And She Continued Pt 1

Symphonies in My Head

"You don't get it." His voice slid out of his throat; rough, gravelly, somehow soft.

Usually that tone, the heat underneath it, did something for me. Today, however, it did not. I crossed my arms and leaned against the wall. Anger coursed through me hotter than I could ever remember. Hotter than it had when I'd found Nate's dirty magazine stash, than when my teacher told me I couldn't have a particular case because I 'am a woman and don't understand the complexities of the male psyche', angrier than when I was on hold with Vault-Tec for four hours, went through seven different representatives and then was hung up on.

"Then explain it to me, Hancock." I was breathing deeply, evenly. Counting the seconds of each inhale and exhale.

I was going to murder this man. Kill him. Use his entrails to decorate for Halloween, Super Mutant style. He ran a hand over his bald head, a habit from when he had been a smooth skinned, blonde haired hunk. It was endearing, which made me rage all the more.

"Look sister-" He cut himself off, his hands twisting in on themselves, his eyes shifting. He sighed heavily, "I don't know how to talk to you sober, you won't understand."

I rolled my eyes, kicking off from the wall and taking a seat across from him. His black gaze captured me, I could see the struggle and torment swimming in their depths. My rage ebbed as I leaned back against the metallic side of the trailer. The raging rad storm outside soothed my mind despite the pricks of nausea from the radiation.

"Hancock... We've been travelling together for a while now. And never have you ever done something that stupid before." I sighed, my eyes trailing over the ceiling of our temporary shelter.

Rust had begun forming around the bolts and seams holding the thin metal sheets together. The skeletons of a couple huddled on one side painted a grisly scene when we had to kill the feral ghoul that had been trapped inside. Old blood crusted the walls, impossible to remove; baked in by the storms and sun and time.

"I know." His voice was a heavy whisper.

Thrills ran up my spine. I narrowed my eyes, avoiding him. Crushes were stupid.

"You almost got us killed."

"I... yeah." His argument died on his lips with a wince.

"So, once again I'm going to ask – what the Hell is going on with you?"

He sighed again, his hands pulled a Jet inhaler from his pocket. He fiddled with it some, sent me a sheepish frown and put it away when he caught my glare.

"I'm a ghoul." He whispered, his voice nearly drowned out by the roar of the weather behind us.

"Yes. You are." I sat a little straighter, my head now taking on the dull throbbing it did when a storm lasted too long. I missed regular thunderstorms. "And?"

He stood, pacing, fiddling with his hat before putting it back on. The lightning cracked green across the sky and lit his silhouette up like a goddamned super hero, or villain. The pain etched into every crease and scar was evident. He breathed deeply.

"This feels good." His eyes closed, his mouth split in a small smile.

My anger was almost completely gone by now. I remained silent.

"I'm a ghoul, doll." His shoulders hitched, "I'm an immortal stuck in a body rotting away around me. I'm surrounded by life and beauty and... and desire and passion and I'm... I'm dying the slowest of deaths."

I opened my mouth but he silenced me with a quick glance, his face was contorted with an emotion I couldn't place.

"I don't think you know what it feels like to fall apart and die. My brain is going to melt one day. I'll turn feral. Before that though, long before that, I'll see everyone I love age and pass away. Anyone I used to know. Except the other ghouls, and we'll all be mad and I'll be... truly alone then."