An Unlikely Pair

I awoke on a cot, my side throbbing almost as much as my head. As I reached an exploratory hand down my side, I felt the bandages and winced from the movement.


“Kid…”


I started at the voice.


“Oh shit!” I exclaimed, jerking my head towards to figure in the corner of the tent. The action alone invited a flash of pain to lance up my spine, and I cursed, “Fuck, Jericho… don’t scare me like that.”


But he continued as though I hadn’t interrupted, “…you and me… we gotta talk…”


I blinked, settling down as I paused to observe the unusually serious man before me. He sat on a chair opposite my cot, elbows resting on his knees as he leveled me with an unwavering stare. His tesla armor was still on, but his helmet was off for once, his face unflinching even as the electricity zapped millimeters from the scruffy, yet-to-be-shaved morning shadow he always had.


I felt a slow nervousness start from my fingertips and end at my toes. This was it. He may look calm now, but I knew this kind of calm. It was the kind he would lapse into right before we stormed into a huge battle. I must’ve upset him more than I thought.


I swallowed thickly in my suddenly dry throat. My mind tried running through all the scenarios and possibilities of how I must’ve pissed him off so badly.


“Look, Jericho…” I started slowly, running a hand through my hair. Even that motion sent me wincing, however, and I stopped in mid-movement and settled with fixing my gaze at the crumpled sheets over my knees, “Was it the cut? ‘Cause you know, I split it evenly in half. No cheats. I swear.”


“No, it wasn’t the cut…” He trailed off slowly, the resulting silence scratching at me worse than a Deathclaw on a good day.


The tent ruffled stiffly in the slight breeze. I could hear the constant drip of a nearby water source, each plop driving deeper into my skull. Even the sound of Dogmeat’s padding paws right outside the tent’s flap wore at my nerves. We sat there in that same silence for so long, that I felt my nervousness shift to frustration, then anger.


“Then what the hell is the problem, Jericho?” I snapped, tossing the blankets aside as I settled my bare feet on the ground, facing him. I barely winced as the action pulled at my healing wound, old scars flaring up, and clamoring for attention.


I was in my usual grey shorts and small white beater, since sleeping in armor was just a pain. Unless we were in hostile territory, then it was a necessary precaution. But I could hear the large, repetitive stomping outside, and since we weren’t dead yet, it must’ve been Fawkes on lookout duty.


Jericho’s normally narrowed eyes frowned even deeper, and he opened his mouth, looking to yell. But then he stopped himself, taking a closer look at me. Thoughtful, almost. Which was ridiculous, given the guy we were talking about. This was Jericho for cryin’ out loud! Ex-bandit, mercenary extraordinaire. I had even heard he broke Jenny Stahl’s bleeding little heart back at Megaton. Of course, I don’t know if the rumors of them sleeping together were true, but I wouldn’t be surprised either way.


“Fuck it. Just forget I said a goddamn thing, okay?” Jericho growled, standing.


“Wha…?” I trailed off, “You didn’t even say anything.”


“Exactly.” He replied smartly, before walking angrily towards me, “There is somethin’ that’s botherin’ me, though, that I need to get off a my chest.”


I stood to meet him, holding back a wince of pain as I did so, not about to cower or appear weak in any way. I shouldn’t have done it even when I was wounded. Cowering was a weakness. Weakness out here in the Wastes gets you killed. Even if it was by a mercenary you thought was your friend. I had heard enough horror stories to know to always watch your back. Not to mention I’d been stabbed in that same position enough to be wary.


I waited mutely for his question, returning the glare he was giving me as he stopped an arms-length in front of me.


“Why’d you run off and pick that mutie freak over me?”


My eyes widened a fraction. Well, that was unexpected. I should’ve known, though. Jericho wasn’t ever anything but blunt. I’m just not sure which surprised me the most, that he still regarded Fawkes by that term, or the fact that he even cared who I chose to brave the Wastelands with.


“I… didn’t.” I finally replied, realizing after a few moments that he was still waiting for an answer.


His eyes regarded me closely, narrowing even more, before he finally backed off with a snort, “Hn, I thought as much.”


“What’s that supposed to mean?” My frown returned tenfold as I watched him nonchalantly lighting a cigarette.


The end glowed a bright ember as he sucked in, a trail of smoke filtering through his nose as he blew out before he replied, “That you’re just as naïve and bright as when I bumped into you outside Moriarty’s. Leavin’ hired guns behind. Tryin’ ta get yourself good and killed out here in the Wastes by yourself. You haven’t learned anything. Out of the two of us, you chose to take the damn mutt! You realize how much we have to save his unthinking, smelly hide?”


