffs. “It took two weeks for you to like me.”

“In a different world, I wouldn’t have had that problem.”

His tone is melancholic, causing Gyuvin to give his hand a squeeze. He continues the story for the sake of it.

“Would you ask me to come back?”

Ricky turns his head to face Gyuvin’s. “It would be the first thing I’d say once you got up to leave.” He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Would you come back?”

“For a drink, maybe.”

He watches as Ricky opens his eyes, unsurety in his gaze. It’s Gyuvin’s turn to laugh.

“Of course I’d come back. Maybe we’d even become friends. Maybe instead of settlement hopping and looking for lost brothers we could visit local restaurants and take walks in non-irradiated parks.” He catches a glimpse of a tiny star in the distance, its glow muted by the light layer of pollution. “I would introduce you to Taerae, and you’d introduce me to Yujin.”

“Mm. That sounds nice.”

“And the sky is really bright and blue. The food is fresh and the economy is flourishing. No threats of anything, no reason to duck and cover.”

“And nobody is at war.”

“And nobody is at war,” Gyuvin repeats, listening to the soft sounds of Ricky’s breathing.

There’s a beat of silence, filled by the gentle moos of the Brahmin beside them. Ricky plays with his fingers, likely drifting off to sleep.

“Ricky?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think we would find each other in that lifetime?”

The bartender yawns and snakes his free hand around Gyuvin’s waist, pulling him closer to his body. “Why not?”

Gyuvin naturally molds himself against Ricky. “If my brother had never left, I would have never known what existed out here.”

“But that’s only this life.”

Gyuvin inhales the comforting smell of Ricky. “You’re quite optimistic these days.”

“Someone taught me a little something about that.” He curls around Gyuvin’s frame and hums. “We should get some sleep.”

Gyuvin pokes his cheek. “Not out here, idiot. We’re gonna get eaten by a mutated animal.”

Ricky opens one eye and giggles. “You’re probably right.”

And with that, the two rise from the thin blanket, making their way back to the quiet settlement. They lock the door behind them and nearly collapse together on the bed, finding the grooves of each other’s bodies and sinking right into them. The old bed creaks and spits out dust each movement they make— yet neither man notices it.

Gyuvin allows himself the luxury of fantasy one more time.

A man he’s met at a bar, one who’d given him a free drink, one who seemed cold at first but became significantly warm. A man he can tell his brother about. A man he gets to see and come home to. A man that doesn’t quite exist, but the next best thing lies right next to him.

Without saying a word, Gyuvin flips on his Pip-Boy to the GNR station. Ricky doesn’t say anything in protest, simply nuzzling into his neck. To Gyuvin’s satisfaction, a dated song quietly plays. He turns it up and closes his eyes.

“I fall to pieces, each time I see you again.”

The sweet voice lulls him into fatigue.

“I fall to pieces, how can I be just your friend?”

With Ricky’s hand in his, Gyuvin presses a soft kiss to the top of it.

☢️

Velvety skin against his, pillow-soft lips that brush against his shoulder, silky hair that tickles his arm.

Gyuvin doesn’t remember what he dreams about, it doesn’t matter. Every so often, Ricky mewls in his sleep, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips parting as if to string together an incoherent sentence. It worries Gyuvin when he sees it during the dead of night, gently stroking Ricky’s cheek until it eases the gentle whines. Whatever it is, whatever is troubling him, Gyuvin wants to crush between his fists.

It’s a newer side of him, one that never showed itself in the vaults to quite this extent. This potent, riotous urge to hurt and bloody the people that dared to cross Ricky. It frightens him to be this passionate, the overwhelming crashing desire to love him down to his bones. Gyuvin had his fair share of small flings in the vaults, but nothing compares to what he feels for this wastelander. Months ago, it would have disgusted him to even think about the possibility of reaching the surface, especially fraternizing with people of irradiated blood. But now, he wants and wants and wants. Even in the most inappropriate of times, even when his brother is missing, even when his family is torn apart. He still wants.

Normally, waking up is a treat. With their bodies sutured together and breathing in sync, touches that send electricity up and down Gyuvin’s spine, warmth that reminds him of home. He revels in it, chasing that euphoria when they ultimately begin their trekking once more.

This moment, however, is not like that.

Gyuvin recognizes right away that a cold barrel of a gun is pressed to his temple.

Calm, frozen, not moving a single muscle. He’s not stupid, any sudden movements would likely take the both of them out. His eyes pander over to a wide awake Ricky, stuck in the same position with his hands out in defense, the other perpetrator holding a dull knife to his neck. Their assailants are dressed in typical raider fashion, ragtag armor and bloodied bits of disheveled clothing hanging off their bodies. Gyuvin and Ricky’s legs are still tangled underneath the covers, locked together as if to say, if I go, you go.

“Tell us what you want,” Ricky says carefully and calculatedly. His eyes don’t give away the terror that Gyuvin feels in his beating heart. “We don’t want any trouble.”

They locked the door the night before, Gyuvin specifically remembers this. They’re in a settlement, if there is not safe then where is safe?

The raider above Ricky smirks, revealing a set of cracked yellowed teeth. “Caps stash. Now.”

Ricky closes his eyes and breathes through his nose. “In the duffle on the left. Top pocket.”

The raider holding Gyuvin hostage drags the gun down the side of his face, settling at his neck. He taps it against his skin, the action no less than terrifying. Gyuvin holds it together and remembers that he’s stared death in the face multiple times before.

“Unlucky fellas. Sorry to do this to you.” He grins, a sickening scoff following. “Not really, though.”

The other raider digs through Ricky’s duffle, immediately finding the tin can full of caps, their only stash of currency for the trip. He shakes it with a satisfied hum and waggles the knife in Ricky’s direction. “Smart boy. Not a liar.” He pockets the stolen money and cackles, continuing to rifle through the duffle. “What an incredible amount of medical supplies, too.”

“Just take what you need and go,” Ricky says, his voice low and threatening. The raider laughs even louder, the dull knife inching closer and closer to his body.

“Real brave telling me what to do. As if my friend here won’t blow your friend’s brains out in a second.”

Gyuvin’s breath hitches as the man above him taps his skin again. He feels Ricky tense against his legs. Physical strength, contact sports, defensive moves. It would be taking a risk, to trust his reflexes enough that he could disarm the man above him. If the other raider had a gun, it would be a no-go, but he has a slim chance. Gyuvin trusts that Ricky can dodge a knife. He however, isn’t quite so sure about dodging a bullet.

“You got anything in the other duffle?” Gyuvin’s raider says, knocking the barrel of the gun against Gyuvin’s skull. It leaves a dull, pulsing pain. He ignores it and shakes his head.

“No, it’s all in his bag.” He isn’t lying, hoping that the raider will find a distraction.

“Better be telling the truth you little shit. Or it’s over for real.” He nods to his counterpart, motioning for him to check the duffle. Sure enough, he only finds sets of clothes and spare ammo.

“No way? A vault jumpsuit?” The other raider cackles. “Say, you wouldn’t happen to be a vault dweller, would you? They cost a pretty penny in Paradise Falls.”

Ricky’s eyes go impossibly wide, a sort of fire igniting within them. Gyuvin’s mouth goes dry, having no clue what this means.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Ricky whispers under his breath.

“Oh yeah? Why not just kill you and take him with us? We’d be getting more bang for our buck. More than a couple of stimpaks and a meager caps stash. He’s a real gem. Brave of you to be carrying such precious cargo alone.”

“You will not sell him.”

Sell?! Suddenly, the horror dawns upon him. Slavers. Ricky had mentioned them once before.

Paradise Falls must be some sort of human slavery camp. His stomach twists into knots, imagining what kind of awful creatures would subject humans to such evil doings. He stands his ground, remaining perfectly still as the encounter continues. He won’t allow himself to have an ending like that.

“Tell me one reason why.”

The other raider chimes in. “We don’t come across vault dwellers unless it's their corpses.” For a second, his gun pulls away, dragging against the bedsheets. Gyuvin trails his eyes along the worn metal and takes a deep breath.

“These days, you just have to make a living,” the knife-wielding raider says, shrugging as if it’s the most normal statement in the world. He teases the knife over the covers with a sly grin.

“Right, nothing personal,” the gun-wielder says, crossing his arms.

Gyuvin has only a second to make this work. Lightning fast, he pulls his legs from Ricky’s tight hold and kicks the raider in the gut, his gun flying out of his hands but not before a stray bullet ricochets off the bed frame. The two men duck and immediately fling into action.

Gyuvin eyes the gun laying feet away from him and scrambles after it, wrapping his hands around the metal and placing his finger on the familiar trigger. Without thinking, he pulls it, the bullet going straight into the raider’s chest with a sickening bang. His victory is short-lived, however, when he hears the piercing cry of Ricky directly behind him.

He whips around with the gun trembling in his hand, fear racking through his body. The dull knife is on the floor, bloodied and rusted. The other raider has flown out the door along with the goods and Ricky lies in the bed, blood pooling around his body.

Hot, piping anger seeps through his veins. Without thinking or running the motions through his head, Gyuvin chases out the door and wildly shoots in the distance, furious tears blurring his vision. He doesn’t know where the raider went, all he cares about is ending his life. Round after round after round until the gun empties itself entirely, a few townspeople poking their heads out from their dwellings. With the raider no longer in sight, Gyuvin darts back into the house and throws himself on the bed, yanking off the covers to observe the damage.

It’s bad. Gyuvin knows this. He’s bled through the sheets and probably down to the frame of the bed, his breathing erratic and slightly panicked. Slowly, Gyuvin pulls up Ricky’s shirt to reveal a nasty gash across his stomach across faded lines of tattoo ink, crimson red and angry. Immediately, he bundles up the thick blanket and applies pressure to the wound, wincing as Ricky throws his head back and bites down on his hand.

They don’t say anything, a mutual understanding settling between them. Ricky is losing blood— fast. From the foot of the open door, the friendly diner owner hurriedly calls for their attention.

“What on earth happened?” the man says, dashing inside.

“Raiders,” Ricky whispers underneath his breath, eyes screwed shut.

“Do you have a medic in town?” Gyuvin asks, trying to contain the panic in his voice. The tears are already falling, but he pays no attention to this.

A wave of visible guilt washes over the man’s face as he shakes his head. “He’s out on a trade. But sit tight, let me see what I have.”

Ricky groans in pain as another townsperson runs into the room with a single stimpak, wasting not a second before he stabs it above the wound. Another painful scream, one that makes Gyuvin cry even harder. He holds the blanket as tight as he can, wishing the blood would just stop. It happens in a blur— the friendly townspeople rushing to their rescue, Ricky’s delirious shouts of pain, Gyuvin’s desperate attempts to stop the bleeding.

Not once does it occur to him that he’s killed a man. Not a mutated animal, not a mutated human, a real man. Without a second to spare, without a single doubt. The corpse of the raider still lay on the bedside floor, lifeless and no longer a threat.

The bleeding significantly slows the harder he holds the blanket against Ricky’s stomach, terrified of lifting it back up. The diner owner comes back with a curious blue tincture and coaxes it past the bartender’s lips. It goes down with a cough and sputter.

“He’s going to need stitches, not another stimpak,” the man says.

Gyuvin’s face falls. “He’s going to need a tetanus shot, too.” He looks towards the diner owner with tears streaking down his cheeks. “Where is that medic?”

“Republic of Dave, way up north.”

“Fuck,” Gyuvin swears underneath his breath. “Nobody is closer?!”

“Nobody.”

Frustrated, Gyuvin lets his face fall against Ricky’s neck, a wail leaving his lips. This can’t be it, he cannot let him die.

Ricky doesn’t seem to be writhing in pain anymore, the mysterious tincture miraculously easing the groans. He places a weak hand on the back of Gyuvin’s head and runs his fingers through his hair. Despite his state, Ricky whispers words of encouragement into his ear.

“I’ll be alright, vaultie. And if I’m not alright, you know where to go without me.”

“Don’t fucking say that!” Gyuvin screams, pulling back and assessing the blood loss once more. It’s stilled, enough to examine how deep the wound runs. If Gyuvin was squeamish before leaving the vaults, the sight of blood no longer bothers him now.

The diner man momentarily leaves and comes back into the room with another stimpak, jabbing it into Ricky’s ribs. He doesn’t react this time, quietly exhaling a shaky breath. Gyuvin hopes to god it’s not his last.

“This will help close up the wound but not entirely. He is not exempt from infection. The best we can for now is wrap it and wait for the medic to return. We don’t have anything to clean it but irradiated water, and that won’t do.”

Gyuvin falls against a pillow, bright red and sticky. Ricky’s hand is still on the back of his head. “What if we lose him?”

The man purses his lips and bows his head. “Then I am terribly sorry. We do not have strong defenses here in Canterbury.”

He says it casually, reminding Gyuvin that death of humans is natural in the wasteland, happening every hour and every minute. They are strangers to these individuals, random travelers that stayed for one night and stargazed with the Brahmin. It breaks his heart to his core.

“Once the medic comes back into town, I will return immediately. For now, all you can do is watch over him.”

Gyuvin sinks onto the floor beside the bed, devastated. They have no caps, no stimpaks, and none of the supplies Dr. Li had sent them on their way with. Ricky’s face is pale white, his hands falling to either side of his body in limp fashion, breaths far too slow and irregular. His lips are dry and chapped, opposite of the plump pink they were in the morning.

The man leaves with regret, watching with sad eyes as Gyuvin clasps onto Ricky’s right hand.

“You’re not dying,” he pleads, though he knows Ricky isn’t conscious. “You’re not dying before we find my brother. You are not dying until we get back to Megaton. You’re not dying without me.” He sobs against the bed, ignoring the trickling of blood that runs down his arms.

He doesn’t know how long he stays there, in and out of grief while he holds onto Ricky’s lifeless hand. Time passed comfortably just hours prior, with their bodies huddled together. Now the bed is stained and the room reeks of death. Before he knows it, he’s sobbing himself to sleep.

Gyuvin doesn’t want to wake up, nor does he expect to wake up. He knows the townspeople have left them to their own devices, not having much else to sacrifice for their well-being. He’s grateful for their generous ways and vows to pay them back in any way he can. Yet he’s also resentful, wondering why on earth a medic wouldn’t be around 24/7. Selfish, selfish thoughts.

But it’s another man who shakes him awake, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. He swats it away with immediate anger, wanting to be left alone, wanting to die alongside his bartender. But the stranger persists, dropping down next to him. Gyuvin finally turns to look at him.

His features are soft and harmonious, a friendly smile settled upon his lips. Immediately, Gyuvin realizes that this stranger is not a danger. He feels it in his bones, tracing careful eyes over the chestnut-haired man and his non-threatening posture. He puts his hand out for Gyuvin to shake, not saying a word about the dried blood splattered across his palm.

“Matthew. With the Crimson Caravan Company. Additionally, a traveling medic. Heard you’re in some trouble with this fella?” He says it so casually, as if Ricky isn’t actively dying on the bed above them. He smiles widely before standing up and giving a quick nod to his accompanying Brahmin right outside the door.

Gyuvin glances over to see the diner man with a small yet hopeful smile on his face. Gyuvin will be forever indebted to him, and he doesn’t even know his name.

“Y-yes. A knife wound to his gut. Rusted, dull knife.” He peers down at the ground, the weapon already having been removed. He still can trace the shape into the floor.

Matthew says nothing but nods, brows furrowed. He slowly pulls back the bundled covers settled over Ricky’s wound and quietly investigates. Slowly, Ricky moves his body with a wince.

“Good, he’s still breathing. Not well, but alive. He’s moving, too.” He pulls something out of the pack slung around his waist. It’s some sort of disinfectant tincture. He pours it directly into the wound, not reacting to the way Ricky’s eyes shoot open in pain.

“Good. Pain is good,” Matthew says in a strangely cheery manner. Suddenly, Gyuvin realizes the possibility that Ricky really isn’t going to die. The caravaner is comforting and calm, a continuous smile plastered on his face. He relaxes as the man does his work.

“Raider attack?” The medic says, slowly disinfecting the wound. Gyuvin nods.

“The townspeople didn’t know. The door was locked, they must have broken in. They took our medical supplies and ran.”

Matthew frowns. “Yikes dude, I’m sorry. Real common out there, though. Joe Porter says you’re a vault dweller?”

“Joe? Is that his name?” Gyuvin asks.

“Yeah, friendly man. Owns the diner. He flagged me down. You’re real lucky, this is my trading day. I just happened to be in town.”

Gyuvin breathes out a sigh of relief. “I owe a lot of people here.”

He shakes his head. “You don’t owe me anything. I don’t charge for medical procedures, just supplies. I’m a trader, that’s where I make my money.”

Gyuvin begins to quietly cry again. “Thank you.”

“No problem, man. What’s your name?”

“Gyuvin. Vault dweller. From 134.”

Matthew whips around with a raised eyebrow. “Yo! You’re the vault dweller? The one Three Dog’s been yappin’ about for a week? That’s you?!”

Gyuvin feels his face go bright red. Does everybody in the goddamn wasteland know who he is?

“Unfortunately that’s me.”

“Then who is this? Boyfriend?” he teases, rummaging through his pouch to pull out a pair of gloves. He carefully opens a kit full of needles and gets to work.

Gyuvin gasps and vigorously shakes his head. Boyfriend?! Is that what they look like?! Feeling idiotic, Gyuvin remembers the fact that they were sleeping in the same bed when the robbery occurred. He slumps over and groans.

“Travel companion.”

“Riiiiight,” Matthew says, his fingers working effortlessly. Gyuvin looks away, not wanting to see more blood on anybody’s hands. He can hear the whimpers spilling from Ricky’s lips, soft and defeated. He longs to crawl in next to him and soothe his pain.

The room goes silent for a while, with Gyuvin covering his hands to drown out the cries. He briefly looks down at himself, blood-soaked and horrendously dirty. He holds down the nausea once he realizes that his hand too, is covered in dried blood— Ricky’s dried blood. Feeling sick, he stumbles outside the house and nearly runs into Joe Porter. The man quickly stills Gyuvin with strong hands.

“Whoa son, hold on now.” He’s relatively young, with a kind face and a set of dirtied pre-war clothing. “He’ll be alright now. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

And with that, Joe brings Gyuvin into the backrooms of his diner, complete with a run-down shower and a small toilet. He hangs a towel over the rack and hands him a bar of hand-made soap as well as a change of clothes. With the memory of murder on his mind, the vault dweller slowly and silently cleans himself up, fighting the urge to vomit as he watches Ricky’s blood swirl down the drain.

For a while, he sits and allows the water to wash over him, no longer caring that the geiger counter will now detect him as irradiated. He cries, too, letting it all out before he can show his face to the friendly man that saved their journey. Despite all of it— the mutants, the raiders, the creatures, people are still kind. He turns off the shower and scratches the dried blood from underneath his nails, vigorously scrubbing until it comes off in chunks. He’s nearly convinced his own tears run with blood, as the crimson doesn’t seem to entirely wash away from his skin.

After an hour of scouring himself raw, he finally emerges into the diner.

Joe gives him a small wave and beckons him over to the bar. There’s a sincere look of sympathy on his face as he puts down a cup of unidentifiable liquid.

“Just some tonic. Will soothe your stomach.”

Gyuvin quietly takes a sip. “Thank you.”

“You’re not alone, you know.”

Gyuvin knows this, everyone in the wasteland dies.

“Uncle Roe founded this town years ago, only for his wife to be killed during a raider attack.”

The realization settles in. No wonder they ran to help.

“Uncle Roe?”

“He was the second man jabbing stimpaks into your partner.”

Gyuvin only remembers the blur of people in and out of the room, rushing to help stop the bleeding at the height of the moment. He makes a mental note to personally drop to his knees and thank each and every one of them.

“The mayor. Your partner talked to him yesterday. We know of the Megaton dwellers, they’re good for us trading post.”

Gyuvin nods, drinking his tonic. He recalls the curious caravan trader, still in the fated house. “That man…is he really who he says he is?”

“Oh, good ol’ Matthew? Sure is. Been trading ever since he left Big Town. Probably one of the only kids who made it out of that settlement successfully. A real young spirit.”

“Big Town?” Gyuvin isn’t familiar with this particular settlement.

“Where all those folks from Little Lamplight come from.”

Gyuvin stares blankly. Joe gives him a hearty laugh.

“That’s right, vault dweller. Little Lamplight is a settlement composed only of kids. Can you believe that?! No freakos allowed! Or, alternatively, nobody over the age of 18.”

Gyuvin blinks, bewildered. “Do you mean…they kick out anyone over the age of 18?! A settlement governed by…children?!”

Joe throws his head back and laughs, entertained by the lack of knowledge. “Those are the rules! Anyone 18 and over heads to Big Town, the ‘grown up’ settlement version of Little Lamplight. But not many of those kids make it out— you know, not being socialized around adults and all. But Matthew? He’s real resourceful. Says he was mayor at age 14…if you believe that or not. Friendliest fella around, good natured and kind.”

Gyuvin looks down and smiles, trusting that Ricky is in good care.

“He’s our most proficient trader. Comes in every few days lugging all kinds of things under the sun. Weapons, junk, medical supplies, clothing, food. Stronger than a damn Brahmin. Trained under every medic in every damn settlement across The Capital. Said he didn’t wanna be like the others.”

“He didn’t have to save Ricky.”

Joe shrugs, wiping down the counter. “That’s just how Matthew is. Other traders? Maybe not the nicest. But Matthew is a kid at heart.”

Gyuvin allows the tonic to settle in his stomach, listening to the comforting stories that Joe tells him. Many small settlements are hit with raiders on a weekly basis, with most having no real form of defense. Building a town like Megaton takes lots of grit and planning, as well as building up a democratic community. Canterbury Commons, like other small towns, only have a handful of individuals inhabiting the walls. It wasn’t anything they did wrong, just happened to be vulnerable.

They’ll lose a few days, but Gyuvin can’t help but feel grateful for this. If Taerae is inside The Institute, then at least he’s safe. Ricky, however, likely will require days of solid recovery time. He can already hear the bartender’s words— “come on Gyuvin, let’s just go. I’ll be fine.”

He isn’t fine, and Gyuvin wasn’t able to stop the attack despite knowing it wasn’t his fault. If Ricky had died, he may never have had the courage to go on, choosing to allow Taerae to find him missing one day. But Ricky is alive. Hurt, but alive.

“You took one out, that’s good. Nobody here ever gets a good shot at them.”

Instantaneously, Gyuvin is reminded of what he’s done. In the heat of the moment, viciously killing a man with no hesitation, a single bullet to the heart. Somewhere along the way, Gyuvin had lost his innocence. And after doing so, killing someone didn’t feel as sacrilegious. And what then, if he had let that awful man live? So he could go on and hurt more people? To his own horror, Gyuvin finds that he holds no remorse.

