Fallout: Born Unto Trouble

10. To Forget

The sunlight was still blinding as ever when the three of them - Gloria Hill, Butch DeLoria, and Stacy Cole - found themselves at the top of the hill overlooking Megaton and the remnants of Springvale. It was nostalgic to Gloria at least, and Butch and Stacy both covered their eyes with both of their hands.

Gloria opted to give them each a pair of sunglasses, but she didn't have any. She smiled, remembering how scared she was, how lost and desperate she used to be. Now she could say she's the Ranger of the Wastes, whatever that means. Three Dog calls her that, and the name kinda stuck. "Lone Wanderer" doesn't apply to her any more since she picked up Dogmeat.

"Your headache will go away in about a day," Gloria mumbled and led the two to Megaton.

She had deja vu when she entered the gates of the small ramshackle town, except now she was literally a legend and a few thousand caps richer.

It was nice knowing that she started a new chapter in her life. She was probably never going to see anyone from the Vault (except Butch and Stacy) ever again, and she honestly didn't care one bit. This was her life now: wake up, kill something, come home, get high, go to sleep. It was nicer than her Vault routine, and it felt even better knowing that she never had to put a bandaid on anyone's scraped knee ever again.

The overwhelming sense of nausea hit her right as she stepped onto the broken pavement. She bent over and threw up as Butch and Stacy looked away, giving her some sense of privacy.

Well. That was interesting. Maybe it was the alcohol or the rush of adrenaline she's been feeling almost all day. She wiped her mouth and spit onto the ground a few times, then covered the mess with dirt. "That was weird."

"You okay?" Stacy asked, rubbing her finger under her nose; she did that when she needed to stim, and Gloria assumed throwing up overstimulated her.

"Yeah, probably had too much to drink is all. I'll be fine. I think." She mumbled the last sentence, while she rubbed her eyes, then placed her glasses back on her face.

"Anyways, we should go. I've got a place in a town nearby and I'll show you the ropes."

Both of them were fascinated by the size of Megaton. The Vault was probably much larger, but Megaton was a large area enclosed by fences and built up instead of out. Butch touched the metal railings with wonder and burned himself like Gloria had done so many months ago.

They fit in well in Gloria's home, like they've lived there before. Butch had found himself something to fiddle around with while Stacy counted the holes and sharp snags in the walls.

Gloria, on the other hand, had drunken herself into an alcohol-induced-almost coma and slept on the floor like a dog. Neither Butch nor Stacy found the energy to move her.

Stacy picked up a half-empty bottle of vodka and took a swig, cringing as it traveled down her throat and set it back onto the floor near the other countless bottles of alcohol. The sight was worrying, to say the least, but Stacy didn't really know how to approach the subject.

Maybe it wasn't even her business; besides, Butch was way better at dealing with this kind of thing than she was.

The thought of Gloria drinking herself to death made her heart sink. While they hadn't been close throughout childhood, she was one of the only people she knew out here in the Wasteland.

Oh, Geez. Gloria didn't have anyone she knew out here when she first left the Vault. It must have been torture knowing that everything she knew was only down the road and sealed behind a six-ton door.

Everything Stacy knew was sealed behind that door. She sighed and tucked her hair behind her eyes, closing her eyes slowly to let the feeling sink in.