“Hey!” I said indignantly, slugging him in the shoulder. Which, didn’t turn out to be such a good idea, since I ended up just hurting myself on his Tesla armor. Not to mention it jolted me a little as a quiet ‘ow’ escaped my lips. Ignoring the insignificant pain, I continued, my anger rising as I noted the way he was grinning and holding back a snort, “I’ll have you know I was doing just fine by myself before you or Dogmeat, or anyone else for that matter, came along! I don’t need a mercenary anymore. You’re fired!”


“Well ya can’t fire me, ‘cause I already fuckin’ quit.” He growled.


“Oh yeah, and when did this brilliant plan play itself out in your head?” I questioned dryly, rolling my eyes.


“Ever since you goddamn up and left me in that fuckin’ tent, Kid.”


“Oh yeah?” I started to say, but stopped short as his words penetrated the haze of anger that had gone over me. Blinking, I watched him take a few more hits on his cigarette before finishing lamely, “Oh.”


A sense of sadness washed over me as I realized what I had done. But I guess you had to reap what you sow. This is what I wanted anyways, right? Now that we were no longer contracted, Jericho was free to go as he pleases. So then… why did it bother me more than I thought it would?


“So…” I said slowly, staring at nowhere in particular as I slumped down onto the bed, finally wincing from the sore and healing pains, “I guess this is it, then… huh?”


Jericho threw me a look that asked if I was goddamn stupid or what. Instantly, I felt my hackles rise. At my reaction, he merely chuckled and shook his head, “You’re not gettin’ rid a me that easily, Kid.”


“What?” I demanded. I was so confused. Now more than ever.


“What, you think just ‘cause you ain’t payin’ me salary no more means I can’t travel the same goddamn route as you?” He asked gruffly, taking another, deeper hit before continuing, “Besides, you’re a fuckin’ lost case out here by yourself. Who do you think’s gonna watch your back, make sure you ain’t stepping on a fuckin’ mine or steel trap? The mutie? The Dog? Right.”


I couldn’t help the small spark of hope that fluttered inside me, but I suppressed the grin that wanted to get out as I tried to make my point, “Listen, Jericho. I already told I don’t need anyone or anybody, so-“


“No *you* listen, Kid.” He said sternly, leveling me once more with that unwavering glare, “Ain’t nobody tells me what I can and cannot do. I AM fuckin’ going with you kid, so you might as well goddamn deal with it, ‘cause that ain’t changin’. And, for fuck’s sake, you better think twice before skipping out on me in the middle of the night. You wanna leave? Fine. But make sure you’re lookin’ in my eyes and sayin’ it to my face first. Otherwise, there’s gonna be a whole lotta shit going down. I’m not gonna take thinkin’ you’re dead -a second time- so easily.”


I was stunned. No, beyond stunned. I was so surprised I didn’t have the slightest inclination towards anger at all. Behind all the cussing and tough words, his whole argument had boiled down to a single thing.


Jericho actually cared if I died.


Wow, that had to be the closest thing to him admitting the friendship that had formed between us. Heck, with all the shit we went through together, the only way we couldn’t bond was if we were both made of metal and tin. Although, at times, the mercenary did seem to fit that description pretty well.


He gave me a weird look as I just sat there, jaw dropped. After a few minutes of the same thing he shifted his weight to his other leg, his brow starting to furrow in worry.


“And another thing. Don’t EVER mention this to nobody, or I’m gonna rip out your tongue, got it Kid?” He growled, his demeanor relaxing a little bit once he had gotten that mean bit out of his system.


After I simply nodded my head, he grabbed his helmet from a broken down desk and stalked off. Just as he was exiting the tent, I could hear him mutter, “Fuck. Kid’s makin’ me soft…”


I couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at my lips then.

-o-o-o-

Jericho continued grumbling to himself as he stepped outside, not noticing the big shadow of the colossal being that had stopped right in front of him. It was only when he had almost ran into him that the mercenary jerked back, shooting a crooked glare up at the green-skinned Super mutant standing solemnly before him.


The big guy was easily almost twice the mercenary’s height and about three times his width, his clothes tattered and sewn together in a haphazard pattern. His lip was awkwardly stretched back into a perpetual, lopsided grin, though with his features it leaned more towards a snarl. It was a face that only a mother could love, and right now all its attention was honed on the hardened ex-raider.