It terrifies him, how easy it was to pull that trigger. Would he be able to do it again? Going against everything the vaults had staunchly taught him? But he pushes the thoughts away, keeping the space only for Ricky. He aches to go check on him, barely holding himself back from running to the fateful house. But as soon as he got there, he knew exactly what he’d do. Crumble to pieces, cry so hard he passes out, drop to his knees and start thanking the gods.

Joe seems to notice, giving him a gentle pat on the shoulder. “You can see him soon. Matthew works his magic real fast. I suppose your friend won’t be conscious for a few hours so it’s best to let him rest. But you can still stay with him.”

Gyuvin nods, staring at the glass in front of him. “I’m sorry for the mess.”

Joe waves it off. “That house has been abandoned since the dawn of time. Wasn’t the first time someone’s died in it. Blood stains embedded in the deepest part of the floor.”

Gyuvin somberly finishes his drink, opting to rest his head on the wooden bar. Joe leaves him be, putting out a pack of Dandy Boy Apples in case he gets hungry. Despite the light outside, Gyuvin feels as if his whole world is closing in around him, dark blue curtains that cage him into a box. He doesn’t wake up until about an hour later when the bar is completely barren. With his heart heavy, he begrudgingly slides off the chair and gingerly makes his way to the run-down house.

Matthew is right where he was when Gyuvin left the dwelling, standing at the foot of the bed looking half awake. He sees Gyuvin and immediately beckons him over, giving him a small but comforting smile. Gyuvin must look the worst he’s been in a while, with his eyes puffy from sobbing and his skin still red from violent scrubbing.

“He’s alright. He needed a blood transfusion kit. Thank god I had one on me. But for now, he’s going to be out for a while. I trust you will stay with him until he comes to?”

Gyuvin nods. He notices that Matthew has stripped the bed of the dirtied sheets and replaced them with whatever was in the old wardrobe. Semi-clean pre-war clothing and two pillowcases now serve as Ricky’s resting place, complete with a meager blanket decorated in a vintage floral pattern. He looks anything from peaceful, but Gyuvin notes that Matthew has just worked a miracle. A gift to an entire stranger, even in the most grotesque of places.

“I’ll never be able to thank you.”

Matthew grins. “I’m from Little Lamplight. I wasn’t raised to let others fend for themselves. I’m sure this is something you and I have common, with you being a vault dweller and all that. You are thankful to me, and that’s all that matters.” He glances at Ricky’s unnervingly pale face. “Besides, I cannot leave the vault dweller looking for his mysterious brother to die. I’m sure half the wasteland is rooting for you. Not much happens here besides pure violence. You’ve given us something to believe in.” He gets up to rummage through the wardrobe, letting junk fall to the floor. He finds another spare pillowcase and tucks it under Ricky’s head. “Unfortunately, I’m a bit late on my trade. I trust you can take it from here?”

Gyuvin stands up to clasp his hands around Matthew’s, his eyes wide as can be. “Thank you. If all goes well, you’ll find us in Megaton at the Rose Quartz bar. Ricky will be happy to make you a drink.”

Matthew smiles and nods, heading outside to his napping Brahmin. “You got it. And please give him a stimpak when he wakes up. If he doesn’t, give him the tincture I’ve left so his body isn’t devoid of nutrients. Stay safe, vault dweller. You’ll be alright.”

And with that, the friendly stranger that saved Ricky’s life leaves.

Quietude is often something he looks forward to in the wasteland. But now, as he stares at Ricky’s wrapped body, he can’t help but yearn for the voice that teased him. Slowly, he finds himself crawling into the bed beside the bartender and curling up against his body, carefully avoiding his injury. He tucks his head into the crook of Ricky’s neck and silently begins to cry. He watches the door like a hawk, as if another pair of raiders are coming to kill them for good. He’ll have to sleep with his dagger underneath his pillow for as long as he lives.

Gyuvin sleeps deep into the night, only woken up by the sputters that Ricky makes when he sounds like he’s coming to. Gyuvin is zombified, thinking he must appear like a ghoul to any man in the dark, his features so twisted they might not be his own. The moon angers him, as if it's a reminder that danger is always around the corner.

Ultimately, Gyuvin doesn’t fall back asleep until morning. They’ve already lost a day in their journey, but that doesn’t quite matter anymore. Gyuvin realizes that Matthew has left an array of medical supplies laid out on the table by the bedside. They’ll have to ration them carefully if they are to make it outside of The Capital. Once out, scavenging will have to do.

Around 2 pm, Gyuvin awakens to light shaking. Instantaneously, he bolts up in fear, ready to lunge into battle. To his great pleasure, Ricky’s eyes are open and half-lidded. His lips are cracked and his hair sticks to his forehead but Gyuvin is just glad to see him breathing. He longs to squeeze him with a terribly tight hug but instead slaps his hands on either side of Ricky’s cheeks.

“Oh my god,” is the only thing he can say. Despite his stomach wound, Ricky laughs.

“What, you thought I was going to die?”

Gyuvin is so sick of crying but he can’t help it, forehead falling against Ricky’s. “How can you say that? You were bleeding out in front of me.”

Ricky shakes his head. “I’ve been worse. See?” He weakly pulls away the pre-war clothing wrapped around his thighs. There’s a sizable dent in his flesh, a divet that can only be described as the shape of a bullet. He pulls another piece of clothing away from his left arm, revealing a large scar that runs from his elbow to his shoulder. “I can think of a million things that have happened to me.”

“But,” Gyuvin cries, “The medic wasn’t even in town! You would have bled out if that trader hadn’t saved your life!”

Ricky perks an eyebrow, reaching out to brush away Gyuvin’s messy bangs. “A trader?”

Gyuvin vigorously nods. “His name was Matthew. He was a trader with the Crimson Caravan. It just happened to be his day for trade in Canterbury. He didn’t even charge me. Said he hailed from Little Lamplight and was simply raised that way.”

Ricky smirks and looks up at the ceiling, shaking his head. “You really do have a knack for luck.” He rakes his fingers through Gyuvin’s hair. “I haven’t met someone from Little Lamplight since I first arrived here. Friendly but a bit naive.”

“How are you so nonchalant about this?”

Ricky closes his eyes with a smile on his lips, an undeniable aura of confidence radiating off him. “It takes a lot to kill me.”

“Quanrui!” Gyuvin cries out, his face immediately bleeding into embarrassment. The name had been sitting on his tongue ever since leaving Rivet City, desperate to come out.

“Oh?” Ricky giggles. “You remembered that?”

“I-it’s pretty,” Gyuvin says under his breath, losing the fire to scold him.

“Not many people call me that. But it sounds nice from your lips.”

Gyuvin wishes the blankets weren’t soaked in dried blood so he could have something to bury under. Even when there’s barely any color in his cheeks, Ricky has no issue being himself.

“I’m alive, Gyuvin. Just give me the rest of today and we’ll be back on the road.”

“You’re insane. We’re going to wait two more days.”

“I’m a wastelander. We’re leaving tomorrow.”

“No!” Gyuvin wishes he could pounce on Ricky’s hips and glue him to the bed.

“One more stimpak and I won’t have any problems.”

The vault dweller decides to give up, knowing that fighting back is useless. Ricky is still the one who knows what he’s doing and has gone through every trouble imaginable.

Gyuvin grabs Ricky’s hand and places it against his cheek. “I won’t let you get hurt again. You scared me, Ricky.”

“Awh, worried for me, vaultie?” Ricky cracks a devious smile. Gyuvin is anything but playful at this moment. He stares back with furrowed eyebrows, lips slightly parted. Ricky’s teasing grin slowly falls from his face.

“You aren’t just my companion. You aren’t just a device for me to reach my brother. Don’t ever imply that you’re are,” he says sternly, recalling Ricky’s last statement before he fell into a brief coma.

“I’ll be alright, vaultie. And if I’m not alright, you know where to go without me.”

He continues again. “I want you with me. Now, later, after. As soon as we left Megaton, you became a part of me.”

Ricky blinks, taken aback by the statement. He may have been joking, but Gyuvin is not. His eyes soften and he squeezes Gyuvin’s cheek with weak fingers.

“You really do care.” He smiles impossibly wide. “Such a vault dweller thing to do.”

“This is unrelated to being a vault dweller, Ricky. You have no idea how much you mean—” he stops midway before he finds himself impulsively confessing. He stutters, averting his gaze.

“You gonna finish that sentence?”

Gyuvin vehemently shakes his head. “You can’t die on me.”

“I’ll live,” he responds playfully.

“I hate you sometimes.”

“I suppose I deserve that.”

Gyuvin grumbles and turns his head to the other side. “You need to eat something.”

“Mm. I might throw up on you if I do that.”

Gyuvin slides off the bed, heading to the small stash of stimpaks left by Matthew. “I was also instructed to jab you with one of these when you wake up.”

“Oh, joy.” Ricky weakly spreads his arms to provide easy access. “Go ahead, take your pick. I’m considerably meatier in the biceps.”

Gyuvin blushes but uncaps the needle anyway, hovering just above Ricky’s chest with his eyes laser-focused on Ricky’s arm. He can feel his soft breaths against his neck, close enough that he could lean down and kiss him with ease. There’s a knowing smile on Ricky’s lips when Gyuvin pushes the needle into Ricky’s skin with a wince. The bartender doesn’t react, simply closing his eyes as the stimpak drains into his arm. When it empties, Gyuvin pulls back at lightning speed.

“Much better,” Ricky whispers. “I might knock out on you again.”

“When you wake up I’m force feeding you.”

“Mm,” Ricky simply mumbles, getting comfortable in the clothing. He must be in excruciating pain. Gyuvin wonders how he’s handling it so well.

Without saying a word, Ricky raises his arms out in front of him, motioning for Gyuvin to join him in bed. The vault dweller climbs in beside him and slips his hand into Ricky’s, wishing they could mold together again. It’s much warmer with the two of them, despite the lack of bedding. Ricky’s breathing is much more stable, a bit of pink making its way back into his lips. It’s still bright outside, but Gyuvin will pretend like the stars are out.

“For the record,” Ricky whispers before he dozes off to sleep, “you don’t know how much you mean to me, too.”

Gyuvin doesn’t verbally respond, but his heart speeds up tenfold.

☢️

Gyuvin is going to kill him if a raider doesn’t kill him first.

He gawks in silence as Ricky effortlessly dresses himself and slips a gun into his holster at the asscrack of the following morning. He whips around, perking an eyebrow at a half awake Gyuvin.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“You need to rest!”

“I’m pumped full of drugs, I’ll be fine. Get up.”

Gyuvin groans, throwing his legs over the bed. He makes his way over to the duffle bags and begins to lazily tuck things away. Ricky has already folded all of the pre-war clothing and makeshift bedding. Despite the calm morning, the room still vaguely smells like blood.

“I can’t believe you.”

“We gotta get there some day, baby.”

Gyuvin freezes. His eyes linger on the zipper of the duffle, his fingers barely twitching. Ricky doesn’t seem to be too bothered, continuing to straighten up the house. He notices Gyuvin’s state and softly giggles, ruffling his hair.

“Right. I’m ready when you are,” Gyuvin says, ultimately ignoring the nickname.

They leave the dwelling as clean as they can, accepting that there really isn’t much they can do about the residual mess. The mayor doesn’t seem to care that much, however, simply shaking their hands and apologizing for the traumatizing incident. He recites the tale of his own wife being caught by raiders and how he dreams for the town to one day have their own defenses to prevent any future attacks. Joe Porter is just as nice, continuously waving off their endless thanks. Gyuvin swears to himself that they will one day give back to both the traveling medic and Canterbury Commons.

Gyuvin likes to believe that they have dispelled all of their bad luck. The both of them have almost died before and can’t possibly run into another horrific situation. But knowing the dangers of the wasteland, he doesn’t rule it out completely.

The farther they travel outside of The Capital, the less and less they run into super mutant camps. Gyuvin has lost count of how many he’s slain, no longer scared of their large stature and strings of incoherent screams. They are pests more than anything, making it extremely irritating to move forward when an entire fleet of them stand in the way. Him and Ricky have learned each other’s fighting styles, adapting to effectively ward off enemies. Sometimes they stand back to back, weapons in hand like they’re invincible.

Gyuvin almost doesn’t believe Ricky when he says they’ve passed Republic of Dave, the last settlement in The Capital Wasteland. They sneak by a few rural raider camps until they are walking among a desolate path devoid of life. It’s incredibly disturbing, with half of their view clouded by higher levels of radiation. The geiger counter in his Pip-Boy slowly ticks as they make their way through the ominous fog-like path.

Without speaking, Ricky finds Gyuvin’s hand and grabs onto it, leading them through the darkness. It’s still day, but they struggle to see past a few feet ahead of them. Gyuvin looks down at his map and squints at the icon blinking on the map, representing their current location. They are a few miles outside of The Capital Wasteland and nowhere near The Commonwealth. They’ll have to maintain a straight line to avoid getting lost.

As they continue, the fog begins to lighten up, suggesting that they have just passed a detonation site.

“Was that…related to the glowing sea?” Gyuvin asks. Ricky shakes his head.

“You’ll know if we run into the glowing sea. It’s green— like really green. The radiation will immediately make you sick. The weather is constantly unstable and full of thunder.”

Gyuvin feels incredibly uneasy, squeezing Ricky’s hand as the sky begins to clear into a blueish color.

“Will we survive that?”

“If we pop a few pills and run like hell.”

“You’re not kidding, are you?”

Ricky laughs. “No, baby.”

There it is again. Baby. Baby? Is he going insane? Ricky casually glosses over the nickname once more.

“We don’t have radiation suits, which would be the best method of protection. They cost a fortune, too. The only people that exist in the glowing sea are mutants and the Children of Atom. The same freaks in Megaton.”

Gyuvin silently nods. “Out of all things, I wouldn’t want to go by radiation poisoning.”

“It sure is a humbling one. Surviving in this world only to be taken out by what took everyone out in the first place.” He kicks a strange-looking rock and peers up at the greyish blue sky. “We’re not gonna die like that, Gyuvin. We’ll stumble into a town sicker than dogs but any medic can clear us up with a single shot. Besides, the glowing sea should be right outside The Commonwealth. We wouldn’t have to travel much further.”

“Alright,” Gyuvin responds, feeling a little bit better.

A few hours go by in the uniquely grey part of the east, absent of life and any kind of settlements. Gyuvin wonders how long these parts have been uninhabited, likely due to their proximity to blast sites. They both take a Rad-X, hoping that it will ward off the steadily increasing radiation levels until they are out of the particular area. Ricky assures that somewhere, somehow there must be someplace they can hunker down for the night. Going through the in-between will take the most time out of their journey, which means the hardest part. Without knowing what exists out there, they are left to their own supplies and devices. If they cannot scavenge old buildings and neighborhoods, then they run the risk of depleting their rations.

It’s already almost been a full week since they’ve left, and they’ve only just made it out of The Capital. Ricky estimates that it will take another week just to make it out of the in-between. And despite his consistent confidence, Gyuvin can tell there is uncertainty in his voice. The midwest and the west weren’t nearly as empty as the east, with little settlements nestled here and there. Ricky is entirely sure that the most they’ll encounter are mutated insects and skittish animals.

The two of them cannot tell when darkness rolls around, only Gyuvin’s Pip-Boy relaying the time. Midnight, yet the sky’s color hasn’t changed since passing the ominous fog. There are no places to hide in, no buildings to take cover within. The only benefit is that not a single soul exists beside them.

Ricky creates a makeshift bed with clothing, using their duffles as pillows. It’s terribly uncomfortable, but Gyuvin has learned sleeping next to the bartender mends the problem. They’re sleepy, despite having slept virtually all of the day before.

Back in the vaults, Gyuvin was used to a balanced diet, consistent workouts, and a mandatory health program. Unfortunately, he realizes the desire to sleep overtakes his body because of his lack of nutrients and proper care. Traveling for hours on foot while living off of pre-war canned food and products full of preservatives has contributed to a significant health decline. At the same time, he feels as if he’s stronger. If he was devoid of such nutrients in the vaults, he would have never been able to do as much fighting as he does now. It’s drive, anger, desire— or maybe it’s just Ricky’s presence that keeps him going.

They share a can of Cram and a meager bottle of Aqua Pura, immediately settling in for the night. It’s much colder where they are, the weather consisting of a constant breeze and light rain. Gyuvin isn’t quite certain, but he swears the water stings when it touches his skin. Ricky doesn’t seem to pay it any mind, doing his best to shield Gyuvin with his body. If the droplets were any bigger, he could have been in misery.

They sleep into the next afternoon, waking up to the same state of environment.

They silently continue on their trekkage despite the heavy drowsiness, only beginning to speak when the both of them have woken up. Now, Ricky immediately reaches for Gyuvin’s hand at any given moment instead of hesitating. Gyuvin feels as if they go faster this way, passing the barren wastes much quicker than if they were separated.

It's terribly boring, which would have been wonderful if Gyuvin was the same man he was weeks prior. There isn’t a single enemy on the long stretch of tawny road except for a few different peculiar insects that scurry around their feet. Slowly but surely, the two make their way farther and farther outside of The Capital, the Pip-Boy blinking with each mile they walk.

At the end of the second day, they find a more comfortable place to settle into for the night. A pair of two large rocks that they can take cover next to, zero trace of enemies about. Dinner is Dandy Boy Apples and some pieces of dried Brahmin jerky. While they drift off to sleep, Gyuvin recounts tale after tale of the vaults, exchanging the anecdotes with Ricky’s years on The Strip. Everything that Gyuvin had, Ricky couldn’t have ever imagined owning. Everything that Ricky saw with his own two eyes, Gyuvin couldn’t have ever dreamed of experiencing.

With their hands clasped together, they gaze up at the starless sky and thin layer of fog, softly talking until Gyuvin falls asleep first. It doesn’t take much, with the way Ricky will rake his fingers through the vault dweller’s hair until he can’t form proper sentences anymore. He always stays awake for at least an hour after, making sure that no danger awaits them.

For three days straight, they repeat the same routine over and over again. Gyuvin enjoys the change of pace yet also dreads what could be surrounding them, especially with the low visibility. A part of him yearns for some kind of action, however, not wanting to lose any of his newly gained skillsets. Besides, he’s always looking for an excuse to be right next to Ricky. A good Radscorpion would hold him over for half a day.

Time begins to become nonlinear in Gyuvin’s mind as he struggles with the strange environment. His Pip-Boy and Ricky are the sole things keeping him sane, reminding him that they’re still on a relatively set schedule of waking up at noon and traveling until midnight. Sleeping is the most uncomfortable it's ever been and his stomach growls like hell, but all is well when the reward is laying on Ricky’s chest.

A few more days pass before Gyuvin is actively screeching at his device.

“My Pip-Boy is rendering something!” He yells one morning, shaking away the heavy grogginess.

“Hm?” Ricky turns around, letting go of Gyuvin’s hand to inspect the Pip-Boy.

Sure enough, their blinking marker is adjacent to a single dot on the map, nothing else surrounding it. Ricky cocks his head and furrows his eyebrows.

“That’s odd. Not sure why it would mark something this far out.”

“Maybe we’re getting close to The Commonwealth?”

Ricky purses his lips. “We’re definitely close, but I don’t think that’s why it rendered.”

“Should we check it out? Maybe it’s a shelter?”

“Christ, vaultie. You are fearless.”

Gyuvin rolls his eyes. “There could be supplies! We’re down to one bottle of dirty water and a few canisters of Iguana Bits!”

Ricky seems to be in thought for a few moments, assessing the situation. He pokes Gyuvin’s cheek.

“Alright. Let’s check it out. But if it’s a camp of sorts, we should probably get the hell out. We don’t have enough energy or supplies to fight something bigger than some insects right now.”

At the mention of possible adventure, Gyuvin’s heart immediately speeds up. He longs for a good battle but tells himself they’ll be plenty in The Commonwealth. With newfound energy, he grabs Ricky’s hand and begins pulling him to the marked spot slightly off their straight path.

It doesn’t take much to get there, but Gyuvin’s excitement immediately curbs when the large anomaly becomes visible to his eye. It’s covered in sand, odd vines crawling around the entrance despite the lack of plants all over the in-between. Strange vegetation surrounds the metal, unidentifiable species of plants plastered all over.

Gyuvin feels his heart drop.

It’s a vault.

Vault 125.

Ricky whistles. “Well. That explains why it rendered on your Vault-Tec device.”

Gyuvin steps back, horror written all over his face. He hasn’t been to a vault since he left his own, and he hasn’t been to another one after learning the truth of where he comes from. It’s undeniably abandoned, not a single trace of humans anywhere. Gyuvin’s stomach sours, wondering just how long it’s been this way. Ricky puts a hand on his shoulder.

“You sure you wanna go in there?”

He has to do it, just for his own closure. Gyuvin doesn’t look at him, only nods. The gear-like door is already left slightly ajar, suggesting that they’re not the only travelers who have wandered into those walls. Fear doesn’t seem to drive him away, only luring him in.

Ricky shudders behind him as Gyuvin pushes the door all the way open.

“This place gives me the creeps.”

Gyuvin doesn’t respond, too enthralled with curiosity. He flips on his Pip-Boy light and holds his wrist in front of him so they can navigate the hallways. If Gyuvin wasn’t born in a vault, he might have already gotten lost. But he knows the layout like the back of his hand, continuing past the control room and entering the first main hallway. His breath hitches when he stumbles upon a skeleton, rattling beneath his feet.

“Oh god,” he whispers under his breath, squeezing his eyes tight.

“It’s alright, Gyuvin. I don’t think anything is alive to hurt us,” Ricky says, grasping onto Gyuvin’s arm. “Most vaults…” he hesitates, “most vaults are like this one.”

Gyuvin accepts the truth as it is, gently pushing away the skeleton and making his way further down the hallway towards the living quarters and kitchen. He slaps a hand over his mouth at the state of the deserted vault.

The strange vegetation from the front of the vault grows in each and every corner, emitting a soft yet unsettling glow. Gyuvin no doubt assumes it’s man-made within this particular vault, possibly created in one of the laboratories. He also has no way of knowing if it’s poisonous or not, so he steers clear.

“It feels like something very bad happened here, Gyuvin,” Ricky mutters under his breath. “If you hack one of the terminals, we might be able to figure it out.”

Gyuvin silently nods and continues down to the kitchen quarters, dodging the glowing plants as soon as he gets near them. Eerie quietude follows them all throughout the hallways, adding to the unease Gyuvin feels in his bones. Despite the horror, Gyuvin finds that there are a few cans of food as well as a single first aid kit on the wall. They gather the supplies immediately and make their way out of the kitchen.

Ricky hears the sound before Gyuvin does.

A soft, human-like groan that seems to come from directly around the corner. Ricky is quick to move forward past the vault dweller, fishing out his gun to aim directly in front of them. Gyuvin feels ill, terrified to see what could possibly be alive in this vault after so many years.

