sad fat: the squeakquel

Withdrawl. (Terra and Glenn) [Fallout Universe]

He regretted opening the door the moment he did it. Almost immediately, the smell of alcohol hit him. What was it tonight? Whiskey? Vodka?
He knew she never really cared.

As Glenn walked into her room, she snapped up straight. She'd clearly been crying, the dust and dirt on her face smeared and mixed in with her tears. He was used to her episodes. Then he was used to her brushing them off.

But he was caught off guard as soon as he saw the needle in her arm. The empty Jet on the floor.

Terra O'Glennen didn't do chems. And certainly never mixed them with alcohol.

But here she was. A quivering, twitching, crying fucking mess of a woman with nothing left to cling to except her empty flask. Glenn didn't know if he should rush to her side and hold her or slam the door shut and leave.  There had been a time he would have been gentle and loving to her. Even at her worst. But not now. Maybe not ever again.

"Ter-" he began slowly, taking baby steps towards her.

"DON'T YOU FUCKIN' DARE, FOUR EYES." She snarled as soon as his lips formed her name.
"DON'T COME ANYWHERE NEAR ME- DON'T LECTURE ME- DON'T FUCKIN' TOUCH ME- AN- AN GET THE HELL OUTTA MY ROOM."

Glenn winced. Disobeying her and slowly putting a hand to her shoulder. A disappointed, sad look on his face. Terra went to slap him. But broke almost immediately, crumpling like old paper.
She shoved away, scuttling across the floor like a wild animal. Her eyes wide as she looked around.

It was sickening to see Terra like this. Terra, who was so damn against chems she'd snatch them out of people's hands and dispose of them. Terra, who was willing to receive broken bones over a dispute about these drugs.
Terra, who's father had almost killed her over drugs. Who had made her choose between him and life.

Terra, who's skin was turning bluer by the second as the green of her eyes faded.
"I-I ain't- I ain't never asked you- to fuckin'- fuckin' help me- I don't need it- I swear ta' god Glenny-" She sputtered, slipping her gun out of her pouch. Aiming it at him. Most people would have left. See her having fit and fucking leave. Benny did. Lucy did.
Glenn didn't.
The gun? He knew it had nothing left in it. So he wasn't afraid as he crouched down in front of her. Pulling a cloth from his bag and wiping her cheeks gently. Removing all of the dried blood, dirt, tears, and any other traces of unwanted additions off her face.

"Terra... stop." He whispered. "I don't-" he began. But sighed.
"I don't know why the absolute hell you'd even think of doin' this to yourself. And I ain't gonna ask. I'm no fool. You won't answer." He snorts lightly, fixing his glasses as he sits down and takes her hand quickly. Holding it so she doesn't wrench away.
"But this ain't you. And I'm not leavin' till-"

"Till w-what?" She demands, wiping her face with her arm. "Till I get better? Till everythangs fuckin' puppies an- an rainbows an smiles? I'M A FUCKIN' PIT, DRISCOLL." She forces a laugh, waving her gun around like a madwoman.
"I SUCK! I FUCKIN' SUCK AN'- AN' YOU- YOU GUYS TRY SO FUCKIN' HARD TO TELL ME I AIN'T BUT I CAN TELL RIGHT NOW JUS BY LOOKIN' AT YA-" she stops and looks at him. Pained. "YA WISH I WAS A BETTER PERSON! WISH I WAS- PRETTY N'- AN SMART AN EASY TO MANAGE- WHY CAN'T I BE MORE LIKE ADAM- OR- OR LIKE THEM PRETTY GALS YA MEET AROUND THE STRIP-"
She laughs still. Her eyes still releasing tears.
It's a couple of minutes until she actually speaks up again. Clearing her throat, quieter now.
"I hate to disappoint y'all. But some of us are jus' born broken. It's our- our place. N' we can't fix that shit with all the Wonderglue and duct tape in the world. Nobody can fix us."
She spits, before shakily standing up. Stumbling to her closet.
"N-Now do me a favor, cabbage head. An' get the FUCK outta my room."

Glenn doesn't hesitate to do what she asks.
After all.
She's right.