Chapter Text
Day 1: Cough w/Chris Haversam - Fallout New Vegas
Chris looked up at the stars in the sky and started laughing, the deep gravelly sounds coming from every inch of him; in his opinion, irony was the best joke life could play. “Bet you didn’t think this would happen, did you, Jason?”
If he did, then he was more of an asshole than Chris had ever pegged the ghoul as. He sat outside, hoping, but not expecting an answer from someone two years gone.
The stars were silent. Some nights, when he came out here to talk to Jason, or the flock, there were little winks in the sky. He knew it wasn’t anything special. Just space doing what space did. But every once in a while, he liked to think it was the others communicating with him, sending messages with all the love they had held for him in their hearts.
“Is this the creator’s will as well?”
Because, what seemed to be too long ago, Chris had only thought he’d been a ghoul. He’d left his Vault, joined Jason’s community of the Bright Brotherhood, and had felt... At home. Welcomed, certainly, even if they still saw him as a smoothskin on the surface.
“Declared a Saint of the Great Journey, if you guys made it.”
Shaking fingers scrabbled for the battered, barely gold-plated flip lighter he carried on him, and it took a few smacks to get the last cigarette out of the nearly empty pack, but eventually victory was his. He placed it on his lips, shielded the lighter from the wind, and set the tip aglow. One deep drag later, and then there was a large plume of smoke vanishing into the air.
He laughed, the gravelly sounds echoing across the dusty desert roads. Time hadn’t taken him too far from the REPCONN test site. At first he’d gone back to his vault, but life in old 34 was deader than the radiation during lift off would have made him. Nothing but ferals there, and if there had been anything proving that he was still human, it had been them running at him, raspy screams waking him up in the dead of night when he tried to sleep.
“Suppose I was right all along,” he said, shaking his head and taking another pull from the cigarette. “I knew that vault reactor was going to be a problem.”
And about being a ghoul, too. The timeline had been a bit off, that’s it. A little under two years or so.
“Guess I don’t need to worry about my hair anymore.” That had been the first thing he’d checked, the one day Chris had felt strong enough to move after being horribly sick for several days. Gone to one of the buckets after a rare rainfall and peered in, expecting to see a middle-aged man with receding black hairline, slightly tanned skin, dark eyes, and a sparse mustache looking back. What he’d actually seen reflected was a surprised, burnt face with absolutely no hair whatsoever and no nose. That last one had been hard to deal with, but at the same time, he certainly didn’t miss the smell of his smokes.
He let out a raspy cough.
“I was human once, you know?” Chris could feel the sides of his lips flicker into a smile. “Grew up in Vault 34, thought I was a ghoul, joined the Bright Brotherhood, helped a community of ghouls fly rockets to the Far Beyond. Realized I was still human, thanks to a kind-hearted courier. And now... I’m actually a ghoul.”
Something flickered in him. He’d come out here miserable, hoping to find solace, but something else was happening, lighting up parts inside him he’d thought had burned out months ago.
“A ghoul with knowledge.”
And a place. He looked toward the REPCONN center, trying to dig back through years of memories to figure out if some rockets might still be there. How many had there been in the beginning? There had been the one that went a little sideways upon launch; that was hard to forget. And two others? Yes, three in total. And even if he didn’t know where Jason took everyone, the computers would have the trajectory. And he already knew how much fuel was needed.
“I’m a Saint, right?” He coughed again, the words feeling slightly strange, mostly because he’d only laughed at that title before… but today felt as if he was holding gold when yesterday and the days before had only seen pyrite. “And now that I’m a ghoul, I can talk to others. Gather my Brotherhood. Make our own rockets...”
Because the computers on site, they had to have the blueprints! And, even better, they probably had a few robots programmed to build things!
“I’ll have to go back and check to see what’s needed. There’s the rocket fuel, the igniting agent, and maybe a few ships, if there aren’t any which can be transferred to the launch pad.”
He sat up a little straighter, lost in thought even as more coughs burned deep in his throat.
“I don’t think I’ll be able to call my community the Bright Brotherhood,” he finally said, chuckling and taking another drag from the cigarette. “Jason was the only one of us who could lay claim to that name. The Novac Community Ghouls? The Radiant Brotherhood?”
That last title sounded good, though. Great, actually. Chris continued thinking about where he’d go looking for other ghouls like him first, then yelped as he felt something burn the top of his thigh. Batting a hand at the small fire his semi-forgotten cigarette started on his pants, it was thankfully put out within moments, letting all of those magical thoughts come racing back.
“But no one’s going to follow me.” He sighed, plopping down into his chair. “Let’s face it. I don’t have the charisma Jason had. It was his vision, and his belief that brought all of us together.”
Chris closed his eyes and realized that the future might not be planned out neatly for his convenience, but there were two ways this was going to go. First, he wasn’t sure where Cliff stood on the whole ghoul subject. The owner of Novac could kick him out or let him stay. If he had to leave, then he could probably move back to his old private room at the REPCONN site. And after that?
This time he coughed hard enough something slimy had to be spat to the side; Chris groaned.
“There have to be other ghouls in New Vegas other than the Bright Brotherhood. And even if they took every single ghoul with them, what about those like me, who changed after they left?”
There was no reason for him to check Nelson. What Caesar’s Legion did to mutants was already well known. Chris snorted. Hell, it wasn’t just non-humans. What the Legion did to non-Legion members… Nipton’s stories had been whispers of rumors first, tall tales to wither courage in a powerful person’s heart. That it was all fact made everyone not involved with Caesar give the man, and his followers, wary side eyes.
“I can send messages. See if there is anyone who’d like to come here and follow the Bright Brotherhood.” His foot tapped the ground. “They might not believe me. Probably won’t, or they’ll suspect something nasty, but I still trust in Jason’s dream. Telling them about that, showing them how I helped around here, and getting the rockets made. That should be enough.”
He looked back up at the stars, and this time he had to laugh.
“I guess I’ll be riding a rocket and joining up with everyone again. I’m sure this is something you didn’t see coming.” He rubbed his hairless scalp and laughter settled down into light chuckles, then an even lighter, raspy cough. “Neither did I, buddy, neither did I.”
Off in the distance there was the sound of howling, most likely a night stalker leading its pack to weak prey.
“Heh. That’ll be me soon enough. Sounding out the area, trying to help my companions.” Chris smiled. “So I hope you found the Far Beyond, and that it’s truly the place of light and healing that you were damn sure it was, because I’ve been waiting longer than anyone else to get there.”
He spent the rest of the evening tearing through his cigarettes, though he was careful not to let them set fire to his pants, and staring at the stars. Tomorrow, he’d talk to Cliff, see if he was starting a fresh life completely. Maybe it could be a requirement that any ghouls joining him and his Radiant Brotherhood had to buy some REPCONN souvenirs. That’d make Cliff giddy with glee, getting some of that surplus out and leaving him a lot more space for actual weapons… and it would start the collection of the Isotope-239 igniting agent he’d need for the new rockets easily enough.
Tomorrow, though. All that would start tomorrow.
Tonight was for catching up with old friends.