Another groan, this time louder. Ricky curses and steps back.

“God, this thing better not be big.”

“Could it be a feral ghoul?” Gyuvin asks, getting into a battle-stance right next to the bartender.

Ricky shakes his head. “Definitely doesn’t sound like one. If it was a ghoul, it would have already gone after us.”

“Then what do you th—”

Without being able to finish his sentence, the unidentifiable creature launches out from around the corner, bounding at an incredible speed. It has an awful screech, dying the minute Ricky fires a single round. The moment is over before either of them can take a full breath, the greenish being dead at their feet.

Ricky shakily puts his gun down. “What the fuck is that thing?”

Gyuvin drops to his knees and inspects the creature, pulling back its limbs to get a better glimpse of its face. Green all over, no eyes in sight, humanoid features but anything other than human. Plants grow outside of its back and all the way down the spine, reminiscent of the ones littered around the vault. Gyuvin realizes they probably are the same plants. In disbelief, he shoots straight up.

“Ricky…do you think these…things are hiding in those freakish plants?” He glances at the corpse and then towards a cluster of the mysterious plants. “It would make sense, I don’t think they can see.”

Ricky kicks the creature, making sure it’s dead. “I hate to say you might be right. At least they’re not hard to kill.”

They carefully step over the corpse, holding their weapons close to their chests in case they encounter any more green humanoids. They round the corner incredibly carefully, with Ricky shooting a single bullet to test the waters. Nothing comes out, so they continue on down the hall.

“What do you think happened here?” Gyuvin asks.

Ricky shakes his head. “No doubt another sick experiment. But this one? Maybe a little more…environmental.”

They come across another patch of plants. Without thinking, Gyuvin swipes his dagger, hitting flesh he cannot see. Something shrieks and falls over, still camouflaged behind the mysterious plant. He steps back in awe.

“Jesus, I was right.”

Ricky shakes his head. “Looks like they don’t pose much of a threat, then. Must have alerted the rogue one and made enough noise that he followed us into the kitchen.”

“You don’t think…you don’t think these were once humans, do you?”

Ricky gives him a sad smile. “That’s the most likely case.”

Gyuvin squeezes his fists, knuckles white and clenched. How could Vault-Tec do such a thing?

They continue on through the vault, taking out the green creatures and searching the dorms for any kind of supplies. They don’t find much besides clothing and worn belongings, assuming that other wastelanders have taken most useful items. Not every plant has a creature lurking behind it as well, some are empty and harmless.

By the time the two make it back to the control room, Gyuvin’s curiosity is killing him. The bartender seems to pick up on this, chuckling and heading over to a single terminal. It glows at him, the letters blinking wildly as he blows the dust off the keyboard and begins to type. The vault dweller watches as Ricky effortlessly hacks the terminal— much faster than how he did in his own vault. Only one try, and they’re in.

“Oh boy. There’s a lot of entries on this one,” Ricky says, scrolling through the green text files.

Gyuvin squints his eyes at the near-blinding screen.

ROBCO INDUSTRIES UNIFIED OPERATING SYSTEM

COPYRIGHT 2075-2077 ROBCO INDUSTRIES

SERVER 10 -

Vault 125 - Plattsburgh

January 14th, 2078

I don’t know what happened. It was under control. Boss said he didn’t see anything crazy happen. The higher-ups sent the fungus down for research. Some kind of entomopathogenic fungus that attacks insects— specifically pests for our crops. Dr. Hart was there just a second ago until he collapsed onto the table…writhing…something awful happened to him. I don’t know what could have done it for sure.

But there’s an oddly greenish tint to his cheeks.

Dr. Coleman

January 20th, 2078

Dear god. It happened again. Dr. Lopez this time around. Dead. On the table when I got back into the lab. A sickly greenish color. Glowing like a Nuka-Quantum. Could it be the fungus? It’s not meant to attack anything else other than insects…right?

It was developed at Big MT. We can trust them.

…Right?

Dr. Coleman

January 25th, 2078

It was supposed to be for large-scale agriculture. Post-nuclear world. We were given specific instructions to develop an effective method to take out pests. But instead…god…instead, the damned thing wasn’t harmless to us. Dr. Hart, Dr. Lopez, Dr. Drumlin…

No doubt I’m next. Had to kill Dr. Drumlin myself…christ…he had no eyes, no voice, no soul. It was vile. I have no way of knowing if this was done on purpose. Why would they sabotage us like this?

It’s no secret that it's spreading. Sooner or later, the living quarters will be exposed. All of the remaining scientists are quarantining and The Overseer’s council is bound to die with us.

If anyone finds these entries, at least you know we tried.

Dr. Coleman

March 18th, 2078

Dr. Miyamura here.

I’m the last one. Coleman…she warned the others before it hit them. Personally, I would have let the fungus run its course. The panic only fueled the chaos and horror. It was a mad house, green creatures running all over the hallways. They infect the crops, too. Leave a strange residue that glows.

I don’t have much time before I’m dead.

They stalk the laboratory, waiting for me to leave. I’m not sure why my body is so resistant to this fungus. Either the fungus takes me to my grave or my zombified coworkers will. Ha. I’m betting on myself at the moment.

I knew going underground would drive me mad somehow…just not like this.

Final message to you Big MT & Vault-Tec:

Fuck you.

The horrific entries come to an end. Gyuvin feels the sickness pool in his stomach, causing him to stumble away from the terminal in terror.

Ricky hadn’t been lying to him— the vaults and their evil experiments are real.

But he wasn’t expecting the reality to be so devastating, everything he’s ever believed crumbling right in front of him. A real relic of history, a real-life example of just how lucky he really was. Vault 125 destroyed itself just a year after the bombs. He could have been one of them— could have ended up as a blood-thirsty plant creature doomed to years of waiting for traveling prey.

Ricky pulls him against his chest and tightly embraces him from behind.

“Let’s get out of here, vaultie. We got all we needed from this sick place.”

Without speaking, Gyuvin nods and lets Ricky pull him back out of the control room and through the cracked gear-entrance. Even though Gyuvin hates the consistent weather in the in-between, he’s grateful for the sandy winds and ominous clouds that engulf them.

Ricky stops him for a moment, pulling him down to the ground. He cups his cheeks with worry etched all over his face.

“Gyuvin? I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have looked at the entries."

The vault dweller vehemently shakes his head. “No. I needed to know. I needed that for me.”

He’s shaking, but it doesn’t matter much. Their arms are looped together as they rest against the abandoned vault. Gyuvin checks his Pip-Boy and titles the location to distract from his racing thoughts. He presses his head against the building and regulates his breathing, grabbing onto Ricky's thigh for support.

“Breathe,” the bartender whispers in his ear, putting a hand over Gyuvin’s beating heart. “We’re almost there.”

Gyuvin stills his trembling and lets his head fall against Ricky’s shoulder, thankful for the quick break. He knows that the image and memory of the vault will haunt him for as long as he lives, but there’s nothing to do but accept the truth and move on. He can never return to his vault with these poor people in mind, he can never return without fully deconstructing the propaganda force fed to him at a young age. He refuses to be a pawn in Vault-Tec’s game, even if the awful conglomerate doesn’t exist anymore.

Sadness, fury, survivor's guilt. He feels it all.

He takes another deep breath before pulling himself off the ground, offering a hand to Ricky. “Let’s go.”

“You sure?”

“I will crawl to The Commonwealth if it means never having to see the ruins of a vault again,” Gyuvin says, his voice cracking at the end. “Not even my own.”

Ricky’s lips part as Gyuvin begins to wipe away angry tears. He takes one last look at the crumbling edifice and wraps his hand around Ricky’s wrist, dragging him away. Ricky doesn’t object, immediately following along.

The next leg of the journey is relatively silent. Ricky allows Gyuvin space to process and cool down, only speaking when he is spoken to. Gyuvin is endlessly thankful for his patience and wishes he could form proper sentences absent of violent words. Someday, somehow, he’ll spread the truth.

The next time they speak is when they are huddled together against a rock, peering up at the foggy sky with half-lidded eyes. Gyuvin is far too tired to continue dwelling on the terminal entries that plague his mind. He grips onto Ricky’s chest a little tighter than normal.

“Talk to me, vaultie,” Ricky whispers, brushing through Gyuvin’s messy hair. “You’re scaring me.”

Gyuvin nuzzles into Ricky. “Just upset. It’s all so much.”

“Mmh, I know. But it isn’t your fault.”

Gyuvin sighs and throws his leg over Ricky’s torso. His breath hitches when Ricky puts a hand on his thigh, slowly rubbing circles into his leg. He sighs in content.

“I wish I’d known. I would have left earlier. I would have begged them to vote me out instead.”

“You wouldn’t have ever known. In some way, your brother going missing was a good thing. I know you miss him, but with the way you are, living in ignorance is the last thing you’d want to do.” He pulls Gyuvin closer. “Besides, I wouldn’t have met you if Taerae didn’t leave.”

Gyuvin looks up, inches away from Ricky’s face. Shamelessly, all he can do is stare at his lips. He wants to respond and agree, telling him that Taerae leaving was both the best and worst thing that’s ever happened to him. But he can’t, because all he can think about is kissing him.

They’ve been walking for a week, only being able to wipe down their grimy bodies with wet clothing and wash their hair with meager puddles of irradiated water— but Gyuvin still wants to plant a kiss on Ricky’s lips, or even on his sandy cheeks. Nothing will erase the horrors of his thoughts more than a simple kiss. He’s ready to beg for it.

“Gyuvin?” Ricky questions, poking the vault dweller’s nose. “You’re just staring at me. Something on my face?”

Blinking, Gyuvin doesn’t have the gall to respond. He nearly squeaks when Ricky’s right hand travels to his waist, firmly planting it there. He softly laughs.

“What's wrong, baby? You look like you’re going to kiss me.” Gyuvin’s eyes go wide as Ricky heartily laughs, body shaking as the vault dweller opens and closes his mouth without responding.

He smacks Ricky’s shoulder and glares, plopping back down on his chest. “Not funny.”

“I’m kidding. I probably smell, anyway,” Ricky giggles, closing his eyes.

Gyuvin would still kiss him. But he isn’t going to admit that out loud.

“We should get some sleep. I don’t want to be awake right now.”

“Sure thing, vaultie,” Ricky responds, squeezing Gyuvin’s waist.

There’s a few minutes of silence before Ricky speaks again.

“But if you wanted to kiss me, you could.”

But Gyuvin is already fast asleep.

☢️

Gyuvin knows immediately when they’ve hit the edge of the glowing sea.

After three more days of traveling, the sickness becomes apparent. The constant nausea, the extreme fatigue, the extra hours of sleep, the sores in their mouths.

Gyuvin doesn’t need a traveling medic to tell him they’re suffering from radiation poisoning. With not a single Rad-Away left to spare, they find themselves silently struggling towards The Commonwealth.

Gyuvin is doing much worse, emptying the meager contents of his stomach every few hours and trying to clear the blur that forms in his vision. Ricky has offered to carry him each and every time, arguing that he isn’t as bad and that they’ll get to their destination shortly. But he refuses every time.

So when the dark green sky casts shades of death over their heads, the fear crushes him whole.

Ricky gently grabs Gyuvin’s wrist and flips on the map. They’re right outside The Commonwealth border. Only a few more hours and they’ll be away from the sickening amounts of radiation. Gyuvin hates the look of pure worry on Ricky’s face, terrified for his wellbeing. He remembers what it felt like to almost watch his companion die and doesn’t wish it on his worst enemy.

“We’re almost there, Gyuvin,” Ricky says with desperation in his voice. “You have to hold on for just a bit longer.”

Gyuvin has lost the ability to speak properly. His throat burns from the acid and his skin aches from any form of contact. No matter how gently Ricky holds him, a soft whimper leaves his lips. But despite this, he’s in better condition than when he nearly died twice. In his heart, he knows that he can make it. Nothing can be worse than what he's already been through— and nothing hurts worse than what he’s already learned.

He puts a weak hand on Ricky’s cheek and slowly nods his head, giving him a strained smile. He wants to say that he’ll be alright, that they’ll make it to The Commonwealth even if he’s on all fours. But he can’t seem to wipe away the sheer terror on Ricky’s features.

Instead, Ricky begins to tear up. He’s petrified, but he’s fighting through it.

The bartender takes one look at the cursed sky and laces his fingers between Gyuvin’s, even if he knows it hurts. Slowly but surely, they begin their way through the sea green.

They pass by all sorts of things. A collection of crashed planes, downed churches, decrepit factories, and even decayed reactor sites. It’s the most they’ve seen in nearly two weeks, but it provides them with no comfort. The smell of radiation is entirely overwhelming, making Gyuvin pause to gag every few minutes.

Ricky violently coughs as they pass a wrecked plane. “God, I can smell it now.”

Gyuvin would laugh if he wasn’t actively dying.

He wishes he had the proper radiation suit to truly grasp the devastation of the humongous crater they slowly pass. A massive, gaping hole in the ground that can only be described as catastrophic. One of the first bombs, he thinks, watching as unidentifiable steam rises from the blackened center. One single breath down there and they’d be dead for good, with their bones disintegrating before their eyes.

Gyuvin can’t imagine what it would have been like to be right there when all hell broke loose. How many bodies exist in that crater? Frozen in time, with no memory of what hit them. He prays that they didn’t feel a lick of pain when they died. It's better to be dead than to live in this world.

There’s a massive cave to the very right of them, ominously looming over the greenish land. There are items right outside of it, suggesting that something may inhabit it. Ricky pushes them away from the area just in case, keeping his eyes trained on the entrance. Gyuvin can’t help but wonder if a human being resides in the cave, noticing the shopping carts strewn around it. Something moves in the mutated bushes beside it and he propels himself faster through the wastes.

The sky only begins to lighten when they make it past the second huge crater, dragging their feet along in desperation. The sea green morphs into a baby blue, giving way to a more pleasant color. Gyuvin’s body is on autopilot, held steady only by the bartender’s tight grasp. He knows that the glowing sea isn’t necessarily a long stretch of land, but being there for more than a few hours would certainly kill both of them. His breaths become deeper the moment they touch down on safer ground, sucking in air that isn’t as poisoned. He can taste the difference, running a dry tongue over his cracked lips and trying to get rid of the nasty aftertaste in his mouth.

They’re tripping over their feet the second they completely evacuate the green premises, latching onto one another with fervor. They stumble into an open clearing complete with a large body of water and a massive tree right in the center. There’s a shed to the left of it and an abandoned parking lot with Corvegas scattered about. A large sign to the right of them reads: Robotics Pioneer Park in bolded letters. Gyuvin has never been so relieved to see an irradiated body of water before. Without skipping a beat, he drops to his knees and sucks a mouthful in.

Ricky coughs behind him and laughs. “Your luck is really something, vaultie.”

Gyuvin gulps down the water even though it will make him sicker, facing Ricky only when his stomach is full of liquid. The black-haired man is widely grinning at a raider corpse at his feet, complete with a satchel of items. It’s fresh, likely killed thirty or so minutes ago by who knows what. Ricky wastes no time before he’s rummaging through the bag, pulling out an abundance of helpful supplies.

“Here,” Ricky says, tossing Gyuvin a single RadAway bag. “You need it more than me.”

Gyuvin vehemently shakes his head. “We split it?”

Despite his state, Ricky throws his head back and cackles. “Share a needle? In this environment?”

Gyuvin grumbles before yanking Ricky’s body to the ground with him. Without giving Ricky a chance to fight back, he uncaps the RadAway syringe and slips it into the bartender’s arm. He’s worked with enough needles to know he’s experienced enough to do this. Ricky’s mouth drops open in shock, a strained ouch falling from his lips.

“You little shit,” Ricky says, but there’s no venom. He’s holding back a smile. “You’re sicker than a dog and yet your vault morals take over every time.” He reaches over and grasps Gyuvin’s hand. “Only drain half of it. You’re the color of the damn glowing sea right now.”

Gyuvin shakes his head again. “But you’re right. We can’t share a needle."

“When we’re dying we can.” Ricky rolls his eyes, keeping a tight hold on Gyuvin’s wrist. “Besides, whatever disease I give you can be remedied by a medic.”

Gyuvin perks an eyebrow. “You’re diseased?”

“Not currently.”

Despite the overwhelming nausea, Gyuvin can’t help but laugh. He watches as the RadAway bag drains halfway, stopping directly in the middle as Ricky yanks it out of his arm. He closely inspects it and narrows his eyes, flicking it once.

“Brace,” Ricky whispers before he slips the needle into Gyuvin’s arm. He tilts his head and scoffs. “This is romantic.”

Gyuvin freezes, closing his eyes and allowing the liquid to flow through him. The feeling is odd, but he’s distracted by Ricky’s comment. They’ll share a used needle before they share a kiss. Strangely intimate, he thinks. The rest of the liquid trickles into his arm, easing the sickness that pools in his stomach. When Ricky pulls the needle out, Gyuvin falls against his chest with a sigh.

“Better?”

“Much better.”

Ricky runs his fingers through his hair. “Will you be okay to walk? There’s gotta be a settlement close by. The dead raider had enough caps on him for at least two more RadAways.”

Gyuvin sighs and nods, nuzzling against Ricky’s chest. His eyes flutter shut as Ricky pokes the Pip-Boy, the green screen whirring to life. Once the map appears, Ricky’s posture shoots up.

“The Commonwealth rendered!”

Gyuvin sits up with him. “Huh? Already?!” He peeks at the device, noting that he already feels a little better. The RadAway quickly works its way through his system, the feeling no less than strange. His eyes widen at the large expanse of the brand new map.

“Holy shit, you’re right.”

The terrain is much different than The Capital, boasting more mountains and no underground subway systems. There’s more greenery as well, little trees dotted here and there. Immediately, Gyuvin finds the setting to be a pleasant change in pace. He looks up from where he’s sitting, taking in the surroundings of the park. If it had been 200 years ago, perhaps it would be beautiful.

“Dr. Li’s estimation was pretty spot on. The C.I.T ruins are across the river.” Ricky squints, zooming in on the map. “Looks like Diamond City is on the opposite side. We’re not too far out.”

Gyuvin scoffs and glances at Dr. Li’s other marks. “So much for staying east. We’re nowhere near the Quincy Ruins or the Atomatoys Factory.”

Ricky pulls himself off the ground, wiping away the residual blood on his arm. He holds a hand out for Gyuvin. “We can’t always be exact. We just need to be alive.”

Gyuvin takes the offer and stands up with a wince. “I think I can hold out until Diamond City.” He peers around him. “If this place is anything like The Capital, I highly doubt there’s safe settlements outside Boston.” He wiggles his limbs and cracks his neck. “I feel fine. Just have to pee.”

“RadAway will do that.”

Laughing, Gyuvin picks up his duffle bag and decides he’s strong enough to haul it around. “As long as we don’t run into another goddamn crater of green goop I’ll be fine.”

Ricky follows suit and grabs his bag, dusting off the dirt on his clothes. He gives Gyuvin an inquisitive look and narrows his eyes. “You’ve sure gotten strong, Gyuvin.”

The vault dweller’s cheeks heat up but he refuses to make eye contact, determined to not let anything distract him from the last leg of their journey. “I think I can lead from here.”

Ricky chuckles, easily falling in step.

The Commonwealth is prettier, Gyuvin’s opinion.

Truly, nothing is necessarily pretty in the wasteland— but there’s more things to look at and observe. More wildlife, more signs, more roads, and slightly different billboards. Every major metropolitan area in the country had their own quirks. Gyuvin finds that without the underground subways, things are less drab. Even the sky seems to be lighter in this particular region, the consistent greyness brightened with pockets of baby blue. Perhaps anything is nicer than The Capital.

No super mutants. In some twisted way, Gyuvin almost misses fighting them. The sickly green creatures are the number one reason he’s gotten decent at melee combat. Maybe the enemies here will be harder and faster, or maybe they’ll all be human. Somehow, he doesn’t feel as nauseous about this particular fact.

He looks over at Ricky. How many people has he killed at such a young age? Does he hold regrets? What did he have to do in order to protect the ones he loved? Would he protect the Gyuvin in the same way?

The closer they get to their destination, Gyuvin’s head swarms with more what-ifs. At the beginning of their journey, Ricky wasn’t someone that seemed permanent in his life. The vault dweller was to be a one and done task, dropped off and sent to survive on his own. Now their lives are interweaved— sewn together at the hands of apocalyptic gods. He doesn’t know how he can live the rest of his life pining for Ricky without losing his mind. He doesn’t know how he’s going to face his feelings once they find Taerae.

He isn’t convinced his brother will ever return to the vault. Gyuvin has come to accept that his home will have to be somewhere far away from everything he once knew. His thoughts remain on this until he stops dead in his tracks, nearly losing his footing as Ricky’s voice echoes in his mind.

“Gyuvin, come home with me,” Ricky pleads. “Please?”

Gyuvin swallows and ignores the bartender’s confusion behind him.

He never answered him. Gyuvin never agreed to go home with him. In horror, he whips around.

“Yes!”

Ricky blinks at him, completely lost. “What?”

Gyuvin shakily takes another step forward. “Yes. Yes I will go home with you.”

Ricky’s eyes widen in surprise, the tips of his ears turning a shade of magenta as he realizes what Gyuvin is talking about. “Oh,” he whispers under his breath. “I thought you’d forgotten about that.”

“I…I never answered you. I didn’t think about it until now.”

Ricky smiles and looks down at the sandy ground. “I thought that was on purpose.”

Trying to hold back a grin, Gyuvin gently slaps his shoulder. “Where did you think I was gonna go if it wasn’t with you?!”

“You’d be fine on your own. At least now, you’d be fine on your own.”

Gyuvin hates to think about being in the wasteland alone, away from Ricky’s side. “Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“You take every chance to imply that I could live without you.”

He slaps a hand over his mouth, horrified by his own confession. He jumps back, stumbling over a rogue rock. Luckily, Ricky catches his arm and pulls him against his chest. His grip is tight, fingers held firmly against Gyuvin’s skin.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers into Gyuvin’s neck.

Gyuvin grumbles. “Then why do you do that? I told you that you’re much more to me than a companion. But you always laugh it off, you always joke. Stop telling me those things, even if you don’t mean them.” He wants to cry, but figures Ricky might tease him for it. The bartender runs fingers through his hair.

“Maybe you can’t live without me, then.” He deeply inhales and Gyuvin can feel the skin on his neck rise. “But not for survival reasons. I only say those things because I don’t want you to feel like you have to rely on me.” He pulls back and cups Gyuvin’s cheeks. “This is a fucked up world to be living in, Gyuvin. If I’m gone one day, I’m confident that you’d flourish without me. I just want you to know that. That’s all it means.”

Gyuvin refuses eye contact, lips jutted out. “It sounds like you think I don’t want to be around you.”

