Chapter Text
Just another diamond day.
The blue skies reached into forever without a single puffy cloud in sight. The smell of late fall was taking hold of the Commonwealth, with soggy ground, and the faint chill of a winter soon to be.
She scanned the surrounding area with her binoculars as the last piece of her Fancy Lad Cakes was shoved into her greedy mouth. They went quickly, as they were always Nora's favorite, even before all this. Nora had to hide them from a certain someone, so it was best to eat them in private.
And who cares that she found some solace in sycamore trees?
Just another diamond day.
What more could she ask for?
She was alive. She was breathing. She was enjoying life as much as one could after a deep freeze and deep slumber.
Fancy Lad Cakes had a jingle, right?
Nora sucked the sickeningly sweet icing off her fingertips, humming along to a tune she couldn't fully remember. "A big delight in every bite!"
Was that right? Why did it seem off?
How long had she been unfrozen for? Five or six months? Or was it four? She had never been good with numbers. And now that she didn't have any leads to follow and nowhere to go, all she had to do was adjust. And it seemed as though she had all the time in the world to do so.
It had been just her, after all.
No survivors from the vault. It wasn't like she had family there, either. Just a bunch of strangers. It had to be some divine lesson or some mumbo jumbo that she lived and they had died for a purpose of some kind. Nora should have been thankful she was the sole survivor after the vault pods malfunctioned.
Nora's bottom had gone numb at some point as she adjusted herself on the sturdy branch. She continued her aerial sweep with those trusty binoculars. Perceptiveness had saved her life more than once.
Withered trees. Lifeless vegetation. And the skyline was touched with hills, valleys, and mountains alike. A long line of lopsided wooden utility poles lined what was left of a road. Nothing left but cracked and destroyed asphalt, and a single broken down Corvega. The road led straight into the horizon, like some kind of apocalyptic painting.
It had been the same old sights, but now worlds apart.
No sight of her companion or the supplies he'd been trusted with to lug around, either.
She supposed he was alright... probably. Hopefully not getting himself into trouble.
What the hell was she gonna do? There wasn't a job worth the caps that would make her feel normal again. Not like the Commonwealth needed lawyers now.
This was the new normal. She just had to accept it. That was easier said than done.
Suddenly, Nora could feel the vibrations of huge footsteps creeping up the tall sycamore tree. It started at the trunk and expanded out to the branch she had been perched on, rattling out to the small dead limbs. It felt like a Deathclaw. And a very big one, at that.
The scaled skin. The long, sharpened horns. The curled, razor-like claws. The dangerous maw. What's more to love about a mutated killing machine than that?
Maybe she should have shelled out for the armor-piercing rounds at Bunker Hill. She just has to be cheap. She just had to go for the junk rounds in bulk.
Keeping one hand on the binoculars, she reached over her back with the other, readying her modified hunting rifle. But she had found nothing but the sleek material of the vault suit and the raised numbers of the vault it belonged to.
No gun. No protection.
Suddenly, Nora realized that she had forgotten it at the base of the tree when she decided to scale it.
What an idiot she had been.
Maintaining a semblance of nerve, she searched the road that stretched out in front of her and all around it. Nora heard a guttural groan. Then, a force that rattled the tree and made her jerk forward. Her binoculars dropped from her hand as they rounded backward and into her chest. The leather straps that were attached to them rubbed her neck uncomfortably, pulling at her baby hairs.
Her panicked gaze was directed downward.
She breathed in a heavy sigh of relief, seeing that it wasn't a bloodthirsty Deathclaw, but instead, it was a familiar super mutant looking especially grumpy this morning.
Strong was clad in light armor this outing. Leaving his clunky metal gauntlets and boots behind in favor of cloth wraps that'd make him a bit more agile. Apart from the few small bent signs and thin metal sheets around his wrist, waist, and shins, he only bore one 'real' piece of armor.
A chestplate made out of a salvaged air conditioner panel. While she praised him for his creativity, the panel itself was far too small to be of any benefit, just barely covering a third of his torso.