Fawkes was easily 20 times stronger and could probably snap Jericho’s neck with his pinky if he wanted to. But the mercenary wasn’t ruffled. It wasn’t only because he was knowledgeable about this certain mutant’s behavior, but it was also because Jericho knew he could handle himself. He would have either his gun or his shiskebab out before the Super mutant could get anywhere near him in a menacing manner.


“Watcha want, mutie?” Jericho growled, spitting to the side.


Fawkes frowned a little at the name, but dismissed it as he continued, “I heard what was discussed inside the tent.”


“Ah, you’re a regular fuckin’ snoop, aren’t ya?” Jericho accused none-too-gently, his guard raising.


“Can’t help it. Mutation tuned my hearing.” Fawkes offered in explanation, not sounding sorry one bit as he continued, “I must pose a question, however.”


“Fire away.” Jericho sighed, walking a small distance from the tent as he replied.


He didn’t understand what the girl saw in the creature. Sure, he could talk prettier than the rest of ‘em. But that didn’t change his nature. Could be that the Super mutant could go beserk and kill ‘em all in their sleep. He didn’t need to risk her life more than necessary, especially if it’s just for a little Q&A session.


“Why do you wish to travel with her if your contract is null and void?” Fawkes contemplated aloud, his tattered clothes shifting as a dry breeze swept by.


“Those 1000 caps were shit pay compared to the profit that can be made out here.” Jericho replied, lighting up another one.


“That answer is not sufficient to the nature of my question.” Fawkes stated.


“Hey, I could ask you the same thing. What’s someone so high and mighty in the karma scale doing travelin’ with the fuckin’ Scourge of Humanity?” Jericho shot back, taking a vicious puff of his cancer stick, relishing the disapproving look it drove from the mutant, “Or haven’t you heard of all the deeds little miss Vault Kid’s been doin’?”


Fawkes, unfazed, looked far off into the distance, “Titles… are not truly noteworthy. And actions… they cannot be judged from actions alone, but only by deep thought on the meditations before the act.”


Raising a pistol towards the mutant, Jericho took a deep hit of his cigarette, exhaling as he replied, “I don’t believe in all that thought crap.”


The Super mutant didn’t even flinch as the mercenary fired off a round. Behind Fawkes’s big, muscled and bare feet, a radscorpion twitched, dead, on the ground. From this distance, Jericho would have shot himself if he had missed, since he had aimed for its weak spot, the stinger.


Jericho watched with dread as Fawkes’s mutated face lit up.


“Aww fuck, I’m gonna wish I had just let the goddamn thing rip your guts out, ain’t I?” Jericho muttered aloud, walking towards the dead exoskeleton as he cut into its entrails for the radscorpion gland.


“Do you see what I mean?” Fawkes said cheerily, “You could have let the beast attack me-“


“*Should* have.” Jericho corrected between the cigarette hanging from his teeth, his hands busy tearing into the carcass.


“- but you did not.” Fawkes continued, as though the mercenary hadn’t interjected anything, “Despite your character and your demeanor, you have chosen the path of good. If a soul as tainted as yours can be saved, so can hers.”


“Now hold on a doggone second.” Jericho paused from his work, raising a blood-soaked hand in the air as he explained, “Now I only killed the damn thing before it got to you so I wouldn’t get my ear chewed off by little miss sleepin’ beauty back in the tent. ‘Sides, all that ruckus would’ve just disturbed her resting.”


“You are not helping your case.” Fawkes stated matter-of-factly.


Frowning, Jericho glared up at the mutant, opened his mouth. Paused. Then closed it again. Instead of replying at all, Jericho simply ripped the gland out as gorily as possible, his narrowed gaze still fixated on Fawkes, before he just stood up and walked away.


“There is a reason you stayed, mercenary, and it is staring you right in the face.” The mutant said aloud, taking a step or two after the other.


Jericho jerked his hand up, a supplemental gesture to the harsh words that followed, “*Not*… another word. I ain’t never paid attention to preachers nor sermons since the day I was born, and I ain’t startin’ now.”


While the smile didn’t disappear from the mutant’s face, he followed the ex-raider with his eyes until he had gone out of sight.


Dogmeat panted, tongue hanging out, as he decided to rest at the Super mutant’s feet. Reaching past the bulky metal of his minigun, Fawkes gently patted the top of the dog’s head, “I see why you keep him around.”


Dogmeat barked happily in agreement.