Ricky tips Gyuvin’s chin up, forcing their eyes to meet. “Then I’ll stop saying things like that. And you’ll come home with me. Even if you start to hate me, you’ll have some place to be.”

Gyuvin successfully fights off the tears, shaking his head. “I won’t hate you. Don’t say that, either.”

“Okay,” Ricky softly whispers, pulling Gyuvin in for another hug. “I won’t.”

Gyuvin splays his palms against Ricky’s chest and pushes him away, cheeks cherry red. “Then shut up and keep walking.”

Ricky obliges with a grin. “Your wish is my command, baby.”

Thankfully, Gyuvin is turned around before Ricky can see his reaction to the statement. It doesn’t take long until they’re falling back into a comfortable silence— like Gyuvin didn’t just pour his heart out. He wonders how many platonic moments of intimacy they’ll have before he’s on his knees screaming about how in love he is.

He doesn’t want to think about caving so desperately before the main task is finished.

The roads are much easier to navigate and the two men find themselves entering the inner parts of the city within just an hour or so, occasionally running into their first Commonwealth enemy encounters. The ghouls are strangely faster, coming out of nowhere and in more abundance. Back in The Capital, they’re primarily found in the subway systems. Here, they charge from behind the trees and from underneath the burnt up cars. But killing them isn’t any more difficult.

Raiders are more abundant, too, circling the distant buildings and small parks that litter the environment. The two find it better to just avoid them, sneaking their way past the camps without alerting anyone. They don’t react if you keep a safe distance away. Not as many creatures roam The Commonwealth too, and Gyuvin wonders why.

They immediately know they’ve hit Boston when travelers begin to mill about, only giving them brief glances. They’re few and far between, walking slowly with Brahmin or large bags slung across their shoulders. They look less intimidating than the ones back in The Capital, less interested in starting a fight. Ricky’s grip still tightens on Gyuvin each time someone walks past them, however.

Gyuvin’s Pip-Boy clearly marks Diamond City as only a bit farther north than where they are, the estimated pinpoint glowing green. He suddenly wishes he had asked Hao more questions about his hometown and how they should approach the gates. It’s a privileged community, strict on who enters and who leaves. He’s not too sure if rich wastelanders bother with listening to the radio— or if the news of the traveling vault dweller even got this far. They’d lost touch with Three Dog’s voice the moment they stepped into the in between. In their poisoned stupor, neither had tried to fiddle with the radio for a new station.

Gyuvin notices immediately when the nausea begins to return in waves, causing him to instinctively grab for Ricky’s hand. He stops himself from throwing up and groans, determined to make it to the city. Concerned, Ricky gently pushes him down on the hood of a wrecked car.

“We can take a break. We’re not that far away.” He briefly glances at the sky. “We still have a little bit until sundown. Rest for a minute.”

Defeated, Gyuvin can only nod his head.

With nothing dangerous in sight, the two settle next to each other in comfortable silence. Gyuvin pretends not to notice the lightness in his head and the concerning color his face is probably turning. Just a little bit longer and they can find a medic to clear his radiation.

He wonders how many times he’ll need to do this, flushing out the toxins that were never once there to begin with. How much radiation already fills his veins?

While the sky begins to darken, something odd catches the corner of Gyuvin’s eye. Nothing alarming, yet obscure enough that he immediately notices. Watching over Ricky during nightly slumbers has made him keen with observation. Whatever it is, it’s a living being hiding away in the shadows.

“Can we check the—” Ricky is abruptly cut off by Gyuvin pressing a firm finger to his lips. Confused, Ricky stares back and narrows his eyes. Gyuvin nods his head to the dilapidated building just a few feet away from them. There, something shifts behind the crumbling walls.

“There’s something over there,” Gyuvin whispers under his breath, careful not to raise his voice. He watches as Ricky curls his fingers around the gun at his waist. He pulls it out and keeps it against his chest, eyes trained on the wall.

They wait with their legs pressed against each other’s, ready to jump into a fight. Another rustle causes Gyuvin to grab at his melee weapon, confidently wrapping a hand around the base. The unidentified being peeks its head out from the wall, making not a single violent move. The two men look at each other in confusion.

It’s a human.

A shorter, brown-haired man with torn clothing and a frightened expression on his face. He looks to be around their age or perhaps a bit older, clutching something tightly to his chest. He doesn’t appear to have any injuries anywhere on his body but Gyuvin can tell immediately that something is dreadfully wrong.

“Are you…going to come out?” The vault dweller asks in the most gentle voice he can muster. The brown-haired man stares him down with parted lips, tears pooling in the corner of his eyes.

“We don’t have any reason to hurt you,” Ricky adds, carefully tucking away his gun. Gyuvin follows the same motion and hides his knife. The mysterious man looks them up and down before gingerly stepping forward.

He has soft features— big eyes, pouty lips, a natural redness on his cheeks. He’s wearing a destroyed sweatshirt that’s one size too big, holding onto his body for dear life. The item he’s death-gripping is a collar of some sorts, dully grey and cracked down the middle.

“You’re not…going to hurt me?” Even his voice is soft, harmless and sweet. Gyuvin doesn’t believe this person poses any sort of threat. Still, he keeps himself on high alert.

“You don’t seem like you’re going to hurt us. So, no,” Ricky answers truthfully.

Slowly, the man lets his arms fall to his side, the collar dragging against the pavement. There’s a number lasered into it, scratched up and illegible. He sniffs and keeps his head down.

“I need help,” he confesses.

“Have you been…enslaved?” Gyuvin asks, recalling the raider from Canterbury Commons. He full body shivers at the thought.

To his horror, the man nods. His body shakes with fear as he continues speaking. “I got away…but they’re going to find me.”

“Who? Who is going to find you?” Ricky says, narrowing his eyes.

“The Institute.”

Gyuvin feels his stomach drop, causing him to gag. He clamps a hand over his mouth and uses the other to steady himself on the car. His vision is blurry as he fights off the urge to throw up once more, a terrible headache coming on. He feels Ricky’s palms against his back, rubbing small and soothing circles into his skin. The shock is only making his radiation sickness worse.

“The Institute?” Ricky asks, pretending as if he doesn’t know what this implies.

The man nods. “My name is KI-19. I’m a runaway synth. I need to get to some place called The Railorad. They will help me.”

Gyuvin blinks, shaking his head as if it will alleviate the confusion and pain. He wipes the sweat from his forehead and forces himself to remain calm.

“The Institute…what did they do to you?”

The boy tilts his head. “You…don’t know?”

“We aren’t from here,” Ricky states.

“They produce us in mass batches. They force us into labor. They torture and experiment on us.” He takes a second as a tear rolls down his cheek. “We don’t exhibit any different behaviors from normal humans. We are real people. But they don’t believe this.”

Gyuvin imagines his lovely brother surrounded by these awful people, working right alongside them. He nearly keels over, recalling what Dr. Li had told them.

“You don’t have a real name?”

He shakes his head. “I was created to serve in the experimentation station of mutated viruses. They don’t give us real names.”

“And…The Railroad?”

“They’re an organization in The Commonwealth that allegedly smuggles synths into safety.” He wipes another tear. “It’s my only hope to survive.” His eyes plead with them, big and desperate, filling with tears so real that Gyuvin would never doubt for a second he has a soul. “I don’t want to go back there. I don’t belong there. I’m real.”

Gyuvin swallows and turns towards Ricky, his chest tightening with heartbreak. Taerae wouldn’t do this, would he?

“We can’t leave him like this,” Gyuvin whispers, glancing at the collar KI-19 is holding. “Jesus Ricky, we can’t be bystanders to something like this. I don’t care how normalized it is here.”

The bartender pulls him closer and nods, refocusing his attention to the poor synth just feet away from them. “Where is The Railroad?”

He sniffs. “I don’t know. But what I do know is that they put dead drops around The Commonwealth to communicate with one another and receive intel. I…just have to find a single member and I’ll be okay.”

“Did you just…escape?” Gyuvin asks, realizing this man could help them.

KI-19 nods his head. “Just a few hours ago. The Institute is across the river. I ran out during feeding time…I don’t know who saw me. A few of the Institute scientists are nicer to us than the ones at the top…there are rumors that they let some of us go on purpose.”

Gyuvin’s heart swells with hope, imagining that perhaps Taerae is one of those people, ushering the many souls to safety. But still, the idea is unlikely. If The Institute summoned him, then they trust his loyalty and not his heart.

Ricky furrows his eyebrows. “Do you know what these dead drops look like?”

“They’re marked with a symbol. Tear drop in the center. That’s all I know.”

“On walls? In things?”

With his extensive experience, Gyuvin assumes that Ricky knows how to find a dead drop just fine. He’s different when he’s determined— his voice drops octaves lower and his lips lock into a straight line. Gyuvin notices that Ricky doesn’t seem to ask questions when he’s told to help. No matter how many times Gyuvin will put them in danger, Ricky obediently follows through.

“Mailboxes. Trash cans. Anything you can put things inside of. On the streets, inside of abandoned buildings,” KI-19 continues, this time a little calmer.

“Randomized?”

The tear-stricken synth nods and pouts. “Randomized.”

Ricky looks over at Gyuvin. “Like finding a needle in the haystack. But it’s not like we can’t handle it.”

Gyuvin puts a comforting hand on the synth’s shoulder and smiles. “Maybe we’ll get lucky. My partner and I couldn’t possibly run into any more bad luck.”

KI-19 wipes his big beady eyes and nods. “Thank you, strangers.”

“I’m Gyuvin, and he’s Ricky. We’ve come from The Capital.”

Gyuvin offers his arm to the synth and the boy shakily loops his own through. He feels an enormous urge to protect him.

“I didn’t know The Capital was real. Father tells us that we don’t need to know that.”

“Father?” Ricky asks as they slowly continue moving. His eyes wander to every inch of the area, scanning for a tear drop symbol. Gyuvin assumes Ricky will do most of the searching while he focuses on keeping the synth calm and safe.

“The Institute director. Our DNA comes from him.”

Ricky whistles. “Well that’s fucked up.”

“He hates The Railroad,” KI-19 says under his breath.

Ricky looks at the side of a rogue mailbox, shaking his head. “I could’ve guessed that.”

Gyuvin observes the details of the synth’s face a little closer. Smooth skin, healthy hair, quivering lips. He can’t quite compute how this individual is meant to be anything less than human, even if his inner parts don’t reflect that. Gyuvin can see the steady rise and fall of his chest, the warmth of his arm, the small shake of his frame. He’s embarrassed when the synth makes direct eye contact.

“I’m odd to look at, aren’t I? I know what you’re thinking. You can’t find a single thing about me that doesn’t look real.” He smiles morosely, the small lines appearing on his cheeks. Gyuvin traces those lines until they blend right back into his soft skin.

“Because you are real.”

KI-19 stops dead in his tracks, eyes welling up with tears. His bottom lip trembles as Gyuvin wastes not a second before he’s pulling the poor boy into a tight hug.

He’s reminded of the first time he met Jiwoong, stunned and enthralled by his strange beauty. Confused by the hatred everyone else seemed to have for him when all he saw was a sad, gentle man. Being a ghoul came last. The vault dweller can’t understand why everybody else sees the worst first.

Silently, Ricky comes by to put a hand on KI-19’s head, slowly stroking his hair until his sobs quiet down. There’s a melancholic look on his face, suggesting that he too, can’t fathom the hatred.

The sky is dark now, stars completely hidden by the pollution in the air. The three of them know that entering a settlement with a smuggled synth isn’t the best choice to make. So they continue on instead, carefully inspecting the environment for suspicious-looking mailboxes and dumpsters. KI-19 is reduced to sniffles, silently following the two men while his eyes are fixed on the crumbling asphalt. Gyuvin astonishingly doesn’t feel the effects of the radiation as strongly, too distracted with getting the synth to safety. He assumes it will come back in waves as soon as they find somewhere to drop him off.

In his heart, Gyuvin knows that he’d be a Railroad member if he were to have grown up on the surface. In fact, he’s confident that he would have carried the same morals— no matter who or what raised him. Hanbin was trained to kill, to leave the wastelanders with no mercy and begging for their lives. But he chose to do just the opposite, abandoning his deadly weapon and loving not one but two souls. He’d be just like him.

The wasteland won’t eat Gyuvin alive. He won’t allow it.

Ricky finds the first dead drop at midnight, dashing over in excitement as he notices the faint lines of a teardrop scribbled onto a blue mailbox. Tucked into a corner behind a broken billboard, tipped over onto the sidewalk. Gyuvin doesn’t ask how Ricky saw it so easily. He would have never been able to catch that.

The letter inside provides some comfort for the three of them, with Ricky reading the contents aloud. But it isn’t quite enough to solve their problems.

“Two rogue synths in the eastern part of the city. Desdemona took care of one of them. Report to HQ if you find the other. Black-haired kid. Caucasian. Doesn’t seem to talk much.”

Gyuvin looks over at KI-19, watching in real time as his heart falls. The dead drop isn’t about him. It would be entirely coincidental if it was, telling Gyuvin that The Railroad can’t always keep up with the amount of wandering synths. KI-19 had just escaped, leaving no room for The Railroad to catch wind of his whereabouts. Unless they could find a member, then they were once again on their own.

“How many of these things are there?” Ricky asks, slight frustration in his voice.

The synth shrugs. “I’m not sure. They’re supposed to be everywhere. The Institute hasn’t figured it out yet, from what I’ve heard.”

Ricky shakes his head. “I was hoping it would tell me the whereabouts of the other members. Or something about their HQ.”

“Maybe some of them are?” Gyuvin chimes in, trying to be optimistic.

“That would be too risky. The scientists are ruthlessly smart,” KI-19 says. “You should see what they tried to do to me.” He shivers, and Gyuvin once again fears what his brother is currently up to.

“We’ll keep looking. Do robots sleep?” Gyuvin inquires.

“We can. We get tired and hungry. We get sad and happy.” His sleepy eyes are a testament to this. But Gyuvin knows that the last thing they should be doing is resting.

They continue on down the streets, watching their backs and making sure the synth is situated right in the middle of them. He’s a little shorter than the two of them, glancing back and forth at their stone-still faces. Any time something makes a noise, Ricky is the first to pull his gun out, scaring KI-19 half to death.

They pass by a raider camp, lit up in the darkness by the dumpster fires and hanging bodies of flaming flesh. Gyuvin can’t be bothered this time around, instead sleuthing his way across the street and waving over his companions when it’s safe to do so. His sneak skills have gone up just as much as his combat, giving him the ability to avoid battle when he feels like conserving energy. Ricky often lets him decide when they engage in a fight, knowing he can do with or without it.

The synth answers all the questions Gyuvin asks him. No matter how hard he tries, the vault dweller can’t find anything remotely different between him and a human. When he asks to place a hand on KI-19’s chest, he feels a heartbeat— mechanical, but thumping all the same. He’s immune to radiation and bleeds synthetic blood, telling Gyuvin that the scars heal unnaturally fast. When he gets back to Megaton, he’ll have to pick Jiwoong’s brain in the same way.

KI-19 has a bright personality, too. When he’s not shaking in fear or running for his life, he giggles and he grins widely. He compliments Ricky’s cool-guy image and is delighted to hear that Gyuvin comes from a vault, only knowing of vault dwellers because of Father’s origins. He has hobbies, he has dislikes, he has friends, and he has dreams. Gyuvin starts to wonder if he should pivot his goals to something larger— like destroying The Institute and letting every single synth free.

Why hasn’t anyone in The Capital done anything to stop it? Would Dr. Li have the manpower to?

The Institute is untouchable and ridiculously strong, creating nightmares so potent that the stories reach the settlements 400 miles out. Gyuvin knows he can’t stop history from repeating itself, but it doesn’t hurt to try.

The second dead drop is plastered on a rusted trash can in the middle of a shopping plaza. Hidden in plain sight, surrounded by bushes on all sides and situated near a scorched wooden bench. Gyuvin reaches his hand in this time, feeling around for the familiar feeling of crumpled paper. Curiously, all he can find is wads of used napkins and nuka cola bottles with the caps ripped off. He furrows his eyebrows and checks again, peeking into the dark can but finding nothing but useless items.

“Do you think someone took it bef—”

Then they hear it.

Gentle rustling at the far end of the plaza, clear signs of multiple people sneaking around. Gyuvin’s heart rate speeds up as he recognizes the sounds of heavy breaths in the distance, struggling to stay quiet. He wastes not a second before he’s unsheathing his blade.

Ricky puts a hand on his shoulder, warning him to stay back as he takes a few steps forward.

“We’re being watched,” he whispers, using his other hand to push KI-19 behind him. “No idea how long they’ve been there.”

“Multiple people?” Gyuvin asks.

“Sounds like it. At least two.”

Another rustle, the sound of a weapon clanking onto the ground. Ricky raises his gun.

“Do you think…they took the dead drop?” The synth can barely be heard.

Nobody answers. The silence between them is deafening, highlighting the sounds of the night. Mutated bugs chirping from the overgrown trees, fire crackling from camps behind the buildings, wind blowing against the downed billboards.

“Come out,” Ricky suddenly shouts, causing Gyuvin and the synth to widen their eyes in shock. “We know you’re there. No use in hiding. I’ll find you and kill you myself.”

The sound of his commanding voice sends a chill down Gyuvin’s spine. He’d hate to be on the receiving end of that.

There isn’t an answer. Ricky loads his gun in a purposefully intimidating manner, holding the extra bullets between his teeth with a glare. The clicks echo throughout the plaza.

“State your business,” Ricky tries again.

KI-19 leans into Gyuvin’s ear. “He’s so scary.”

“He’s only doing it to protect us, don’t worry,” Gyuvin answers, just as frightened as the synth.

Without giving a warning, Ricky fires a shot into the pavement, causing the other two to jump back in surprise. The bartender briefly whips around to offer a soft apology, completely different from his tough demeanor. It's just a bluff, but it's a scary one.

Gyuvin isn’t expecting someone to speak from where they’re hiding.

“We mean no harm.”

It’s a man’s voice, a little gruff and deep. When he steps into the small amount of light, Gyuvin can clearly make out his features. Black hair that swirls at the top, large tinted glasses, a casual outfit of blue jeans and a white ripped shirt. He slowly removes the revolver from his waist and places it on the floor, immediately putting his hands up in defense. Ricky carefully watches him with the gun trained directly at his head.

“State. Your. Business.”

“We’re here to pick some things up.”

Ricky glares. “What things?”

“Well that, kid, is classified info.”

“I’m the one holding the gun. Don’t patronize me.”

The man laughs, clearly unafraid of death. “I’m not your enemy.”

“Who’s with you? I know there’s two of you.”

“He’s not important.”

“Bullshit,” Ricky spits back, “I need to know why you’re here and why you’re watching us instead of killing us.”

“Better yet, why are you here,” the man challenges. Gyuvin doesn’t miss the way his eyes linger on the dead drop. He knows. But who does he work for? The Institute or The Railroad?

“Like I said. Classified info. Can’t do you much else.”

“Then we’re just at odds, aren’t we?”

“Put down the gun, kid. I promise you it ain’t worth it.”

“Not until the other person shows themself.”

With an exasperated sigh, the stranger nods towards the shadows, seemingly giving approval for his partner to step into the spotlight. With Ricky’s gun still held firmly between his fingers, the three watch in anticipation as the individual steps forward.

Brown hair. Glasses. A devastated look on his face.

It’s undeniable. It's him.

Gyuvin can’t control the cry that leaves his lips.

“Hyung!”

Chapter Text

Ricky drops his weapon, the metal clattering across the concrete, filling the silent air.

The second he hears Gyuvin’s cry, all the fire dissipates from his veins. Gyuvin, despite his worsening state, sprints across the clearing and straight into his brother’s arms. Part of him is terrified that Taerae will run, that he’ll push him away and tell him to go back home. But he doesn’t— instead embracing him with a warmth Gyuvin never believed he’d ever feel again.

Gyuvin brings a balled fist to Taerae’s chest, lacking the power to hit any harder. The radiation is making him dizzy again and the crying is only contributing to the deliriousness. His brother is here, in his arms, breathing and alive. He smells just like home and his bones are all there, in perfect healthy condition with blood pumping through his heart. He looks a little more tan, a product of seeing the sun for the first time and his hair is a shade darker— but he’s still the same Taerae that vanished from the vault.

“What the fuck is your problem?” Gyuvin hisses in Korean, but the statement lacks venom. He can’t bring himself to be angry, grateful that his brother is even there. “Do you know how insane you are?! Mom would kill us both if we went home after this!”

Taerae slowly pulls away and cups Gyuvin’s face. “She would have done that to us, anyway.” He wipes a stray tear from Gyuvin’s face and shakes his head.

“What?!” Gyuvin croaks.

“I owe you a lot of explanations, Gyub. And many apologies.” He briefly looks over to the synth and Ricky still frozen in place, eyes trained on the two brothers with unreadable expressions. “But let’s get the synth to safety.”

Gyuvin’s heart speeds up tenfold again. The synth to safety?!

“Railroad,” he whispers under his breath, the relief so overwhelming he stumbles towards the ground, nearly passing out. Taerae catches him and hauls him back up. “Jesus christ, hyung. Here I was thinking you were out to kill the synths.”

There’s hurt all over Taerae’s face, his eyes furrowing in sadness. “Is that what you thought? Gyuvinnie, I’d never—”

“How was I supposed to fucking know?! You left me! You go off and join some freakish vilified cult that enslaves human robots and terrorizes the wasteland and you expect me to think you aren’t some kind of evil scientist?!” He presses both palms against Taerae’s chest and roughly shoves him back. “You have no right to be hurt.”

The stranger with black hair catches Taerae and narrows his eyes at Gyuvin. But his brother simply regains his stature and brushes off his clothing.

“You’re entirely right. I’m sorry, Gyuvin.” He steps forward again, desperation in his voice. “Please let us get the synth to safety first, then I’ll explain everything. I promise I won’t leave you in the dark again.”

Gyuvin scoffs angrily, wiping away his tears. “How do I know that’s true? You didn’t even leave me a goodbye note. I risked my life to find you. My friends sacrificed their freedom to let me. And him—” he turns back to look at Ricky, “that man right there gave up his safety just to help me get to you.” He backs up until he feels the bartender’s presence directly behind him, immediately bringing comfort. “You leave me again, you’re dead to me.”

Taerae gawks, glasses crooked on his face. He slowly opens his mouth to speak. Then he sadly laughs, an action that pisses Gyuvin off even further. “I don’t know why I ever underestimated your strength. You’re just fine without me.”

Ricky pulls Gyuvin in by the waist, holding him firmly against his body. “It's okay, Gyuvin. Let’s just get KI to The Railroad and figure everything out after,” he whispers in his ear.

Gyuvin leans against Ricky’s body, exhaling slowly and allowing the bartender’s scent to calm him. “What if he’s lying?”

“He’s your brother, Gyuvin.”