And thank God he had been carrying all their supplies on his back, just like she requested. That was one worry off her mind.
At least they could keep salvaging and scraping by. To Strong's dismay, of course.
Strong craned his head all the way up to see her, his hand producing a bit of shade over his eyes. Strong squinted at her, his brow wrinkled, and part of his upper lip inched upward.
To any other wastelander, the situation would be dire. But for her, it was like any other morning.
"Good morning, Str-"
With impatience, he punted the sycamore with his foot, causing the tree to shudder in response. Nora nearly fell forward from the force alone. Strong could have struck the tree a few times before it would have easily toppled over in awe of his brute strength.
It was a dead tree versus an eight hundred pound hulking giant. Of course, he had a chance to bring it down.
"Come down, little bleeder! Strong bored!" His voice was gruff, strained, and slow.
The diamond in the rough himself.
Nora swung her legs forward and backward in the openness of the air. She regretfully looked down between them, and then the swirl of vertigo bit her. It would be a long, long drop down. Maybe she shouldn't have climbed so high. But hey, a vantage point was a vantage point.
"On one condition! We play one game!" She gave him an ear-to-ear smile and tentatively called down to him. As she often did, she tested her 'little' mutant friend. "You gotta catch me, Strong!"
"No more games, human!" His irritation became even more evident as he pouted and rubbed his ruddy nose with the back of his makeshift bracer. The bent stop sign looked insignificant, curled around his wrist. "Strong not like your games!"
While holding onto the bark of the tree trunk for support, Nora sat up and steadied her boots on the tree branch. She prayed he wouldn't kick it again as she spoke. "O-one more game, then we do what Strong wants. Just catch me and I'm all yours, big guy."
"...human." With a huff, he folded. "Strong will catch you."
With the affirmation, she trusted Strong's word.
She had trusted Strong with her life many times, and today would be no different.
Nora leapt from the thick branch. She held her arms outward and dove forward. In an instant, Strong had her abdomen clasped firmly in his hands. With the intense force, she could have sworn she felt her intestines at the back of her throat.
He was still a little heavy handed, even after practice. Strong set her down on the steady earth and brushed the top of her head with his giant mutant hand, in tiny, yet rough, pets.
Apparently, Strong was very impressionable. At one of the many settlements, Strong must have watched her pet a stray cat, or dog, or something.
And how could he resist doing the same thing to another person? From time to time, he would use those heavy bricks he called hands to pet the top of her head. At least he didn't call her, 'kitty-kitty'.
"Strong catch, see?" The super mutant said rather proudly of himself, trailing on. "Human always in trees, like little creature."
While absentmindedly rubbing her soon-to-be bruised stomach, she asked. "A squirrel?"
There were a few things that she shared with a squirrel: a small, slender body, beady eyes, and a penchant for shiny objects.
She was sure she was a little nuts, too.
"Why in trees? Sneaky killing? Sneaky killing not make bleeder strong. Make bleeder weak." He warned, his nostrils flaring.
Then Strong bared his teeth at her. She used to find that menacing. Now it was just him trying to get what he wanted by fear alone. But she wasn't nearly as afraid as she used to be.
His fist clenched before Strong beat it into the chest piece of his makeshift armor. The metallic clangs seemed to echo through the emptiness of the Commonwealth.
Nora had often seen super mutants make that gesture. Mostly in firefights. She had no idea what it could have meant. She could have asked Strong, but he wasn't much help. He would grumble offhand about super mutants and their strange culture from time to time. But she felt just as clueless about Strong and his brethren.
They were a tribe all their own.
"Better vantage points." Nora said simply. She found her hunting rifle where she left it, holstering it back behind her, where it belonged. "Pow-Pow shoots better from far away."
It was easier to call it Pow-pow since Strong lacked grace in the vocabulary department. The hunting rifle was also incredibly expensive. The mods alone made her purse incredibly light. It had a lot more work to pay itself off.
"Always use dumb gun! Strong said, sneaky killing no good. Miss out on the battle! Battle make weak die and strong survive!"
