But He Stopped Pt 2

We're Both the Same

"Rosie?" I made my way up the rickety staircase slowly, gun held at the ready.

We had smeared the ghouls trapped in the house out on the pavement, and that's where we had been separated. She had gone after a couple bloatflies and I'd chased down a vampiric bloodbug. The hole in my abdomen had healed up nicely by the time I reached the last step. I looked around the second floor, freezing in place at the sight.

The acid from the bloatflies had eaten at the exposed leather, her skin was raw in places. Dusk filtered in through the dusty windows, a broken bed sat collapsed over a floor safe that was untouched, broken lamps at either side. Shredded curtains billowed slowly and bloodstains stained the floor. A bottle and teddy bear were opposite the crib that Rosie stood at, frozen; entranced. She was barely breathing as her hands rested delicately on the crib, her eyes were dry, tears stains left trails down her cheeks where they washed away the dust on her face. My heart broke, just as it had the other night when she began crying out in her sleep.

I took a step back, unsure if I should be intruding in the moment.

"I always wanted babies." Her voice was low, hypnotic. "I wanted a baby so bad it ached. When I found out I was pregnant I was so happy." She turned to look at me without seeing me, as though the ghost of her old life was directly behind me. "I loved every exhausted, awful, wonderful, horrible moment of being a new mom. the sleepless nights, swollen breasts, saggy stomach, blow out diapers. I loved it. And now it's gone."

I took a step forward, her eyes zeroed in on me. "If you could have more kids would you?"

She didn't reply, wrenching her gaze to the broken mobile and filthy mattress instead.

"You have nightmares." I took another step towards her, and another. Till I was by her side. "I see the way you look at baby strollers, cribs, toys... I-I don't know if I can have anymore kids."

She bristled at my comment.

"That other night, when I..." I cleared my throat, trying not to remember the way she felt against me or the things we had done, "Y-you started talking in your sleep. You were incoherent at first, but the one thing you said over and over was 'Shaun'. Whether you admit it out loud or to yourself you are suffering." I touched her arm softly. She jerked away, wrapping her hands around herself. "I want to help you. You're... you're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

Her green eyes scraped up and down me with an unsteady waiver.

"I want my baby back, John." Her voice was thin and hoarse. "I don't want to run around rescuing these people, getting their stupid mementos for them; medical junk, some drug ferns, toy parts, whatever." She leaned against me, "I want my son. I want those years back that were stolen from me."

I held her against me for a while, as the sun set and the stars poked out against the brisk winter sky. The cold leeched into the house.

"Sometimes," she pulled away to look at me. I resisted the urge to duck my head from her gaze. "Sometimes I forget what you're going through. You're so strong, you're so put together. I forget how close to breaking you are."

She snorted, "I am not-"

I held up a hand as she pulled out of my grasp. "It's not an insult." I amended, "I have watched you build walls no one could climb over, I have seen you wipe out Raider encampments, automatrons, Ghoul swarms, Deathclaws and not even bat an eye. I've watched you travel for days without sleep to answer the call of someone we both knew was most likely dead - but you hoped. You always hope. I've seen you cry after finding another person you couldn't save, after losing a settler to a Super attack, when we found that dog caged up in the middle of nowhere. You're... you're amazing, Rosie. You're so strong." I grabbed her hand, "I forget what you've gone through. I forget that you're not invincible. God, Rosie... I-I love you."