Unfortunately, Gyuvin can’t argue with that. Despite the traitorism, the lies, the secrets, and the betrayal, Kim Taerae is still his blood and flesh— the only one left that loves him.

“We’re bringing you to HQ,” the strange man finally pipes up, lighting a cigarette. “Seems like you were trying to do our job for us. You’re lucky I didn’t shoot you for opening up that dead drop. Thought you were an Institute spy.”

“You’re lucky I didn’t shoot you,” Ricky spits back, clearly irritated.

It doesn’t make sense. Taerae was summoned by The Institute, wouldn’t he be the spy? What is he doing working with The Railroad right under The Institute’s nose? Is he fucking both of them over? Or is he secretly against The Railroad?

“Easy, kid. We’re on the same side here. Your companion’s my companion’s brother. No reason to fight.” He picks his abandoned gun and slides it into his holster. “KI-19? Is that you?”

Terrified, KI-19 peeks his head out from behind Ricky’s stance. He nods his head.

“Name’s Deacon. Got wind of you just a few hours ago. Looks like these folks found you before we could. Good thing too, The Institute sent out patrols not too long ago. They got to us before they could get to any runaways.” He cackles, taking a drag of his cigarette. “Made quick work out of those fools.”

“You’re…here to take me someplace safe?” KI says, visibly calming down.

“Sure are. HQ isn’t far from here.”

“How did you know I escaped so quickly?”

Deacon cackles. “We got all kinds of agents inside The Institute, kid. Like you wouldn’t believe.”

Gyuvin levels his gaze at his brother. “Hyung…are you—”

“Yes. That includes me.”

Gyuvin deeply sighs, the anger slowly fading away from his body. At least he can find comfort in the fact that his brother has no part in enslaving robots.

“Before I take you birds in, who would you be?” Deacon says, narrowing his eyes at a cautious Ricky. “That gun ain’t from here. And neither are you.”

Right, in the chaos of the moment, Gyuvin had completely neglected to introduce his counterpart. He steps aside and frantically makes eye contact with the bartender.

“Ricky Shen. Or Quanrui. You stopped in my bar before you left The Capital. But I didn’t see you,” Ricky confidently says to Gyuvin’s brother.

Taerae slightly dips his head and studies his features. “I’ve been to lots of Capital bars.”

“Megaton. The first one you went to.”

Taerae’s face lights up. “The one with the ghoul?”

Ricky cracks a smile, recognizing that there is no disgust in Taerae’s revelation. “Yes, that one. You encountered one of my brothers it seems.”

“He was very kind to me.”

Ricky nods.

“But how…” he quickly looks between Ricky and his brother, “...why are you traveling with my Gyuvin?”

Ricky snorts. “You should ask him that one.”

“Hyung, it’s a really long story and I’m not telling you shit until you tell—”

“Kids. Wrap it up. We can’t be caught dead with this synth,” Deacon says, putting out his cigarette and stomping it into the ground. “Let’s get moving. And don’t talk loud either or we’ll be fighting more than we want to.”

Gyuvin shuts up instantaneously, pursing his lips and slipping his hand into Ricky’s to further curb his anger. His brother notices the action and gives him an inquisitive look but doesn’t say a word. Together, the five of them make haste away from the empty dead drop.

The Railroad HQ is located inside a desecrated church complete with feral ghoul corpses spread about. The catacombs are hidden deep within the walls, found only by the muscle memory of Deacon’s fingers. When they enter the stuffy underground, Gyuvin begins to see black spots clouding his vision.

Without skipping a beat, Ricky immediately supports Gyuvin’s entire weight and puts him down onto the nearest chair. “He needs a RadAway, now,” he says sternly, paying no mind to the strangers lingering around them.

A middle-aged brunette woman comes rushing over, a collection of supplies in her hands. She drops down in front of the vault dweller and fishes out two RadAways. Without properly introducing herself, she slips a needle into his arm and starts the process. Ricky still has Gyuvin’s hand in his.

“Thank you,” Gyuvin whispers, leaning his head back onto the wood.

“Des, it’s him,” Taerae says from behind, joining the woman on the floor. “He’s my brother.”

The woman’s mouth parts in surprise as she quickly looks between the two of them. Finally, a smile creeps onto her face. “Well. What a handsome pair of young men.” She peers up at Ricky. “And who are you?”

“His partner.”

Though Gyuvin knows what Ricky means, his heart still skips a beat.

“So, your runaway brother found his way out into the wasteland?”

“And the first thing he does when he gets here is try to smuggle a synth to safety,” Taerae says with a proud smile.

“I didn’t doubt for a second he’d have a kind soul like you, Taerae,” the woman says, gently squeezing the RadAway bag to ensure all the contents flow through Gyuvin’s body.

Gyuvin groans at the slightly nauseating feeling, closing his eyes. Ricky runs a comforting hand through his hair, wiping away the sweat on his forehead.

“So…” Taerae awkwardly coughs. “Ricky…when you say partner…do you mean—”

“Travel companion,” Ricky quickly corrects, “but you could say he can’t live without me.”

Gyuvin opens one eye to glare at him. Ricky’s smiling, back to his usual self. The intimidating, terrifying sniper Ricky has dissipated and all that’s left is a man who knows he’s in safe hands.

“On a serious note, you should probably know that your brother here nearly died…twice.” Ricky crosses his arms. “Ghouls…raiders…all before we even left.”

“Before you even liked me,” Gyuvin grumbles under his breath.

Ricky squeezes Gyuvin’s cheeks and frowns. “There’s not one second where I didn’t like you.”

Gyuvin’s mouth drops open in shock, confusion written all over his face. Ricky only chuckles and smooths his thumb over Gyuvin’s cheeks.

“It’s so easy to surprise you. How cute.”

Taerae narrows his eyes and looks between the two of them lost in their own world. His face is melancholic, however, full of distraught and concern.

“Gyuvinnie…what do you mean you almost died twice?”

Gyuvin’s smile falls from his face as the first RadAway completely drains. The Railroad woman quickly replaces it with a fresh one. He thinks about the scars now dotted along his backside, remnants of his rough beginnings on the surface.

“The first time was on the way to Megaton. Ghouls. The second time was trying to get away from Megaton. Deathclaw.”

Taerae clamps a hand over his mouth with wide eyes. “Jesus, Gyuvin. A deathclaw?!” He sighs and reaches over to take Gyuvin’s free hand, squeezing it tightly. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you. I should’ve been there. I just thought that you’d have found the holotape for sure. Considering how—”

Both Gyuvin and Ricky’s eyes snap to Taerae, confusion written all over their features. The Railroad woman pauses what she’s doing and remains quiet, looking over at the three men. Gyuvin can’t hear anything but the heartbeat in his throat.

“Tae…what?!”

“I didn’t mention it earlier because you were rightfully furious with me but Gyuvin…I left a holotape on the bedside table moments before I left. You didn’t…see it?”

Gyuvin can feel his eyes brimming with tears as he slowly shakes his head. So his brother did leave a message behind.

“There was nothing by my bedside. Nothing.”

Taerae closes his eyes and growls under his breath. “That evil woman.” He wipes away Gyuvin’s tears with silent anger.

“What do you mean? Hyung? Tell me,” Gyuvin pleads.

“A day before I left, she caught wind of what I was planning to do. She knew that I was going to leave. I have no doubt that she wiped any memory of me, including what I tried to leave behind for you.”

Gyuvin doesn’t know how to explain his feelings. Relief, fury, heartbreak. It’s a confirmation that his mother is not a good person, and a confirmation that Taerae did leave with a goodbye. But it also leaves more questions for him to mull over— what is everyone hiding?

Gyuvin loosely bunches up Taerae’s shirt in his hand. “You need to tell me. Everything. Not later, not tomorrow. Right here. Tell me right now.”

“Gyuvin, are you sure you can handle this right—”

“Kim Taerae! I traveled nearly 600 miles on foot to find you.”

His brother purses his lips and nods, bringing up a chair to comfortably spill his secrets. He glances at Ricky’s stone-still expression, appearing nervous to reveal the truths Gyuvin has so desperately been searching for.

“Desdemona,” he whispers at The Railroad woman, “you’re going to have to trust that my brother and his companion can keep a secret.”

She slides the needle out of Gyuvin’s arm and nods, trashing the second RadAway. “He came all the way here for a reason. Go ahead and tell him.”

Taerae takes a deep breath as Ricky crosses his arms in anticipation.

“Two months ago, The Institute made contact with the remaining vaults. There’s only a handful that are still alive and well— 134 being one of them,” he starts. “It was an exchange of knowledge. They told me what they knew, and I told them what I knew. After a few days, they invited me to their headquarters.”

“But why?” Gyuvin asks.

“We’ve had medical breakthroughs in our laboratory. You can thank dad for that. They wanted to hire me, Gyuvinnie. But that meant breaking out of the vault and getting away from mom’s grasp.”

“So you left.”

“I escaped. In that holotape, I told you that I would come back as soon as possible. But not to stay. I was going to get you out of that vault, Gyuvin. No way I was going to let you spend another year under that woman’s watch. The plan was to get to The Institute, do what they wanted me to do, and use my resources to pull you out.”

Gyuvin’s head is swimming, struggling to process the information. If his mother hadn’t purged the holotape, maybe he could have waited things out. But what about Ricky? If he hadn’t met him? And why get him out? Could he not have a happy life in the vaults?

“Why didn’t you take me with you the first time? I could have handled it!” Gyuvin says, slightly raising his voice.

Taerae shakes his head. “I couldn’t risk it. It’s true that I underestimated your strength but Gyuvinnie,” he pauses for a moment to cup Gyuvin’s face in his hands, “I barely got out myself. I don’t want to know what would have happened if you’d somehow been caught in the crossfire. I don’t even know how you got out yourself.”

Gyuvin sniffs away his tears and looks down at his lap. “And you didn’t think about freeing the others? What about Keita! And Marcel!” His voice cracks as he says their names out loud, something he hasn’t done in weeks. “What about them?!”

Taerae looks guilty when he pulls back, finding the right words to respond with.

“I wouldn’t be able to save everyone, Gyuvin. Not with the grip the council has on everyone. It would be cruel to reveal the truth to everyone, to ruin everyone’s perception of our home.”

“What truth?” Gyuvin hisses.

“Gyuvin, our mother…she’s not who you think he is.”

Gyuvin is silent, expecting the worst. He’s had a gut feeling for years now but chose to fight against it. He lost all respect and love for his mother the moment she refused to allow Taerae back into the vault. The only thing he misses about his vault are his friends— ones that may or may not be alive.

“Dad…he didn’t die from an illness like you were told. Gyuvinnie…” Taerae takes a moment, looking at his brother in pure sadness. The bartender immediately moves closer to Gyuvin, ready to hold him at any moment.

“Hyung,” Gyuvin’s lips tremble, “what happened to dad?”

A single tear rolls down Taerae’s cheek. “She killed him.” He gives his brother a sad smile. “The moment he showed interest in changing the way the council worked, she killed him and took his place. Our father…was a real Overseer, Gyuvin. He was going to change things. He was going to make things safe for us.”

Gyuvin lets out a choked sob, immediately falling against Ricky’s chest. He claws at the bartender’s arms and pulls him so tight he nearly stumbles. Nausea is replaced with deep sorrow, curiosity replaced with fervent anger. Despite always being suspicious about his father’s death, Gyuvin refused to think for one second his mother could go that far.

“Her family…they were elites in South Korea. They were major shareholders in Vault-Tec industries. She was loyal to them and to them only. She had no intention of changing the way the vault worked.”

Gyuvin angrily wipes his tears, keeping one hand slotted with Ricky’s. “I know about the experiments,” he chokes out. “We weren’t even supposed to make it.”

Taerae looks down in melancholy. “It wasn’t just the experiment of culture clash…there are other things you don’t know.” He watches as Ricky smooths a hand over Gyuvin’s back. “Our annual voting for wasteland research…Gyuvin…that’s not what really happens.”

“Christ,” Ricky mutters under his breath as Gyuvin clings to him.

“Gyuvin, Marcel’s brother isn’t alive. He never made it out to the wasteland. The letters his brother receives…they are forged by the council. They vote on who they experiment on. He died within our walls, Gyuvin. Our vault killed him, not the wasteland.”

“Stop it,” Gyuvin whispers in pain, thankful that Ricky is at least there to comfort him. “There can’t be more.”

“When you left the vault, did you see the flowers?”

Gyuvin forces himself to recall the moment he stepped outside and into the burning sun, trudging through the sickening nuclear waste. The mutated black flowers that he’d never seen before— never studied in his neglected botanic courses, curled around the barrels and wooden entrance. His breath catches in his throat, terrified to hear the next sentence from his brother’s lips.

“Dahlias. They plant them on the bodies that perish during experiments. The fresher the flower, the newer the corpse. Marcel’s brother is never coming home.” He takes a deep breath before he continues again. “Clinical test subjects are always voted out first, Gyuvin. I was going to come back for you because they were going to kill you.”

Gyuvin coughs as he recalls Marcel's innocent voice.

“Maybe you’ll be one of the chosen ones one day, yeah?” Marcel had said, squeezing his cheeks together. “Maybe they will choose you to send out when you hit 25, like my brother!”

“How…how do you know all this?” Gyuvin cries harder, not enough energy to continuously wipe away the tears. Ricky does it for him. “Why is this information you have?!”

He thinks back to when he was 18, just two years ago, stepping into his lab for the first time only to be doomed to a life of being useless. Poked, prodded, scolded— all for the purpose of science. It would make sense to vote him out first, Marcel’s brother was also a clinical test subject.

“They voted me in as lead scientist six months ago. I was a loose member of the council and I knew everything that went on because of it. They made the fatal mistake of trusting me— only because I am my mother’s son. They failed to understand the only loyalty I have is to my family. My real family. You and dad. That’s it.”

“And he tried to stop it?” Gyuvin says quietly.

“He tried to stop it,” Taerae confirms. “He did what he could. But leadership in the vaults is strict and cruel— experiments are to be carried on no matter how dead Vault-Tec Industries is. Our mother expects the company to still exist in the wastes, ready to take over when the earth cleanses itself. Brainwashed. All of them.”

There’s a few minutes of silence where Taerae allows his brother to recuperate, not wanting to overwhelm him with more information. Desdemona says nothing, letting the two brothers speak.

“Then did you know about The Institute’s sick agenda of robot slavery?!” Ricky jumps into the conversation, narrowing his eyes. Taerae groans in frustration.

“God no! I had no idea we as a society were even capable of creating such things! The director only mentioned wanting me in his laboratory for scientific reasons. He said nothing about the synth operations! Believe me— I had no idea. I would never stand for something like that.” He turns back to his brother. “Gyuvinnie, did you really think I would have done something like that?” His eyes are glossy, reflecting the dirty brick interior of the headquarters.

“I-I couldn’t have known any better. If mom discarded the only clue I had of you, how was I supposed to know you didn’t leave for evil purposes?” Gyuvin cries out. Taerae violently shakes his head and puts a firm hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“The moment I found out what was going on, I seeked out The Railroad. One of the first people I befriended at The Institute was a synth. I couldn’t just let that go on and watch it all happen.”

“Then you are betraying them?”

Taerae slowly nods. “I am doing what they ask of me. Only what they ask of me. I will help with their advancements but I will not stand for their oppression.” He squeezes Gyuvin’s shoulder. “We are vault dwellers, Gyuvin. Despite the monster our mother is, we will maintain the morals of how we were raised.”

Relief floods Gyuvin’s system as he sniffs and nods, allowing Ricky to wipe the last of his tears. The information swirls around in his mind, clouding his thoughts and filling in all the little gaps. His father’s murder, his mother’s evil intentions, the misconceptions he had about his own flesh and blood.

Taerae is not evil. Gyuvin didn’t venture across the wasteland for a man that would only disappoint him. Though he has his faults, he isn’t like their mother. She couldn’t take away the heart of their father.

He recalls the last conversation he had with Taerae before he vanished.

Gyuvin grumbled, leaning into Taerae’s side. “Hyung, is it fun? To be a scientist? I’ve always wondered.”

Taerae’s face was unreadable. His lips pursed into a thin line. “You must accept what is true in this world, especially when you can control parts of it.”

He understands him now.

☢️

Gyuvin only stops crying when a few hours have passed.

He’s given a comfortable bed in the HQ, where he curls up into a ball and sinks into the mattress wishing to disappear into it. He relays the conversation over and over again until he can recite Taerae’s confessions word for word. Only the distant chatter of The Railroad members comforts him.

KI-19 is safe in their hands, being introduced to the other runaway synths that The Railroad has stored away in their walls. He’d thanked everyone a million times with a tight hug and a tearful smile. Gyuvin makes a note to himself that wherever he ends up, he’ll make sure to keep in contact with him.

He doesn’t jump when the door opens, slowly creaking against the wood as a familiar figure walks in. He’s out of his travel-wear and in something a little more comfortable, wet bangs falling over his forehead. Gyuvin scrubs away the dried tears and does his best to look presentable in the bartender’s presence.

“Gyuvin? Are you alright?” Ricky’s soft voice fills his ears. He stalks over and sits on the edge of the bed, putting a hand on Gyuvin’s thigh. “Do you want me to stay with you tonight?”

Nodding, Gyuvin sits upright.

“I know, it’s a lot. Once upon a time I had to accept hard truths as they were, too. But once you do that, it gets easier from here on out,” Ricky says, wetting his thumb and wiping off the remaining dried tears on Gyuvin’s cheeks. “You are strong, my love. You will be okay.”

Gyuvin stares, lips parted. “My…love?” He needs this distraction.

Ricky’s eyes widen as he slightly pulls back. Something in his expression changes, however, and he looks down while gently laughing. “I guess there’s one other thing you don’t know.”

Gyuvin doesn’t say a word, eagerly waiting for Ricky to continue his statement.

“I was terrified of you at the beginning. Which is silly to think about now— considering how deeply I’ve fallen in love with you.”

Gyuvin gasps, clamping a hand over his mouth and clambering backwards. He can’t seem to form words, only able to stare down his companion with widened eyes.

Ricky?! In love with him?! During their time together, Gyuvin didn’t believe for one moment his feelings would ever be reciprocated.

“I wished you kissed me at the GNR building. Or in Rivet City. Or in the in-between.” He chuckles. “Honestly, I wish I just kissed you myself.” He puts a hand on Gyuvin’s cheek, eyes locked onto his lips. “I knew you wanted to kiss me, too. You wear your heart on your sleeve, vaultie.”

“I…that’s not true!” Gyuvin blurts out in embarrassment.

“Mm, so you don’t want to kiss me right now?”

Ricky swipes his thumb over Gyuvin’s cheek with a sweet smile on his face. Without thinking, Gyuvin grabs Ricky’s hand and brings his lips to his knuckles, pressing small kisses to each one. He doesn’t look up when Ricky moves closer to his body, allowing the bartender to close the distance between them.

“Gyuvin?” Ricky whispers under his breath, inches away.

“Kiss me,” Gyuvin answers back equally as soft, hiding the desperation in his voice. His whole body runs with nerves, lit with desire as the bartender gently connects their lips together.

Gyuvin knows they should have done this a long time ago. If he wasn’t so preoccupied with getting to Taerae, perhaps they could have spent their traveling nights lazily kissing. Ricky kisses just as gently as Gyuvin imagined, all soft and sweet. He holds Gyuvin tightly as he tilts his head, catching Gyuvin’s bottom lip between his teeth. He pulls away for one moment to press kisses to his cheeks and all the way down to the sides of his neck, light and careful.

Gyuvin thinks he deserves this level of bliss after everything that has transpired. He’s ready to be vulnerable— ready to open himself up for Ricky to take as much as he wants. He doesn’t have to think about the vault right now, or his mother, or his friends. All he can think about is how wonderful Ricky’s lips feel on his body.

When the bartender finally pulls away, Gyuvin has to stop himself from chasing after him. Instead, he rests his forehead against Ricky’s and takes a deep breath.

“I didn’t think you felt the same way,” Gyuvin croaks. “You hated me so much when we first—”

Ricky cuts him off with a kiss. “And I will live my entire life making it up to you.” Another kiss. “Traveling the wasteland with you taught me everything I need to know about vault dwellers. That it was a mistake to not have trusted you sooner.” He pulls Gyuvin in for a crushing hug. “Gyuvin, I love you.”

The words ring in Gyuvin’s ears— the exact tone of his voice, where his hands are placed, what he smells like. Even when he repeats the statement three times more, squeezing Gyuvin so tight he might as well pop.

There’s so much Gyuvin yearns to ask. When did this start? How long have you loved me as much as I’ve loved you? How could you say there wasn’t one moment you disliked me when you feared me for weeks? What does our future look like?

But he can only say one thing back.

“I love you too.”

☢️

The Commonwealth is enjoyable when you’re with someone.

The Railroad HQ is less stuffy when there’s laughter coming from every room. Things are less desolate when saving people is your main priority. Recovery is easy when you’re with people you love.

For a week, Gyuvin is told to stay put and recover. Though he was only suffering from a severe case of radiation poisoning, The Railroad members tended to his every need. And though his brother leaves every few days to The Institute, he always comes back to check on him.

Gyuvin has lost count of the many times Ricky says he loves him. Or how many times he holds him when he cries, or when he kisses the tears off his cheeks, or when he calms his nightmares. Returning to The Capital wasteland doesn’t intimidate him anymore, knowing that he will now spend his nights with the knowledge that his companion adores him.

They don’t talk about the vault. Ricky knows that it’s the last thing Gyuvin wants to dwell on. He’s found his brother, he’s found the love of his life, and he’s found a purpose on the surface. Instead, he focuses his attention to helping Desdemona with dead drops and Deacon with integrating runaway synths into society. In another life, maybe he could be happy doing this for the rest of his years. In another life, he was born to fight the propaganda before his head was filled with it.

One night Taerae returns from The Institute HQ with a collection of extinct vegetables, fresh from the lab. He places them on the desk and presents them proudly, stating that they are his brand new trials of bok choy and spring onion— the most organic seeds they could possibly achieve. The dark lights illuminate his tanned skin, his large smile being the brightest thing in the room. He always greets Gyuvin with a hug and a quick ruffle of the hair, asking him how he’s feeling and if he feels like talking.

It’s been the elephant in the room, the topic of what exactly Gyuvin went through to get to him. Even more of a mystery when you throw the topic of Ricky Shen in the mix. Gyuvin can’t possibly know what his brother is thinking, considering he essentially showed up half dead with a boyfriend. But he knows he’ll have to start the conversation at some point, unsatisfied with how many people were present the last time they spoke freely.

“Hyung,” Gyuvin grins as his brother sits next to him. “Are you really gonna cook with those?”

Taerae laughs. “Of course! And then we’re gonna bring them to settlements around the wastes. But not before making sure they’re safe, of course.”

