Fallout: Familiar faces 30

The road barely existed anymore up here; plants and tree roots had started to tear it apart, causing small buckles large enough to trip you over if you weren’t careful. Ash thought it was beautiful up here if nothing less. But beautiful often meant dangerous as well, at least in plant and animal life. So as much as she enjoyed the view, she had to keep an eye out as well. Dean paused now and then, as if lost in thought when watching certain trees or plants. Ash didn’t comment but paused as well when it happened; watching him quietly, wondering what was going on in his mind. Something nostalgic for sure; this was the closest to the world before the bombs she could picture herself. Way before the bombs, she figured, before the humans had really started to ruin the world. It was an interesting prospect really. Dean always started to walk again with a small grunt, as if cursing himself for allowing his mind to wander so much that he actively paused and had Ash wait for him.

By late afternoon the snow-covered mountains ahead of them seemed much larger than down in Vegas, naturally, but Ash always found it fascinating.

“It would be fun to one day wander up there,” she said, pointing towards the actual mountain. “To touch the sky once.” Dean followed her look before looking back at her, allowing himself an amused expression. That childish naïveté he had almost forgotten about her. It was long ago now that she had displayed it after all.

“And the humans used to fly up there, imagine that,” he said.

“I’d rather not. To sit in a metal machine in the air… no. At least on a mountain I’d still have my feet on solid ground.”

“Oh, you’d get over it…”

Ash didn’t reply because, looking at the road ahead of them she could now see something blocking it. Something large. She picked up her pace a bit until she saw it was several pine trees that had fallen across the road. The particular area was thick with trees and cliffs, making even going around the road a big hassle. She gestured for Dean to follow her, as she took off to the side instead, looking for a safer path through the terrain.

“I find it quite ironic that there are so many trees here that we can’t even get past them…” Dean noted drily behind her, before a small branch was slapped in his face; by mistake, judging by her quick apology.

“Ugh, nature…” Dean muttered under his breath, as they pushed past between the trees. A loud grunt abruptly stopped them as Ash glanced back at Dean.

“Was that you?” she asked, seemingly tense.

“No!” Dean huffed, before the grunt came again, followed by the sound of cracking twigs. Something large was moving nearby, heading towards them and Ash sped up as much as she could.

“Move it! It’s a bighorner,” she warned Dean. Most likely a bull one inspecting the noise they were creating and she’d rather not end up fighting that thing in this forest. They made some distance, before Ash suddenly disappeared from Dean’s view, followed by a long thud.

“Ash?” he called out, confused, as he hurried up to her spot, only to end up almost falling backwards when he realized there was a steep slope by his feet. He leant over the edge of the sloping cliff side, looking down it until he could spot Ash furthest down. She was lying still among the rubble, pebbles still rolling down on her.

“Bloody hell…” Dean spat between his teeth, looking over his shoulder. The bighorner had moved on by now, apparently finding them to not be a threat worth dealing with.

Dean carefully climbed over the edge before sliding down the hill. The fact he was conscious meant he could avoid the sharper bits, something he had a feeling Ash hadn’t managed. He stopped short next to her, before heading over and turning her over to her back. He winced at the blood in her face, coming from several cuts.

“Brilliant,” he muttered to himself. He knew enough about wounds to know that they needed a closer look, but hardly out here. He sat her up against one of the larger rocks, before checking her bag. His guess was correct, as he fished up a long piece of cloth. Ash always came prepared, probably more prepared than she had thought she needed to be this time. With a quick look around, he proceeded to wrap it around her head, until he felt it wouldn’t fall off easily at least.

It was quiet around them except for the sound of the wind blowing in the trees. Dean had never approved of silence like this; it almost seemed like a bad sign. Besides, he still remembered very well the fright of silence replaced by suddenly breathing ghost people. To be frank, he felt rather vulnerable out here, and now he had an unconscious woman to deal with too.

“Ash, wake up,” he huffed at her, giving her a light slap in the face. There was no reaction whatsoever and the ghoul, if possible, made an even more annoyed sound. He grabbed hold of her arm and the pip-boy there, checking the map. According to it, they weren’t that far away from Jacobstown but it was still 30 minutes or so of traveling there. And it was getting dangerously close to evening.

“Wake up, or I am damn well leaving you here to rot,” Dean continued towards Ash, although he was rummaging through her bag again. He found a stim pack that he quickly injected into her arm, looking at her face for any signs of the effects. It probably wouldn’t heal such a deep cut but it might wake her up at least. When her eyes fluttered opened, he sighed, looking around them again.

“Good, you’re awake. Seems you live another day,” he said somewhat unhelpfully, as her hand went up to her head, rubbing it with a grimace. She frowned at the cloth when she put it back down, before looking at Dean. She looked unfocused, not to say quite dizzy.

“For heaven’s sake, get a grip, woman,” Dean chided her, feeling the rush of wanting to get somewhere safe before it went completely dark. The sun was already settling behind the mountains. Ash got up gingerly, at the same time as Dean and he reached out to steady her subconsciously really. He then picked up her bag, lifting her pip boy with his free hand.

“It’s not far, you can faint again when we’re there,” he said almost jokingly. He moved ahead, aware that she was following him although a bit more slowly. He hadn’t felt this nervous since… since Goodsprings, when he had basically handed her over to Bill. Question was, was he more nervous about his own safety or hers. At the moment she couldn’t defend either of them, let alone herself, the way she was staggering behind him. Stim packs didn’t exactly remove the pain after all, and he had found no med-x in her bag.

The next 30 minutes went in absolute silence, Dean mostly stifling urges to rush ahead in hope that Ash would speed up. The girl couldn’t have better timing as she collapsed when they were within sight of Jacobstown. It was what Dean assumed anyway because in the approaching darkness, he was sure he had seen the sign that said so. He did groan at her collapse, but went to her side anyway, trying to drag her back up when he heard unusually heavy footsteps coming towards them. He looked up, eyes growing wide behind the sunglasses, upon seeing the two super mutants heading towards them. One of them had their weapon lifted, the other looked more calm, which was a strange word to even use for a mutant.

“What’s going on here?” the calmer one asked, as Dean had let go of Ash again, his hand reaching inside his jacket for the pistol, whatever good that’d do against those two giants.

“Don’t even try, buddy,” the armed mutant huffed. “Besides, you don’t look like a match to us anyway.”

“Shows what you know,” