Sins, Cola and Sarsaparilla

Possessive

"Did you hurt her? Touch even a hair on her head?"

"What? Man what are you-, what the fuck!"

He felt the blood trickle down his face before the pain spread through his nose. And holy shit did it hurt.

"Did. You. Touch. Her. It ain't a hard fuckin' question, Savoy."

Savoy had never been scared, not even once in his life, which made sense, it's hard to be a raider, especially a Disciple, if you get scared.

But when that 6' something, chain-smoking, short tempered southerner had cornered him at the Nuka World Red Rocket, all alone, something sank in his stomach, his instincts screamed in the back of his brain.

Fight or flight.

Or maybe for the first time, Savoy would freeze. Maybe he wasn't actually scared, maybe he was just fucking confused. Seemed more likely, to both Savoy and his attacker.

Even so, it gave him enough time to hit him again, almost shattering his nose.

"C'mon, Savoy. Answer the damn question! Did you fuck her?"

"Is this about Vanessa!? Gage, you're crazy! When would I have-!"

Gage swung again. Savoy dodged the first hit, but the second one made contact. He hit the ground and coughed, spitting up blood. In these last few minutes alone, Savoy had seen more of his own blood than he remembered seeing in years.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and Gage slammed his bare knuckles into his temple. He caught the frenzied look in the older raider's eye. He knew. He didn't know who had let it slip, maybe Dixie, but they hadn't seen hide nor hair of her since she'd gone out on one of her hunts.

Maybe Vanessa had known it was him and Dixie all along. Maybe she'd just been holding it in, waiting to tell someone.

God, Savoy wanted to wring her pretty fucking neck.

"I didn't actually fuck her. If that's what you're worried about."

"And you're still fuckin' takin' back t'me. Are you gonna fuckin' learn!?"

Crack!

His knuckles busted open with that punch, and blood started to come to the surface of his skin. He looked down at them and shook his hand. He had two.

Crack!

His left hand slammed into Savoy's jaw. The knuckles on it were already bruised, any more and he'd bust them open like the ones on his right hand.

He slides his thumb along his own bottom lip, and then spits on Savoy.

Gage is reminded of the last time he'd found Mason and Vanessa together, how she'd been held against the table with a knife through her palm and a hand on the side of her head. How Mason had been so sure he and his Pack were going to win, that he was going to take his prize before the battle was over. How when Gage had entered, both Vanessa and her attacker looked almost relaxed. How despite the blood streaming from his face from his eye, and despite the knife lodged in his shoulder, Mason smiled cooly and looked him dead in the eyes as if he didn't have his girlfriend in the position she was in.

He was reminded of how he had shot Mason once. And how in that moment he'd been shaking with rage and adrenaline and how he had wished in that moment and ever since then that he'd made the damn dog suffer. He wasn't going to let the opportunity pass by him again.

"Good. You've shut the fuck up," he crouched down, Savoy was shaking slightly, almost unnoticeably, blood streaming from his nose and his mouth and his eyebrow and his cheekbone, "so I'm gonna tell you what I'm gonna do, alrigh'?"