Gyuvin wrinkles his nose, reminded of the many things he had to consume back in the vault during experimental trials. “You’re not gonna make me the guinea pig, are you?”

Taerae snorts and shakes his head. “Of course not. I’m eating them first, nobody else. But really, they’re safe, Gyuvinnie.” He briefly gets up to snap off a bok choy leaf, dusting off the soil and putting it in his mouth. “See? Safe. Just like pre-war veggies.”

Gyuvin rolls his eyes and motions for his brother to come sit back down. “Is it always veggies?”

Though Taerae has done a much better job at opening up, Gyuvin still doesn’t know the extent of what he does in the laboratory. He knows that his profession is within the medical field but doesn’t understand the days when Taerae brings home things aligned with agriculture or biology. He isn’t familiar with the luxury of having his questions being directly answered, too accustomed with living in the dark.

“My colleague gave them to me. Sometimes I dabble in planting seeds,” he smiles. “Reminds me of when we were younger.”

Farming was mandatory, though Gyuvin hated nothing more. The soil and dirt got stuck in his shoes and he found the fertilizer smell to haunt him in his sleep. But Taerae had always loved it, excited to track its progress.

“What else do you do there?” Gyuvin tests his luck.

“Research on viral diseases, research on radiation, research on the human body after 200 years of living in the apocalypse.” He grins and nudges Gyuvin’s shoulder. “Why? You wanna join?”

Gyuvin purses his lips and shakes his head. “Sometimes I feel like I don’t know you as well as I want to.” He looks down and twiddles his thumbs. “Its not like we’ve spoken much since the first day I found you.”

Taerae sighs and grabs his hands. “And that’s my fault. I should have told you what I was going to do when I was doing it. I was so careful to keep you safe, Gyuvin. I didn’t think for one moment that the safest option was to tell you everything. So from now on, no secrets between us. You deserve to know everything, and I will tell you everything.” He hooks his pinky finger around Gyuvin’s. “I promise.”

Gyuvin’s heart swells as he happily nods. “Same goes for me. That is, if you do have any questions for me. But I’m sure all the things that happened to me have also happened to you, especially if you were alone for the journey.”

Taerae shakes his head. “I was only alone until I got to Megaton. An Institute scientist picked me up at the gates. The journey wasn’t easy, but it also wasn’t hard.”

Gyuvin nods. No wonder Taerae got so far so fast— he had someone with him, someone trained.

“Did you meet anyone?” Gyuvin asks.

“I didn’t have time to. Did you?”

Gyuvin warmly smiles, recalling the people who kept him alive. The friendly brotherhood knight, the exuberant radio host, the generous townspeople of Canterbury Commons, the happy-go-lucky trader, the Rivet City scientist, the Megaton family.

“Many.”

Taerae playfully pokes his nose. “When I’m done with my current mission, you’ll have to tell me all about it. Sounds like you had a much more eventful time than I did.”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, simply watching the bok choy from across the room. Gyuvin can hear the excited chatter of Desdemona from the common room, catching a half sentence about finding another rogue synth in Diamond City. He can hear Ricky, too, speaking to Deacon about different kinds of weapons. He finds his eyelids heavy with sleep, now accustomed to a healthier schedule.

“I do have a question for you,” Taerae says with a playful smile on his lips.

Gyuvin tilts his head.

“That young gentleman out there…Ricky.”

Gyuvin’s throat closes up as he anticipates the question.

“You love him?”

Gyuvin slowly nods. “More than anything.”

“And you trust him?”

“He left Megaton for me. He risked his life for me. I know it must be confusing to see us together but hyung— he’s the one, I swear he’s the one.”

Taerae smiles and pulls his brother in for a hug. “I’m proud of you, you know? You survived the wastes just to find me. And even found somebody to love. I don’t know if you’ll ever forgive me for my disappearance, but I can live happily knowing that you are just fine on your own,” he softly cries into Gyuvin’s neck. “It is an awful, awful place here. But you have found everything you need.”

Gyuvin hugs him tighter, fighting the tears that brim at his eyes.

“And he better be good to you, or I’ll deal with him myself.”

Gyuvin can’t help but laugh. “He’s a New Vegas native, hyung, I’m not sure you could deal with him yourself.”

Taerae pulls back and ruffles Gyuvin’s hair. “Then I’m just gonna have to take your word for it.” He takes a deep breath and pats his brother’s cheek. “I owe him everything, anyway. He kept my baby brother alive and well.”

Gyuvin feels his chest bloom with orchids, recounting everything Ricky has done for him. But he also recalls the moments Ricky assured him he could survive just fine on his own. Despite how he began, Gyuvin is confident that the wasteland can’t do anything more to tear him down.

There’s another few minutes of silence as Gyuvin thinks.

“Hyung, what happens now?”

Gyuvin knows he doesn’t belong in The Commonwealth. He enjoys The Railroad and the people but knows deep down he is meant for The Capital, always closer to his beginnings. Besides, Ricky has a family he must return to. And for once, Gyuvin knows he is part of that family.

“They want me to stay here,” Taerae says softly, his face falling. “But I don’t have to. I can stay with you if that’s what you want. I’d be the worst brother on the planet if I ever abandoned you again.”

Gyuvin slowly shakes his head. “You were called for an important job, hyung. We were always too different to be in the same place at all times. I won’t get in the way of that.”

“Ricky mentioned returning to The Capital. Are you going to do that?”

Gyuvin nods. “I think so.”

“Is my Gyuvinnie going to become a bartender?” Taerae wriggles his eyebrows. “I know you can’t hold your liquor.”

“Maybe a barback,” Gyuvin says under his breath. But realistically, he just wants to be near Ricky. He’s happy to be put to work doing anything as long as he gets to live in Megaton.

“Distance isn’t going to stop me from watching over you, you know. If Megaton has a terminal, we could keep in touch that way. Besides, I have to see Dr. Li in two months or so.”

Gyuvin smiles. “You promise?”

Taerae squeezes his cheeks. “I promise.”

The vault dweller grins and lays his head on Taerae’s shoulder. “Hyung?”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, kid.”

☢️

“Oh my god,” Gyuvin whispers under his breath.

Diamond City is nothing short of its name— The Great Green Jewel of the Commonwealth.

The massive stadium-turned-settlement is bustling with life, packed with citizens in every corner. Full of color, noise, and diversity. Gyuvin can’t help his excitement when he tugs his boyfriend down the steps and into the main plaza.

“Qubing, you can’t just run in like this. The mayor barely let us in,” Ricky grumbles, though he’s hiding a smile.

It’s true. The Diamond City mayor didn’t believe for one minute that they were friends of Hao— until Ricky whipped out the Valentine Detection Agency card Hao had handed him the first day he entered Rose Quartz. They were three seconds away from being shot at by a gaggle of armed forces when he’d thrown the card at the balding man. Reluctantly, they’d been allowed into the walls.

“We’re in now! It doesn’t matter!” Gyuvin excitedly says, pulling him along.

They stop at a small restaurant right in the middle of town, run by a little protectron with a nametag that reads,“ Takahashi .” The protectron gives them one look, his little chef hat bouncing up and down atop his metal head.

“Nani shimasu-ka?” It says in a friendly robotic voice, asking for their order. Gyuvin clasps his hands together in glee, looking over the menu of noodles.

“How cute!” He tugs Ricky’s jacket. “I just don’t understand how anyone could hate robots when they’re this cute! Don’t you agree?”

Ricky playfully rolls his eyes and nods. “I don’t think these are the kind of robots people hate, Gyuvin.” He stares at the Japanese robot with a silly grin. “But he is kinda cute.”

“Can we order noodles? I’m hungry!” Gyuvin pouts. “Plus, it’s our last day here. After we get home I’m never walking again.”

Ricky giggles and nods, looking over the menu.

A month in The Commonwealth had been enough time to figure out what they were to do next. With Taerae sneaking back and forth from The Institute to The Railroad, Gyuvin had concluded the best thing to do was return home once he and Ricky had ample rest.

Though the HQ is a nice place to be, Gyuvin had convinced Ricky to bring him to other parts of Boston before they were to make the trip back home. They hadn’t made it to Diamond City the first time around, so Gyuvin decided there was no better time than now.

“Nani shimasu-ka?” Takahashi repeats again as Gyuvin finds himself lost in his thoughts.

“Two orders of your Diamond City Special,” the bartender says with a wink. The friendly robot bows and begins preparing their order with lightning fast speed.

The two find a seat at the bar, sitting face to face.

“So,” Gyuvin starts, resting his chin on his fist. “Are you gonna to tell your brothers that you’re a taken man?”

A light blush settles on Ricky’s cheeks. “Enough.”

Gyuvin gently nudges him. “I’m serious! Do you think they’d approve of me? I mean— I know the throuple will, but what about your brother? He always seemed a bit closed off to me.”

“Yujinnie likes you, I promise he does.”

Gyuvin pouts. “You sure?”

“He’s a quiet kid, but he shows his acceptance and love in simple ways. He had no problem loving the raider and the ghoul. Plus, I’m sure he’d be delighted to make fun of me when we return.”

Gyuvin giggles, watching as Takahashi boils their noodles with precision. To his right, a little girl and her mother sit and watch the Japanese robot in a trance. He smiles at them and waves.

“Do you think they’ll be surprised? Considering how you acted towards me when we first met?”

Ricky shrugs. “I think they knew it was only a matter of time. My brothers know me better than I know myself.” He leans into Gyuvin’s space, whispering into his ear, “I was always going to fall in love with you, anyway.”

Gyuvin shies away with a giggle, pressing his palms against Ricky’s chest as the steam from the kiosk heats up his cheeks. “You told me there wasn’t a second you disliked me. How am I supposed to believe that?” He teases.

“When you first arrived, I really did think you were out to hurt us. I wouldn’t put it past Vault-Tec to send an innocent-looking handsome man out into the wastes to infiltrate my people.” He smiles to himself. “I had to keep my guard up for at least a few weeks. But god, was it hard.”

Gyuvin grabs his hand and squeezes it. “No wonder you gave in so easily. Watching me cry was all it took, huh?”

Ricky shakes his head. “I couldn’t keep it up. My brothers trusted you first— I should have taken their word for it.” He brings Gyuvin’s hand to his lips. “Watching you cry shattered my heart into a million pieces. I’ll never forgive myself for not being kinder to you sooner.”

“You’re a family man,” Gyuvin says, pecking Ricky on the cheek. “And I come from a very corrupt line of individuals. I forgive you.”

Takahashi briefly interrupts to set their steaming bowl of ramen in front of them. Gyuvin thanks him in Japanese and returns his attention to his boyfriend.

“You were beautiful to me from day one,” Gyuvin confesses, blowing on his soup. “I’d only seen men like you on the covers of my textbooks. I know you don’t like how tough you were, but it was honestly kind of hot.”

Ricky quickly covers his face with his hands in embarrassment. “Stop that.” “It’s true!” He breaks apart a pair of chopsticks and hands them to Ricky. “You were so driven, so loyal. You barely knew me but you fiercely fought for me. I could write a terminal entry on all the things that made me fall in love with you,” he rambles on, sipping his broth. “It killed me to sleep next to you and not know if you felt the same way.”

Ricky begins to eat his soup, his cheeks still flushed pink. “I do a very good job at pretending I’m cool,” he jokes.

“I know that,” Gyuvin giggles. “You flirt with me and then get all bashful when I give you the same energy back.”

The bartender closes his eyes in embarrassment and sighs.

“But truly,” Ricky starts, “I fell in love with you the moment I saw that all you wanted to do was good. And after you almost died the second time, I was sure you would give up and go home. But you didn’t.” He swallows a mouthful of noodles.

“You don’t remember the exact moment you fell in love?” Gyuvin teases.

“When you wanted to fight the behemoth at the GNR building,” he laughs in disbelief. “I thought for sure you’d had enough at that point. But you still dragged me, a veteran wastelander, into the beast’s belly.”

“So you wanted me because I’m crazy?”

“I wanted you because you were willing to risk your life a third time to save everybody but yourself.”

Gyuvin goes quiet, slowly chewing on his noodles. Never in a million years had he ever thought about himself before others. Jumping into battle as a rookie seemed the most natural thing to do at the time, disregarding the scars that tainted his skin. Nobody had ever really pointed out this trait before.

“I knew then and there that you probably didn’t even need my help. And that if you would let me, I could love you. The bravest man I’d ever met.”

Gyuvin feels his chest tighten at the sentence. He remembers Ricky’s words all clear and saccharine in his head.

"You're much braver than you give yourself credit for."

“You’re such a sap.”

“It’s true,” Ricky insists, slurping his noodles. “I’ll have Doc Church officiate our marriage.”

Gyuvin slaps Ricky’s shoulder. “We can’t be getting married in our early twenties! Is gay marriage even legal in the wasteland?!”

Ricky snorts. “Baby, everything is legal in the wasteland.”

Defeated, Gyuvin returns to his steaming bowl of ramen. Right, that was a dumb question.

They eat in quietude for a few minutes, enjoying the loud chatter of Diamond City residents milling about the stadium. Gyuvin notes just how lively it is compared to all the other settlements they’ve been in. There’s a large school building, rows of dwellings, a library, a variety of shops, and even a station for the Diamond City radio host. He can imagine how comfortable it was for Hao to grow up so lavishly, especially being the mayor’s nephew.

Ricky tells him that the privileged residents live in the highest levels of the stadium, isolated from the ones below. Gyuvin has no doubt this is where Hao spent his adolescence. Despite his privilege, however, the Diamond City boy doesn’t flaunt his wealth.

“Where are you gonna put me when we get back home?” Gyuvin asks, feeling himself start to get full.

Ricky gives him a huge smile. “I like it when you call it home.”

“Wherever you go, I go. I thought you’d know this by now.”

“It’s cute.”

Gyuvin rolls his eyes. “Am I gonna be your barback or what?”

Ricky laughs. “You don’t know the first thing about alcohol.”

“I can learn!”

Ricky finishes off his bowl. “I was thinking you were maybe fit for Doc Church’s clinic. Before we left, you were very good at being his right hand man.”

Gyuvin blushes, looking away. “I didn’t know you saw that.”

“Of course I did. I had to observe you, you know.”

Gyuvin wrinkles his nose. “Freak.”

“You’re not a test subject up here, Qubing. I personally think you’d make a wonderful nurse.”

Gyuvin wipes his mouth. “Do you think so?”

“A friendly vault dweller with a heart of gold? I know so.”

Gyuvin playfully hits him again. Ricky only laughs, wiping away a stray piece of food on Gyuvin’s lip. He follows it with a kiss.

“But don’t stress about it. I told you I would give you a place in this world. First and foremost, however, you are my boyfriend. And that is what’s important.”

Gyuvin grins and gives him a long kiss. Takahashi watches and places two pieces of wrapped chocolate in front of them with a quick bow. The two men thank the friendly robot and leave the ramen stand.

“Do you think we can visit the Museum of Freedom before tomorrow?” Gyuvin asks hopefully, his eyes reflecting the colorful bustle of the city.

Ricky affectionately sighs and ruffles his hair.

“Whatever you want, Qubing.”

☢️

“I can’t believe you traitors went to my city without me!” Hao’s voice rings out when he bursts into Rose Quartz with Jiwoong and Hanbin on either arm. The two men look at Gyuvin apologetically.

On any other day, the sudden energy would stress Gyuvin out. But after traveling back another 400 miles, he’s just happy to be back in Megaton alive.

It had been easier this time around, with The Railroad sending a willing chaperone across the in-between with them. A friendly robot named “ P.A.M ” had taken them all the way to The Capital and dropped them off at Rivet City. There, Ricky had said his final goodbyes to Dr. Li and established contact to begin the process of reaching out to his family in The New California Republic. She offered them a permanent room in the settlement the next time they decided to stay or travel. Grateful, the two politely declined.

It had been beautiful to watch Ricky’s brothers reunite with him the late night they returned home. Yujin had tackled him to the floor and the throuple had cried far into the morning. Moira, overjoyed to see them, had pulled Gyuvin in for a bone-crushing hug and rambled on and on about how she would put him to work as soon as possible. Their relationship also didn’t come as a surprise, considering the way Yujin yelled, “I told you so!” at his bashful brother.

Doc was relieved to see Gyuvin alive and not dying in his clinic, putting a hand on his shoulder and patting his cheek. Lucas Simms was also relieved to see them alive, proud that Ricky had done such a wonderful job. He too, had offered the vault dweller a humble abode on the lower level of Megaton. But Gyuvin admitted he’d be more comfortable staying with Ricky at his bar.

“Listen, it was our original plan to go there first! We found his brother before we could get to Diamond City!” Ricky says, trying to appease a pouting Hao. “We only stayed for a night! And your mayor uncle was ready to shoot me when I said I knew you!”

Hao crosses his arms over his chest and huffs. “Did you at least get ramen from Takahashi's?"

Gyuvin smiles and nods. “We’ll bring you next time so you can show us around.”

“Just be glad they’re okay, Hao,” Jiwoong says, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “And that our vault dweller’s brother is just fine.”

“Oh right! Will we ever get to meet him?” Hanbin questions.

“He needs to visit Rivet City in two months or so. He’ll come down here right after and stay for a little bit. You’ll get to meet him soon, I swear,” Gyuvin says, remembering his brother’s promise to visit him as often as he can. As long as he keeps the terminal in Ricky’s room updated, he can easily keep in contact.

“If he’s anything like you, I’m sure we’ll love him,” Jiwoong assures as Hanbin leans on his shoulder. “Especially since he seems to be a hero in The Commonwealth.”

“How long until my boss brings him up?” Hao giggles.

“Speaking of that, when is your next investigation? Or are you still investigating my ghoulish physiology?” Jiwoong pokes him.

Hao turns bright red, gently hitting his partner. “Stop that! He’ll have work for me soon enough!”

The ghoul giggles along with Hanbin as they watch their boyfriend turn all kinds of pink.

“You better tell us everything that happened to you two. Hanbin said you almost died? Again?” Yujin narrows his eyes.

Ricky sighs and gently whacks his brother. “Give me a break, it’s not like you haven’t almost died too.”

“Remember when we were halfway across the midwest and you—”

Ricky clamps a hand over Yujin’s mouth with a glare. “Not in front of my boyfriend.”

Yujin yanks away his brother’s hand and rolls his eyes. “Long story short, I’m not surprised.” He slowly breaks into a grin. “But I’m so glad you’re okay.”

Ricky pulls Yujin in for a warm hug as the rest giggle.

“By the way Gyuvin, are you planning on working here? Or with Moira?” Hanbin asks.

He says it so certainly, like he always expected Gyuvin to come back and join them indefinitely. No matter where he is in Megaton, someone will be happy to put him to use.

“Doc wants him,” Ricky leans over and smiles. “Thinking of maybe putting him in the pediatric ward, since the kids love him to death.”

“I think that’s perfect for you, Gyuvin,” Jiwoong grins. “But you’re always welcome here if you feel like learning how to mix drinks. I’m free to teach you.”

Gyuvin nods with a smile. “I have to become as equally talented as Ricky if I wanna be next to him.”

“Nonsense,” Ricky jumps in. “Did you guys know he dragged me into battle with a behemoth super mutant? With next to no physical training he was ready to get us killed.”

“No way,” Yujin says, his eyes lighting up.

“Well, now you have to tell us this story,” Hao says, plopping himself down on Hanbin’s lap. “Is this when you almost died? Or did Gyuvinnie save you?”

“This was way before I almost died,” Ricky starts, gearing up to tell the story with Gyuvin at his side.

The vault dweller feels his heart swell again, full of love and appreciation for the people he has found. Though Taerae isn’t there to see his new family yet, he’s confident that they will accept him as soon as he walks through Megaton’s gate.

He watches as Ricky speaks animatedly to the group of men, not missing a beat when Moira suddenly barrels through the front door mid story. She gives Gyuvin a tight hug before inserting herself directly between Jiwoong and Yujin, eager to listen in.

He doesn’t think of the vault much— nor does he consider ever forgiving his mother. Every so often, he dreams of the hallways he grew up in and finds comfort in knowing he’s only a day’s walk from the wooden entrance he escaped from. He makes a promise to himself that he’ll have hope for his friends and the others he knew from his childhood, praying that they one day see the light.

For now, he is grateful for what he has found. Kind people in an abysmal place, lovely hearts in a world destined for failure.

He takes one look at his boyfriend, reminiscing on the stoic front he’d exhibited when they first met. He looks nothing like that now, all smiley and bright-eyed.

He looks like a man he’ll love forever.

☢️

ROBCO INDUSTRIES UNIFIED OPERATING SYSTEM

COPY RIGHT 2075-2077 ROBCO INDUSTRIES

SEVER 14 -

Vault 134 - Message

December 20th, 2278

Gyuvin, I’m so glad to hear that the bar is doing well. It also doesn’t surprise me that you’re training to be a nurse! You were always destined for more than what you were given.

The Overseer is getting worse. When you left, your mother locked everything down for months. But I have hope that people are starting to see the light.

We held a vigil for Marcel’s brother on Friday. He’s doing alright, but it’s going to take him a while to adjust to what you’ve told us. He’s grateful that at least you are alive and well.

You’ll have to introduce us to this mystery “Ricky” man when you break us out of here.

Don’t worry a bit, we’re not going to die on you.

Love you more than anything,

Keita

Gyuvin grins ear to ear as he reads the message, happy that Keita responded quicker this particular week. Normally, it takes around a month for the man to dodge security and respond accordingly. More people must be turning on his mother, he thinks.

He’s halfway through typing his response when Hao calls him from the bottom of the stairs.

“Gyuvinnie? The trader is here!”

Jumping up from his seat, Gyuvin flies down the stairs and nearly runs into his boyfriend carrying a box of Nuka-Colas.

“Christ, Gyuvin. Be careful in my bar!” Ricky grumbles, maneuvering around his puppy-like boyfriend.

“I’m sorry! Matthew is here!” The vault dweller steadies his boyfriend and darts into the main lobby, eyes lighting up as soon as he finds the friendly trader that saved Ricky’s life.

“Gyuvin!” Matthew says, holding his arms out wide so Gyuvin can crash into them. He holds him impossibly tight, laughing as Gyuvin clings onto him.

“We missed you last week,” Gyuvin pouts, “We thought something happened to you.”

Matthew shakes his head. “I was setting up defenses in Canterbury, silly. You’re the ones who financed it!”

Gyuvin grumbles, pulling away. “I didn’t think they’d take that long. Just a few turrets, right?”

Matthew nods. “Turrets and some fences. Oh and—” he pulls something out of his bag, “Joe Porter wanted me to give you this as thanks.” He hands Gyuvin a piece of paper.

“What is this?”

Matthew laughs. “It’s a deed. He’s giving you his estate if things go awry.”

Gyuvin gasps, dropping the piece of paper. “That’s crazy! I can’t just take that! They’re the ones that saved us!”