Nora rolled her eyes as he went into the familiar angry tirade, shutting down any opinions she might have had. "I can't fight like you, Strong. You've been built for it. It's in your blood."
His anger simmered down when he heard the word blood, leading him to scratch an uneven divots across his head. He mumbled, befuddled. "Blood?"
"I mean, you're big and tall, and not to mention strong, Strong."
Nora clasped either side of his bicep as she stroked the tough, hard skin. She had to admire just how strong Strong was. With a squeeze, she almost hurt her fingers on how dense his muscles were. Harder than concrete, and the skin thicker than the hide of a Yao Guai.
He was also impossibly warm. She almost didn't want to let go. Particularly strange stray thoughts crossed her mind, but she shook them away as fast as they came to her.
"See? You're built like a house of bricks. You ain't moving nowhere, big guy."
The more she stroked Strong, the more bewildered he became. When she laid gentle touches on him, she tried her best to read his facial expressions. What was too much? What was enough? He used to snarl like a mutant hound when she would run her fingertips along his forearm, but now, he was as controllable and peaceful as a cute little Centaur in the palms of her hands. Sometimes.
It felt good to touch something again.
However, his confusion quickly turned to agitation once he picked up the discarded Fancy Lad Cakes box. It must have dropped during the commotion. She could only inwardly wince as his argument would start all over again at the sight of Pre-War packaging.
"Human need more meat. Get stronger like brothers. This is why human not as strong as Strong! Use Pow-Pow because this!" The box was held in front of her face for emphasis, like a husband's proof of adultery, before he threw it down and crushed it beneath his foot.
"Are you hungry, big guy?" The snappiness in her voice had to be obvious to the hulking giant as she folded her arms across her chest with a scowl. "Is that why your mood is so rotten today?"
The answer was an enthusiastic nod, followed by the boom of his voice. "Strong want kill something. Want good fight and good meat."
She thought that super mutants ate breakfast too. How much breakfast was another thing entirely.
"Don't worry, tall, green and handsome... we'll get you fed." Her snarky tone faded, and she beamed before patting his exposed stomach.
He didn't reply, and she could only bite her cheek nervously.
Strong had crossed his arms, as she had done. She wasn't sure if it was him being impressionable or if he was mocking her. He glowered, and in a condescending tone, he spoke. "Bleeder never eat. Leader tiny and small. Nothing like super mutant."
"I eat, Strong!" She flexed her unremarkable biceps and the super mutant bent down to inspect her. "See? Look at these guns."
She was small, however, she'd be damned to let a stiff breeze knock her onto her ass without a fight.
Maybe Strong had a point.
Having uncrossed his arms, a thick finger thrusted into her chest, and she just knew she would bruise there too. "Eat out of metal and paper things! That not meat of enemies! Battles and meat make bleeder strong!"
"You want a fight, huh?" She was tired of his teamwork motivational speeches.
She remembered faint memories of traveling with her father to Appalachia and going camping on the weekends. She learned everything about survival from him, which wasn't all that much. He was often ornery about something and complained. It could have been the weather, the camper leaking, the hunting rifle getting scuffed. Not enough deer. Too many deer.
Nora had no interest in it at the time, but after two hundred-something years, she had to give it another go. Especially with the big guy.
"Why don't you and I go hunting, Strong?"
"Hunt for humans?" He asked inquisitively.
"Not that kind of hunting. Humans used to hunt for wild animals. My father and I would hunt for these things called deer in the-"
An excitable grunt cut her off as he struck his armor. She was surprised that he didn't dent it.
His lips tugged into a grin, and his eyes glinted with newfound delight. "Deer sound like strong enemy. Strong crush Deer! Come human, follow Strong. New game! "
Without another word, he began sprinting along the cracked road in the direction of the hills and mountains. The road trembled under his footsteps, and the supplies on his back jingled along with him. Nora followed shortly behind, calling out for him to slow down all the while.
He didn't know where he was going, but boy, he seemed determined.