Now or Never: Elder Maxson x Reader - Part 2

10 - Greentech

A/N: There are graphic depictions of gore in this chapter: you have been warned.

"This place was beautiful, before," Uri sighs, eyeing the decrepit walls of the CIT ruins. The wings have given out over time, collapsing in amongst themselves. The scaffolding from repair works hangs precariously on to the areas that remain - though this, too, has rusted over the years. Some of it lays dotted amongst the crumbled stone and dank, long-dead grass.

"It was full of those who took science too far, Knight. Don't let its looks fool you."

"I knew this place way before you were born, kiddo. Now c'mon - there's an old apartment block around the corner. It was made especially for the snotty brats who studied here. Should be the perfect place to leave our supplies... I'm not letting this pack of stuff slow me down."

Arthur grumbles in annoyance, but gestures for Danse to follow. The apartment block in question is only a short walk away - close enough for them to rush to if the need arises, but far enough away to make sure no synths can stab them in their sleep. A group of radroaches have deemed the old place their nest, so they waste a good hour clearing all five floors of the overgrown pests before they find a suitable space.

"Hmph," Uri sneers, eyeing the room in contempt, "Look at this. Look at how big their apartments were. Folks working twelve hour shifts could barely afford food, yet this lot were living the high life on their super-inflated student loans. Fucking House with his stupid finance schemes. Helping the rich gain capital while the world went to shit."

Arthur, once again, has no clue what she is rambling on about. Danse looks as baffled as he feels, so they leave her to it. She is right about one thing: the room is fairly big, with lots of storage space for them to hide their supplies. They stack their food in the wardrobes, toss any old clothes they find on the L-shaped sofa in the corner of the room and hide their overabundance of signal grenades in an old safe.

"Alright," Arthur sighs, perching on the end of a double bed. He hands Uri the can of purified water he has just opened, which she takes gratefully. "It's best we tune into the radio station. I'm going to assume that something about it will change whenever a Courser relays to the CIT ruins?"

"I think so," Uri hums, returning his water so that she can toy with her Pip-Boy's radio. She finds the station with relative ease, and a soothing cacophony of strings and high-pitched keys fills the room. Uri grimaces. "I hate classical music. I should've asked Virgil when synth rush-hour takes place."

There is an old truck full of irradiated barrels sat stagnating in the old college square, so the trio decide to use a nearby caravan as shelter until Uri's Pip-Boy finds the signal they need. Arthur volunteers to take the first watch, so he kneels by the window whilst Danse and Uri stand in the shadows.

For a while they remain silent, as occasional gunshots put the group on edge. As the hours tick by they come to realise that the battle is too far away for them to worry about, so Danse finally removes his helm and turns to Uri.

"So, what was it like before the war?"

"This place?" She clarifies, and the Paladin nods. "It was beautiful. Only the smartest studied here, so you can imagine I stuck out like a sore thumb. I didn't care, though. I wasn't a student - obviously - but I used to hang out here in the summer. The gardens were a lot prettier; full of flowers and grass, students lounging around with textbooks that gave the bible's girth a run for its money, friends tucking into store-bought picnics..."

"What's a picnic?"

"Oh, uh - it's a lunch that you take to a park or garden, you take pre-packed sandwiches and stuff in a basket, lay out a blanket and eat there. It was just a cute thing to do in your spare time."