“And you’re the ones protecting them now, Gyuvinnie. I’d say accept the gift.”

Honored, Gyuvin slowly folds the deed and puts it in his pocket, vowing to show it to Ricky later. He should have known about Matthew being gone last week, considering Three Dog had mentioned Canterbury upgrading their living grounds.

“The regular, Matthew?” Jiwoong asks, filing into the bar next to his partners. The friendly trader nods his head and hops up onto a stool.

“Is Gunwook going to be assigned The Citadel?” Yujin suddenly asks, swiveling around in his chair. “I think he deserves to be promoted.”

Ricky saunters back into his bar with another case of sodas. “He said he hopes he’s assigned there. The Brotherhood is currently in talks with the sheriff. Maybe he’ll be our very own Megaton knight before he gets to The Citadel.”

Yujin clasps his hands together. “Thank god, I need to hang out with other people besides you guys.”

Ricky rolls his eyes. “You gonna become a knight, Yujinnie?”

“Hell no! A New Vegas native would never do something like that!”

Gyuvin laughs. “What does that say about Gunwook, huh? You think he’s evil?”

“That’s not what I meant!” He fixes his collar. “I am simply not fit for something like The Brotherhood!”

“I think you’d make a very brave knight,” Hao says as he cuts a tato in half. “Maybe you can ask your friend if they have any openings.”

Yujin sighs, shaking his head. “I just want him to teach me how to use power armor.”

Gyuvin laughs. “I’m sure Gunwook can do just that.”

Jiwoong slides Matthew his atomic cocktail. “Have you found any rogue synths on his side of the wasteland?” He asks, questioning no one in particular.

A few months back, Matthew had been surprised to learn that he’d run face-to-face with a handful of rogue synths during his time trading. When Ricky had informed him of their names, he made sure to keep track in case he ever saw them again. He’d send them on their way to The Railroad, expanding their help all the way to The Capital. He was happy to be given such an honorable job.

“I haven’t found one since last year,” Matthew shakes his head. “Are they still coming this far down?”

Ricky nods. “The Institute can’t always get them this far out. But I suspect some of the scientists in Rivet City are under their watch. Can’t be too careful even in The Capital.”

“How is Woongki?” Yujin pipes up again, eager to know.

KI-19 had chosen his name after watching a pre-war drama starring none other than Jiwoong himself. Before leaving The Commonwealth last year, they’d spent an entire night binging them— the poor synth became addicted. The character was bubbly and happy-go-lucky, a perfect fit to KI-19’s lovely personality.

“He’s an entertainer now,” Gyuvin smiles. “Says he wants to go to Vegas one day.”

“A dancer?”

Gyuvin nods. “Diamond City loves him.”

Yujin puts a hand over his heart and grins. “That’s nice to know.”

“And they don’t suspect that he’s a synth under all that?” Hanbin asks.

“Not at all. Too loving to be a ‘synth,’ as they say.” Gyuvin rolls his eyes. “Bunch of bigots.”

“And your brother?” Hanbin continues.

“Running an errand right now. There’s a possible laboratory somewhere in the midwest. He said they’ll be gone for a month or two before they get to come back.”

“I just hope they find something out there,” Ricky says, wiping down the bar. “God knows there’s nothing but dust.”

“Sounds like things are alright with you all,” Matthew says, taking a big gulp of his drink. “Maybe when I retire I’ll settle down here.”

“You should take us to Big Town!” Yujin says.

“Boo, you’re much smarter than the kids there,” Matthew says. “In fact, you probably would have been mayor of Little Lamplight if you grew up there instead of Vegas.”

Yujin crosses his arms with a confident smile on his face. “I know that’s right.”

The gaggle of men laugh and continue on with conversation while Gyuvin hops over the counter to be with his bartender. He slides his hands around his waist and rests his head in the crook of his neck.

“I have a proposition.”

“And what would that be?” Ricky responds, cleaning a glass.

“What if we hypothetically-theoretically-perhaps-maybe considered going on another trip?”

Ricky cranes his neck to face his boyfriend. “You mean like…another adventure?”

“Precisely.”

Shaking his head with a smile, Ricky puts his hands over Gyuvin’s. “You’re crazy.”

“You told me yourself that you didn’t wanna be locked up here your whole life.”

“And where would we even go, hm?”

Gyuvin giggles maniacally. “San Francisco. To find your family.”

Ricky leans forward and kisses Gyuvin. “You’d do that for me?”

“I’d do anything for you.”

Another kiss. “I love you, vaultie.”

“I love you too.”

Gyuvin closes his eyes and rests against Ricky’s back, not taking for granted the way his chest rises and falls. He slips his hand under the bottom of his shirt, just enough to feel his beating heart and the warmth of his skin. He yearns to crawl under the covers with him and sleep until dusk but he fights away the feeling in favor of being productive.

“Vaultie?”

“Hm?”

“I’ve been thinking about when you asked if we’d find each other in another lifetime.”

“Yeah?”

“And how depressing that conversation was,” he laughs. “I just don’t think it matters now.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I get to love you in this one.”

He pulls Gyuvin’s arms tighter around his body, squeezing him softly. “But even then, I’d still find you in the others.”

The vault dweller laughs and kisses the back of his neck, ignoring how the others boo their affection.

“I guess we’ll just have to see.”

Chapter Text

Terminal Entries

YUJIN

He’d grown up with the stench of alcohol.

The smell of blood, the smell of drugs, the smell of the dirtied streets and what was once a flourishing city of life.

New Vegas— the gem of The Mojave, chalk full of crime and oppressive rule. Full of gangs and factions, all out to get each other and run the streets of Freeside. Any farther into The Mojave would bring you into Caesar's Legion territory or up against the NCR troopers. If you were born there, you wouldn’t dare venture outside The Strip without a stack of ammo and a revolver.

He’d been orphaned at a young age, left on the streets to die. And his parents had believed it too, confident that their 10-year old son would surely succumb to the violence. He’d simply spend one night on the corner of The Strip and be robbed of everything he owned.

Had Yujin been vulnerable like that, then maybe that’s what would have happened.

It took him two weeks to learn how to pick-pocket, how to carefully stalk the elites when they slipped into the Lucky 38 casino at midnight. He saw how careless they were with their caps, how easily they drained their pockets each time they stepped into an establishment.

Nobody questioned the orphan on the streets, accustomed to seeing them mill about during the day. He preyed on their blindness, their inability to see just how clever he really was.

It started with small things. Snatching snacks from the bars, picking caps out of old woman’s purses, yanking poker chips from their tables. When he grew a few inches taller and bolder, he’d steal a watch here and there— or purposefully turn powerful men against each other with little white lies and framed objects.

And he was good at it too, never leaving a trail behind or a single clue as to who was wreaking havoc in the casinos. The Strip would be damned if Mr. House ever discovered who was fucking up all of his trades. Surely it wasn’t a 13-year old boy with a brain larger than every adult there.

He was lovable, too. The errand boy that would run trades for the weapon shops around the corner. The grandson sweet enough to make sure the older patrons would get to their rooms safely. The older brother that shared his food with the younger orphans who weren’t as strong as him.

In order to do that amount of bad, he did just the right amount of good.

He knew of Ricky Shen years before he tried to rob him of his knapsack.

The faithful son of the Gomorrah casino, born into one of the most respectable factions in the entire wasteland. The untouchable Shi’s— a family with tight ties to important individuals in the New California Republic.

He knew it was a bad idea, trying to steal from such a difficult target. And he’d almost gotten away with it, too, had Ricky not felt his nimble little hands slip into the far pocket of his backpack, fishing out the small tin can of caps.

In fact, it was the first time Yujin had ever failed a robbery. Only three years his senior, but a worthy opponent.

Yujin, though lonely, was never scared. He had lived through the worst of an orphan’s life, accepting that his family didn’t want to raise him as their own. Fear was an emotion he did not allow himself to feel in order to remain protected. In that moment, however, he had never been more frightened.

But Ricky hadn’t done anything to hurt him, or even to scold him. Instead, he had smiled brightly at him and complimented his meticulous ways of swindling The Strip. He’d known and seen everything Yujin had done amongst the casinos, figuring out that he was the one causing ruckus. Yujin isn’t quite sure how he’d figured this out so quickly.

“I think we’d make a good team, no?” The 16-year old had argued.

“You have a family.”

Ricky had sadly smiled, looking back at the flashing lights of the Gomorrah. “Not anymore.”

Ricky Shen was a good teacher, a good older figure to have in his life. Yujin had considered the men at The Kings faction as his top role models, but they were nothing like Ricky— nor were they as kind and thoughtful.

His stomach was never empty, his clothes never dirty. As long as he was with Ricky, he was taken care of.

In his short childhood, Yujin had never considered what it meant to be loved. He was nearly discarded the very day he could walk on his own, left to his own devices. He hadn’t thought about the possibility of someone finding faith in him, or seeing him for his gentle heart and incredible skill.

So when Ricky had offered to take him away from Vegas, he’d immediately agreed.

From that point on, he knew he could call him his brother.

GUNWOOK

He knew he was a dead son the moment he was dropped back onto the steps of Rivet City, all shameful and humiliated.

A Rivet City boy, surrounded by a loving family, still running out into the wasteland to seek trouble he couldn’t find at home.

Bright-eyed, terribly friendly, with absolutely no clue of how the wasteland really worked outside those sheltered metal walls. A strong desire for adventure, the overwhelming urge to disobey his poor mother at any given moment.

The 15-year old only wanted to seek out the Jefferson Memorial. Just a quick run, exploring the very outside of the building and coming right back home before anybody could find him. He’d done it before, going as far as observing the mirelurks in their natural habitat. Never once had he been caught.

So when he found himself face-to-face with a grotesque centaur , he had no idea what to do.

The acid it launched was painful, singing past his thin layer of clothing and burning into his skin. Though slow-moving in nature, Gunwook knew he didn’t have the right training nor weapons to fend off this horrid creature. So he’d run— hardly able to dodge the long-range balls of acid that splattered onto his back.

He’d found a large rock to lean against, holding his scalding skin with tears brimming his eyes. He’d have to apologize to his parents from above, telling them over and over again that he should have just listened to their warnings. Despite only being a mile away from the aircraft, he knew he couldn’t get past the centaur without killing it.

“Halt,” a deep mechanical voice had said from behind the rock.

Without giving the kid any time to process, a large flash of light had taken out the centaur in one go, frying it into little pieces of mush. Horrified, Gunwook had scrambled to his feet and attempted to get away. But before he could, a large metal hand stopped him in his wake.

“Where are your parents, kid?” The man in armor said, tightly gripping Gunwook’s wrist.

In awe, Gunwook trailed his eyes up and down The Brotherhood Knight in full power armor, standing with two other members. Strong and tall, broad and intimidating— everything Gunwook imagined himself to be as an adult.

“Answer me, kid.”

“Cool,” was all Gunwook could say.

His mother had grounded him for a week straight after the incident, going on and on about how she should have never let him watch all those pre-war adventure movies. But he’d been too starstruck to care, remembering the very moment The Brotherhood knight had whisked him away to safety.

It was his calling— he was sure of it.

A hero in the wasteland, protecting citizens from any kind of evil and doing as much good as he possibly could. Being strong and kind, driven and loyal. He was ready to train his whole life for it.

Though his parents weren’t super supportive, they were at least happy he had a real career goal in mind.

And when age 18 came around, he was overjoyed to be selected into the ranks.

MATTHEW

It was no surprise that Matthew was voted in as mayor at age 14.

A Little Lamplight native, swept away by the older kids into the underground hole when he was only 7 years old. A talkative, naive, and friendly boy that never once did anything for himself before others.

They’d ousted out MacCready — the mean, selfish 12-year old that ran the adolescent settlement like he was in the armed forces. It took three different instances of bullying before Matthew had bravely stood up against him, pushing him off his mighty swingset and declaring they hold a fair election for a real mayor.

He didn’t expect to win, though everybody else in Little Lamplight was sure he would.

An almost (minus MacCready) unanimous vote by the 80 kid-citizens had put Matthew in charge of the entire settlement, leaving him to make the big-kid choices. Who they let in, who they kicked out, and how they managed their trades as well as businesses.

He was a natural at it, always knowing what to say and when to say it. Even with MacCready breathing down his neck, he never faltered for one second when trouble presented itself. Always calm and collected, easygoing and kind. The others had argued it must have been in his blood.

He was strict on mandatory education in the caves, even extending schooling all the way up until high school. Originally, Little Lamplight citizens were to be kicked out at age 16, but Matthew changed it to 18 in order to better prepare his kids to face the real world.

He established factions for trading, for medical training, teaching, and even entertainment. Sometimes, the occasional adult was allowed into the settlement as long as they could win Matthew’s trust over. With his lead, the children had things to do and lives to prepare for.

Turning 18 was no easy feat.

Giving up mayorship was the hardest thing he’d ever done, considering how much his brothers and sisters had supported him throughout his governing. Though he could confidently pass mayorship down to his secretary, he struggled with letting go of the only home he’d ever known. He could visit, but he’d never truly be allowed back as a resident.

Big Town had nothing he was looking for. Most individuals there were earlier citizens of Little Lamplight, under much different leadership and rule. The majority of them hadn’t left Big Town more than a handful of times, struggling with maintaining agriculture and a strong trading business. Immediately, Matthew knew he didn’t want to end up like them.

He’d taught himself how to use a gun before moving to the next town. Then he taught himself how to barter, how to do things in order to win adults’ trust. The easiest method was to simply be willing to go on adventures. Be kind and be helpful— but always weary.

He knew it was most important to understand science and medicine. Though he had established a hospital in Little Lamplight, he was not ever present at the building, too focused on running his town.

So he convinced every medic to train him in exchange for tasks they needed done. It was easy, being outgoing and willing to help was his middle name. He learned how to administer emergency first aid, how to collect valuable items for trade, and even how to farm an entire plot of crops. For a man on the road, he needed to be a jack of all trades.

The Crimson Caravan had heard of him through the grapevine.

An impressive and talented trader hailing from one of the most unique settlements in the entire wasteland, finding ways to keep himself alive.

He’d been recruited almost instantaneously, given a high-paying job and a trading route to follow. He left Big Town for good, vowing to come back every so often and help the settlement get back on their feet with better resources.

A rare, happy-go-lucky wastelander, thrilled to help those in need.

JIWOONG

He was the prettiest under the spotlight.

A charming, dashing actor with looks so mesmerizing he could make anybody fall in love with one glance.

A humble one at that, too. Soft-spoken in his interviews, quiet at celebrity parties, but goofy when he was comfortable. A heart-throb romance actor, self-built and self-sufficient, no stranger to hardship. Someone who found it easy to win anybody over, to magnetize them with his beauty and his kind heart.

He’d only found success at 23 years of age. After fighting his way through the industry for years and years, he’d finally met his goal of being on screen. He started as an idol when he was 17, giving up when he turned 21 and transitioning to an actor at 22.

His breakout role did wonders for his image, too.

A green flag gentleman working at a library, enchanting the main lead with his nerdy rambles of history and books about love. The audience had fallen in love with him right alongside the main lead, not missing this hidden gem. He’d been an overnight hit the moment the first episode had aired, bringing him to his long deserved success.

For two years, he dominated the faces of streaming platforms and magazines, becoming the new and upcoming star of South Korea. No matter where one looked, you could find Kim Jiwoong plastered across the billboards or the windows of massive malls. Nobody could rival his talent and allure, making it easy for him to book whatever role he desired.

Los Angeles was a milestone of his.

He was to be in the third season of a massively popular detective show, playing the foreign sidekick. A breakout role in the states, an expansion to his already successful career.

He’d been nervous about the growing tension and political state of the world, but nobody really believed the bombs would drop. Everybody simply had too much to live for, even the ones who wanted to fight. He even ignored the offers Vault Tec made for him— “Pay your way into safety! Purchase an underground vault to ensure you and your family’s wellbeing!” Instead he flew to Los Angeles with glee, promising his friends and family he’d be back as soon as the show was filmed.

Saturday, October 23, 2077.

It was mid scene— beautiful, in a way.

A great flash of light that lasted just a few seconds before Jiwoong could feel his entire body go numb, the screams barely rendering in his ears. He’d be dead in seconds, he was absolutely sure of it, dying the very moment the world finally began to know his name.

But he didn’t die like he thought he would.

The scars and the radiation burns didn’t matter if he no longer had a screen to be on. In fact, he was entirely sure that all of his film crew perished in the blast, leaving him to wander the barren wastes of Los Angeles by his lonesome. A desolate, heart-wrenchingly lonely place full of injured people and dead bodies.

For months, he didn’t understand why he couldn’t die.

There were others like him, too, that wandered the streets just as blindly. Aimless zombies that couldn’t kill themselves no matter how hard they tried. Their skin and bones grotesque and difficult to look at.

Though alive, Jiwoong knew he’d never be beautiful again.

Year 2145.

With no family to his name, Jiwoong found himself amongst the Vault 15 residents, helping to establish the settlement of Shady Sands. They didn’t seem to mind his presence at first, thankful for any kind of help they could get.

He lived alone for the first couple of years, doing his best to integrate back into a rebuilding society. No family, no friends, no desire to even make connections. Being alone after so much attention had done irreparable damage to his soul, considering how much he hated looking at himself in the mirror.

They put up with him until the ghoulfication began.

It was new and strange, nobody had ever seen something like it before. His torn skin began to harden, his fingers became gray and sinewy, his voice dipped into something monstrous. Feral ghouls were already becoming the number one threat to the settlement— the people of Shady Sands were not going to take their chances.

For a second time, Jiwoong found himself displaced.

2274.

Jiwoong had gotten very good at stumbling into settlements and begging his way through, pleading for the patrons to look past his ghoulish ways. He wasn’t feral, and he wasn’t going to hurt anybody.

The New California Republic had driven him away with their close-minded opinions and human-only settlement rules. It had taken him all the way to The Capital wasteland where he could try his luck then.

Megaton was one of the last cities he would try before giving up entirely. He’d promise honest work in return for some kind of community, anywhere to prove himself. Just a soul to talk to, somebody that would just listen to him. If denied for a final time, he’d find somewhere comfortable and closed off to live until he perished.

Like the other settlements, Megaton was not kind to him.

The residents soured at his presence, pointing at him and reporting him to the town sheriff, hoping to get him kicked out as soon as possible. But he was able to make it into Moriarty's Saloon before that happened, the main bar in the middle of town.

Colin Moriarty, the owner, was nothing but cruel to him. He offered to take him in only as a slave, reminding him that he was a second-class citizen meant to work for his right to live. Jiwoong had no heart to tell him that once upon a time, he was loved and respected.

He would have left the town entirely if the young man from the back hadn’t rushed out and flagged him down, begging him to stay for just one moment. It had been so long since someone asked Jiwoong anything at all.

“Wait! We could really use your help!” The kid said, panting slightly. “Colin is an asshole, but he needs someone on the weekends and my brother and I aren’t enough to suffice. I can convince him to let you work here.”

Jiwoong had stared at him in confusion, wondering why the boy hadn’t questioned him about his ghoulishness yet.

“I’m a ghoul, kid.”

“Who cares? You’re human.”

Colin had a soft spot for the kid— Ricky Shen. With one conversation, Jiwoong suddenly had a place to stay and a part-time job. The New Vegas boy never singled him out, never made him feel like he was anything else but who he had always been. After years, Jiwoong finally found himself a place he could call home.

The curious man from Diamond City came only months after getting settled in Megaton.

Zhang Hao, the strange man hailing from The Commonwealth, a place that not even Jiwoong had been to before. A clean-pressed, neat, and law-abiding citizen from the most privileged settlement on the east coast. Beautiful and peculiar, always looking for a lead to chase.

Jiwoong believed for sure he’d be ridiculed by the man— told he was ugly, worthless, hideous and undeserving of love. But Hao was much different than anybody he’d ever met before, only finding fascination in his wrinkled skin instead of disgust.

“Incredible, I’ve never seen a non-feral ghoul up close before,” Hao said, sitting at the bar and leaning so far over he was nearly touching Jiwoong’s taut skin. “Does it ever hurt?”

“No sir, it doesn’t.”

“Why so formal! Just call me Hao.” His eyes trailed down Jiwoong’s body with delight. “Can I touch you? Would that be okay? I just want to know what it feels like.”

Jiwoong had nodded, swallowing down the nervousness and allowing the curious detective to put his hand on his rough chest. Hao’s fingers were delicate on his skin, careful to not put too much pressure on the torn bits of his body.

“You’re fascinating, Jiwoong. I could write a whole paper on you— only if you’d let me, of course.”

A whole paper about him?! Against every screaming voice in his head, Jiwoong’s heart had grown warm.

“I’m not that interesting.”

“I think it’s beautiful that a human can survive this long…and still look so marvelous.”

It had been years since anybody besides Ricky had referred to him as human. He had smiled, allowing Hao to touch wherever he desired and write whatever words he felt. As long as he continued to say kind things, Jiwoong would let Hao do anything he wanted to him.

Jiwoong had melted the first time Hao kissed him.

“For my writing!” He’d argued before pinning the bartender against the back wall and crashing their lips together. He was warm and tasted vaguely like a Nuka Quantum. “J-just for my investigative journalism on ghoulification!" and he was kissing him over and over again.

Hao made him feel like he deserved love. Like he was back on stage or under the city lights, being cheered on by fans alike. He made him feel beautiful again, like his skin wasn’t peeling at night. He’d visit the bar just for him, leaving his privileged life behind in favor of spending as much time with the ghoul as possible. Not a single moment passed where Jiwoong felt anything but cherished.

A year later, the second curious man appeared two months after Colin Moriarty disappeared following a trade deal, leaving the bar entirely in Ricky’s name.

More dramatic this time around— holding a gun with shaky fingers and quietly demanding everyone in the bar get down so he could hop the counter and rob the cash register.

That is until he was collapsing onto his knees, bursting into a fit of pathetic tears while the gun clattered to the ground. He was dragged out in seconds and thrown into the city jail where he spent two weeks rotting with tears staining his cheeks.

Ricky didn’t have to convince anyone but the sheriff to let him go— Colin was no longer an issue. After seeing how the raider was treated in the jailhouse, he demanded fair treatment and argued he hadn’t used the gun to kill anyone. Reluctantly, Lucas Simms gave one chance to the shaken-up raider, vowing to kick him out if he tried anything stupid.

Hanbin was his name.

A raider that had been kidnapped from his parents and raised in a homicidal environment. Despite this, however, he was prone to anything but violence. He was Hao’s second wonder, another research paper in the works.

Jiwoong would have been jealous if Hanbin wasn’t so easily loveable.

“Jiwoong, I think you and I have a lot in common, don’t we? Everybody hates us both.”

“At least you’re human and pretty.”

“Well I think you’re pretty, too.”

Jiwoong didn’t mind being put side by side with Hanbin when Hao made his scientific observations. He didn’t mind when they found themselves chatting on the same bed, sharing anecdotes of their past lives. He even didn’t mind when Hao insisted on kissing both of them goodbye.

“Jiwoong?” Hanbin had said under his breath one day.

“Hanbin?”

“Do you think you could love me like you love Hao?”

Jiwoong wasn’t necessarily expecting a question so loaded, considering how Hanbin had never brought it up before. But at the same time, it wasn’t hard to answer.

He’d leaned over and kissed him, feeling the tears brim at his eyes and the love overwhelm his heart.

And just like that, his puzzle piece was completed after 200 years.

HANBIN

His parents loved him dearly.

Born into a comfortable settlement in the wasteland to two individuals that would have done anything and everything to keep him healthy and happy.

As a baby, he got everything he wanted. Spoiled with love and affection, even from the neighbors and younger children in the hotel he lived in. Tenpenny Tower was full of powerful people, and he couldn’t have known his parents were amongst those individuals.

He doesn’t remember the exact details of how it happened, but he remembers the screams of terror the most. The pained wails of his mother and string of profanities from his father when the group of armed men ambushed their brahmin during a trip one evening, taking away everything he’d ever known and loved.

A 10-year old orphan with nowhere to go but with the strange men that decided to take pity on his tear-stricken self. They could mold him into whatever they wanted, turning him into a trained killer for their own benefit.

He hated being a raider.

Even if he was conditioned to start killing at such a young age, Hanbin never got over the sick feeling of aiding these men in their evil escapades. He tried to swallow the guilt, tried to desensitize himself from the violence carried out on a daily basis. But each and every time he was left sobbing on his own, hiding away from the chief in fear of being called weak once more.

But he adapted, knowing it was the only thing he could do if he wanted to survive. He was grateful to at least learn the ways of the wastes, having been sheltered for all of his adolescence. He was deadly with a knife and a phenomenal sniper, which may have been the only reason his raider gang kept him around.

He avoided hurting individuals when he could, secretly letting them get away when the chief wasn’t looking. He saved as many as he possibly could, knowing that one day he wouldn’t be able to hide just how many people he’d spared the life of.

He was given his first real assignment at age 23.

He was sure the others had snitched, complaining to the chief that Hanbin was nothing but a coward. He always hesitated when he shot and attempted to talk before he threatened. He would slow the others down and put their missions in jeopardy, all because of his inability to be heartless.

He’d have to successfully rob a bar and return with caps and a single body part if he wanted to stay with the gang.

The chief had put a knife to his neck and told him he was worthless if he didn’t do exactly what he was told, threatening to take away his home if Hanbin couldn’t carry out the simple task of violence.

In agony, Hanbin had forced himself to go through with the mission, choosing Megaton as his target.

He’d heard of the settlement when he was younger in conversations with his parents, but he’d never entered the gates before. As a raider, he wasn’t allowed past any settlement gates.

So when he stood in the middle of the Rose Quartz bar with a gun in his hand, he realized very quickly that he could never be the villain he was raised to be. Entirely defeated, he sank to the floor and let the weapon fall from his fingers as he accepted his demise with tears streaming down his cheeks.

Hanbin couldn't understand why the bar owner bailed him out of the jailhouse after two weeks of total isolation.

Perhaps he had been just pathetic enough that he could be useful. Ricky Shen had surely seen his faults and would be using it to his advantage, pushing him around like a ragdoll. But he wasn’t anything but that, instead offering Hanbin a job as long as he could remain a harmless ex-raider. Hanbin had balled his eyes out and thanked him for the chance of being just a simple civilian.

The sheriff kept a close eye on him but discovered very quickly he did not have to.

Hanbin hardly left the establishment, happy to just stay indoors and do whatever task he was told to do. He was quiet, only speaking when spoken to and making sure he was nothing but polite to the patrons who suspiciously eyed him.

He found comfort in the ghoul, another social outcast just like him. Maybe a little bit quieter and reserved, but just as kind. They were the most productive when it was just the two of them on shift.

Hao was an anomaly.

Hanbin had never heard of a socially privileged man being so enthralled with the lives of lower class citizens. The way he poked and prodded at Jiwoong’s torn skin, the way he consistently asked Hanbin for stories about his time as a raider. Despite his upbringing, Hao left no room for judgement, instead allowing curiosity to shine through.

He knew that Hao and Jiwoong were in love, anybody could have seen that. The way they spoke to each other with such gentleness, such respect. Hanbin would be lying if he said he wasn’t jealous of both of them.

That was until Hao began dragging Hanbin into Jiwoong’s room at night, demanding they both sit and entertain him. He didn’t like it at first, feeling entirely left out with the happy couple together. He would have left Megaton entirely if Hao didn’t ask him to stay— if he hadn’t kissed him just as passionately as he had kissed Jiwoong.

“You can’t leave, Hanbinnie,” Hao had argued, “I’m not done with my paper on rehomed raiders!”

“I don’t think I should be intruding on you two.”

“Us two? It should be us three.”

Hanbin was shocked to find that Jiwoong enjoyed kissing him just as much as Hao did, taking every chance he could. The ghoul’s lips were rough but irresistable, his touches feather light despite the roughness of his hands. In contrast, Hao was soft and smooth, an addicting mix of textures that convinced him to stay a little too easily.

For the first time after being taken from his home, Hanbin had found two men who could forgive for who he had been forced to be.

It was simple, integrating back into society when he was loved.

HAO

He only knew riches.

Living in the upper levels of the Diamond City stadium, being one of the families closest to Mayor McDonough. Even if his elitist parents weren’t entirely present in his life, he could have whatever he wanted.

But despite being from royalty, Hao found himself fraternizing with the lower levels of the stands, finding friendship with the less-earning citizens despite his parents’ great annoyance. But it wasn’t worth it to tell him what to do— he’d break the rules, anyway.

He loved the Great Green Jewel but yearned for some sort of adventure, sometimes sneaking out of the gates to run with his delinquent friends. Even when he got caught, his parents didn’t seem to particularly care if he was making stupid decisions or not. They were too caught up in shallow gossip and drama that came with being a first class citizen.

When Nick Valentine opened up his detection agency when Hao turned 18, he was the first person knocking at the door, asking over and over if the man potentially had work for him. And Nick had refused at first, not intending on hiring a bright-eyed privileged kid from the upper stands with no background of fighting or work history. But Hao was the most persistent kid he’d ever encountered, so he’d given him a desk job to shut him up.

Hao proved himself useful in many investigations he shouldn’t have been a part of. Finding clues when Nick couldn’t find them himself, writing research papers on topics that helped Nick with his understanding of certain cases, throwing down evidence bags with objects that left the man shocked to his core.

Needless to say, it wasn’t long before Detective Valentine hired Hao on for real. Even with the boy’s lack of experience in the wasteland, he trusted him enough to take on major mysteries miles and miles away. And Hao did him justice each and every time, solving the case as fast as he possibly could.

It wasn’t until Hao’s farthest mission did Nick truly worry for his wellbeing.

Venturing into The Capital Wasteland was a feat that not even Nick had done in years. But he needed to track the case of a missing Commonwealth trader, lost somewhere in downtown DC. So with a single gun and a case full of first aid, Hao was escorted by two mercenaries all the way to The Capital.

He found the trader dead almost instantaneously.

It was a rather disappointing end to his mission, considering he had only spent a few days in DC before he found the body. He’d gathered all the evidence he needed before deciding to explore the wastes on his own, eventually stopping at a settlement by the name of Megaton.

The bartender caught his eye immediately.

Hao had never in his life seen a non-feral ghoul before, considering they were completely outlawed in his hometown. A living, breathing, harmless human serving drinks right in the middle of town. A rugged man wearing a black button-up and a pair of torn-up jeans. And despite the many tears on his face, Hao had never been so enthralled before.

His name was Jiwoong and he used to be a moviestar.

Hao had always been taught that ghouls were disgusting, vile creatures— even the non-feral ones. But nothing on earth could be more incorrect.

Jiwoong was stunning to look at, fascinating to study, lovely to speak to. Hao found himself staying far too long in Megaton when he should have been returning to his detective agency. But he couldn’t help it, not with the charming ghoul eating up all his time and interest.

He loved feeling the scars on his body and begging for more stories in Los Angeles and South Korea. He loved when Jiwoong smiled at his compliments and bashfully hid away from Hao’s traveling hands. He especially loved it when Jiwoong sighed into their kisses.

Nick wasn’t too shocked to find that his best detective had fallen in love miles and miles away. He’d simply kept in close contact and established Hao as his Capital detective, solving mysteries around DC instead of Boston. That way, Hao could live comfortably with the man he loved.

Then came Hanbin, the second boy of wonders.

Hao had been in the bar when the failed raider had tried to rob it, entertained instead of frightened by the man’s lack of violence. In fact, he’d considered bailing Hanbin out of jail before Ricky even got to it.

He asked him the same questions he’d asked Jiwoong— his backstory, his attributes, his thoughts on The Capital. He was equally as interesting, easy to write about and wonderful to talk to.

And just like the first man, Hao found himself falling in love a second time around. But despite this, he didn’t love his ghoul any less.

“How about I just kiss both of you?” Hao had said one day, sitting criss-crossed on Jiwoong’s bed.

The two men had looked at each other and shrugged, not knowing exactly how to answer the question.

“Aren’t you two together?" Hanbin had asked, looking to the side with a melancholic smile.

“I don’t mind if you kiss him,” Jiwoong said nonchalantly, giving Hanbin a small smile. “I wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to kiss you, either.”

And so Hao had made the choice to keep both of them, as greedy as he knew it was. Kissing both of them, indulging in both of them, studying both of them. But they accepted it with no issues, eventually falling in love with each other.

Two social rejects and their socially accepted detective, somehow creating beautiful harmony.

TAERAE

He’d always hated the secrets.

He loathed being the offspring of his mother, the one who swore he would end up like her.

When his father died, Gyuvin was the only person left in the world that he truly loved. If he had to bear the secrets of the vault, then Gyuvin would be the one free of such horrors. He would live with the knowledge of corruption as long as it meant his brother could live with love.

He adored diversity, of course, the preservation of cultures and his language in the vaults. But he couldn’t help but shake the fact that it was all hiding something sinister, something darker under the surface. They weren’t meant to survive for as long as they did, and Taerae knew it.

But he was the up and coming scientist, the soon-to-be neurosurgeon in training, the fun and goofy loving son of the beloved Overseer. He had a role to fill in the vaults, especially when he didn’t want them to know what he discovered on their wretched terminals.

When The Institute reached out to him, he thought for sure he they would ask him to eradicate vault 134’s entire existence. People on the surface hated nothing more than vault dwellers privileged enough to live sheltered away from the soil. If they only knew what Vault-Tec put them through, then perhaps they’d think differently.

The Institute wanted to establish contact with as many vaults as possible, noting the ones that were still alive and well. Had they made any scientific breakthroughs that would help The Institute move forward in science? Had they observed any strange phenomena after living underground for 200 years? Was anybody from the vaults willing to travel to the surface to work for their people?

His invitation was immediate, just a few months after he was moved to lead scientist. It was perfect timing, leaving the vault was a great antidote for erasing the horrors the council had confided in him with. The truth about his mother, the experiments they did on his own people, the patch of mutated dahlias outside of the vault door, the demise they had planned for the clinical test subjects— his own brother.

He was going to come back as soon as possible to retrieve him, to break him out of the vault once and for all. He would only be gone for a few months before he returned and finally told his brother the truths. He wasn’t entirely sure Gyuvin would be able to handle it, with his bright-eyed demeanor and drive to do good.

He’d left a holotape on the bedside table right before hacking his way out.

“Gyuvin, please do not be frightened when you find this. And when you do find this, hide it from mom immediately, she knows what I am planning to do and she is going to try to stop me. I’ll only be gone for a few months Gyuvinnie, you’re going to have to trust that I will come back for you. I was called to the wasteland for reasons I cannot tell you yet, but I promise you that I’ll explain everything when I return. It will be easier to retrieve you then.”

“Kim Gyuvin, I love you. Wait for me.”

GYUVIN

He loved nothing more than his vault.

He was proud of his culture and the preservation of the diversity in 134. It was ridiculously fun to learn other languages and participate in a variety of customs— Chinese New Year in January, Diwali in October, Children’s Day in May, Christmas in December. He had no shortage of knowledge, knowing there was always somebody he could learn from.

Despite the strange feelings he felt about his mother, the life he led with his friends and brother outweighed it.

He’d met Keita as a child, being his next door neighbor. They’d spoken in English at first, until they were able to pick up each other’s languages after only a few months of knowing one another. From there on out, they were inseparable.

Marcel joined their brigade only a year after, solidifying Gyuvin’s sixth known language as Polish. They’d met him in mandatory physical education, quickly adopting him into their friend group as he was the only boy playing alone.

Turning 16 was the worst day of Gyuvin’s life.

He was going to be part of Taerae’s lab, helping the scientists move forward with breakthroughs in medicine and research. He was going to be just like their father, doing the best that he could for the wellbeing of his people.

Being a clinical test subject was awful. The G.O.A.T test was one of the final things that began to truly sway his trust in the vault, doubting that everything they did would be 100% correct all the time.

And with the ominous statements from his brother, the cracks began to show through.

“Do you think mom misses dad?” He’d asked his brother one day, getting ready to suffer through another grueling day at work.

Taerae’s face had fallen in a way Gyuvin had never seen before/.

“I think she regrets not saying goodbye.”

He loved his vault.

But he wasn’t sure if it loved him.

RICKY

Shi excellence.

Ricky had no choice but to live up to the great names in his family, being trained in every profession under the sun.

Combat, trading, bartering, athletics, business-owning. There was never a day he wasn’t adding to his repertoire of incredible skills, making triple sure he’d never disappoint his casino-owning parents.

He knows he was born in San Francisco but spent the early days of his childhood on The Strip, carefully watching the way in which his family would carry out business. They loved him dearly, but they also expected the most. He, however, had no trouble being the best son the Shi faction had ever seen.

He knew he was destined to return to The New California Republic when he got older, finally being introduced to the rest of his faction and settling there. The Shens were the moneymakers of the tribe, setting up the Gomorrah casino in order to turn a profit.

Things would have gone just fine if Mr. House hadn’t seized control of The Strip when he was 15. Perhaps he would have known what the evil man did with his beloved parents, wishing he could have come back to anything but an empty room and a passive-aggressive note on the door.

“Your parents refused to let me do this the easy way.

Sorry, kid. That’s just the way Vegas is.

Mr. House.”

He had no time to mourn, no time to do anything but figure out a survival route for himself. He knew he’d have no trouble, however, considering his many skills and attributes. The Strip knew who he was and respected him, even if his parents were no longer around to keep his title. Somebody would hire him.

He’d seen Yujin once or twice before he was 15, roaming the streets of Freeside with a content expression on his face. Other kids were constantly in tears with dirt covering their faces, but Yujin was different. He was clever.

Ricky thought for sure the havoc being wreaked in the casinos was simply due to the adults being incredible idiots over money— until he watched the young boy sneak out the back of the Lucky 38 with a bag full of poker chips. With a shit-eating grin on his face, Yujin continued to swindle every man in his wake.

He’d be a good companion to have, Ricky thought. A kid smart enough to match his own expertise, teaming up to face the wasteland together. He would have approached Yujin first if the kid hadn’t tried to rob him.

He’d never seen the boy so scared before, almost feeling guilty that he didn’t just let Yujin have the tin of caps. But he used the opportunity to ask if he was interested in joining forces so they wouldn’t have to be so alone. It worked swimmingly, and Ricky found himself finding joy in taking care of another human.

By the time Ricky was 16, The Strip became more violent than it had ever been.

Crime rose in numbers, factions began sending attacks on one another, Mr. House started carrying out assassinations. It was no place for children, especially for somebody as young as Yujin— even if it’s the only thing he’d ever known.

“Would it be crazy to ask if you wanted to run away from here?” Ricky had popped the question nonchalantly, watching as Yujin counted the caps he’d just stolen.

The kid shrugged with a smile. “I’m down.”

And so they made the decision to escape Nevada, looking forward to a safer haven. Being a new older brother, Ricky wanted nothing more than to give Yujin a normal life and a normal childhood. He’d been lucky enough to experience some of that growing up— he wanted to make sure Yujin could do the same.

The midwest was terribly ugly, but it was the safest place the two had been in months. Settlements were few and far between in the expanse of hideous desert. Crossing over that path was the easiest part of the journey.

The Capital Wasteland was the first place the two were welcomed with open arms.

Ricky doesn’t remember exactly how he and his brother ran into Lucas Simms. But he had taken pity on them immediately, giving them shelter and a place to stay until they could figure things out at age 18.

Ricky wasted no time using his skills. He’d somehow convinced Colin Moriarty to teach him how to bartend, assuring that he’d no longer have to worry about weekend or graveyard shifts. And by the time he was 18, Ricky knew the alcohol better than the old man did.

Yujin was much happier when he could relax and be a kid. He was relieved to finally live a somewhat normal life, being put into the Megaton school district by the sheriff himself. Though he missed the thrill of swindling, he also appreciated only having to carry out simple tasks devoid of crime.

Though skilled, Ricky knew the saloon needed more people than just him and Colin.

So when a curious ghoul begged for shelter in the middle of their bar, he’d taken the opportunity immediately. It took a whole hour of convincing his hot-headed boss but when he’d won the argument, it was completely worth it.

Jiwoong was like a second brother to him. He had always taken care of Yujin, but found comfort in being taken care of himself. The ghoul was protective and loyal to the saloon, treating Ricky as if they had been family all along.

The raider and the detective were his third and fourth brothers, entering his life shortly after the ghoul arrived and when Colin disappeared. He’d found Hao silly the moment he’d met him and saw right through Hanbin’s persona the moment he pulled a gun in his bar.

And after running from trouble his whole life, nothing seemed more simple than owning a bar at age 20.

☢️

References I made! In case you are a nerd like me and curious.

- Jiwoong’s inspiration comes from "The Ghoul/Cooper Howard" of the Amazon Prime Fallout series who was also a moviestar when the bombs dropped. (Fallout Show)

- Gunwook’s inspiration comes from "Maximus" of the Amazon Prime Fallout series who was a brotherhood initiate. (Fallout Show)

- The Shi tribe makes its appearance only in Fallout 2. They are crewmen descendents from a Chinese submarine that docked after the Great War. (Fallout 2)

- Dr. Li is a recurring character in both Fallout 3 and Fallout 4. She works with The Brotherhood in Fallout 3 but disappears into the Commonwealth after the main questline in Fallout 3 to work with The Institute. (Fallout 3 & 4)

- Three Dog’s lines from the radio station were all legitimate besides the ones I wrote about the behemoth & Gyubrik. (Fallout 3).

- I followed the plot of Fallout 3 up until they traveled to the Commonwealth. In the game, you travel to Rivet City first and then run into the behemoth super mutant at the GNR Building. In Fallout 4, you start out in Vault 111 and work your way towards The Institute. I sort of combined both plots lol. (Fallout 3 & 4).

- Shady Sands appears in Fallout 1 as well as the show and was founded by vault dwellers from Vault 15. (Fallout 1).

- Project Purity is the reason the vault dweller's father leaves in the first place during the events of Fallout 3. I have referenced project purity as already taking place in this fic. It is the reason the capital has access to clean water.

- I also mention the main character/protagonist of Fallout 3 & 4 multiple times – James from 101 (your father in Fallout 3), and the abducted child (your son in Fallout 4). I have also implied that Ricky is The Courier protagonist of New Vegas.

- I sort of unintentionally made a lot of parallels with the main character of the Fallout show: Lucy MacLean and Gyuvin. Lucy, too, is unaware of the horror of her vault.

- Fallout 76 is set in 2102 (Appalachia), Fallout 1 is set in 2161 (Southern California), Fallout 2 is set in 2241 (Northern California), Fallout 3 is set in 2277 (Washington D.C), Fallout New Vegas is set in 2281 (Nevada), and the Fallout TV series is set in 2298 (Los Angeles).

- Gyuvin’s vault is based on Vault 15, a vault designed to have cultures clash.

- I don’t think I made any direct references to Fallout 76…as I share the opinion of many other Fallout players and don’t like this game LMAO

- The Wasteland Survival Guide is written during the events of Fallout 3 due to the vault dweller’s close work with Moira Brown. In Fallout 4, it appears as a perk magazine that gives the player ranks of the Wasteland Survival perk. (Fallout 3 &4)

- “Pretty flowers need the sun” is a direct reference to the 1950’s song "Let's Go Sunning" by Jack Saindlin featured in Fallout 3. I've also referenced the song: Into Each Life Some Rain Must Fall by The Ink Spots (the song Gyuvin was listening to in chapter 1) and I Fall To Pieces by Patsy Cline (the song Gyubrik were listening to in bed).

- The supervillain referenced in Canterbury Commons is a real scripted event in Fallout 3. A rogue settler goes crazy and begins calling herself the "AntAgonizer," fighting against "The Mechanist." When you first enter the town, the two are embroiled in battle. (Fallout 3).

- Vault 125 is a reference to Vault 22 from New Vegas. All members of this vault were turned into spore creatures after a fungal outbreak as well as failed experiment. (Fallout New Vegas).

- Big MT , or the “Big Empty” is a pre-war defense contractor/research center that infamously conducted a series of highly unethical experiments. A lot of the creations that come from here do more harm than good. (Fallout New Vegas, Old World Blues DLC)

- G.O.A.T test is what you take at the very beginning of Fallout 3 to determine your skills & player build.

- A lot of major towns/cities are implied to be destroyed entirely. New York is generally considered to be ground zero along with the east coast in general. This is why a lot of the west is filled in but the rest is not.

- The cave they pass in the glowing sea is inhabited by Dr. Brian Virgil , the former Institute scientist turned friendly super mutant that you encounter in the main storyline (Fallout 4).

- It’s implied that most diseases in this game can be healed by any medic, hence why it wasn’t so crazy that they had to share a needle LOL.

- During the events of the games, the vault dweller isn’t able to do what they do if it isn’t for the help of friendly wastelanders. I tried to reflect that here. Additionally, Gyuvin’s build is implied to have a high ranking of luck, while Ricky lacks in this department.

- Stimpaks heal literally everything. If you’re wondering why Ricky and Gyuvin seemed to recover unnaturally fast, it’s because that is how the game mechanics work. Technology in this universe has progressed and many things can be fixed/healed by kits or medical supplies. I’ve actually made the healing in this au a bit more complex for the sake of realism. If you’ve watched the show, however, then you understand the slightly ridiculous healing.

- Nick Valentine, ironically, is a synth LOL. He is openly a synth too. But he is the only accepted synth in the commonwealth. I highly recommend checking out his character, he is one of the best parts of fallout 4.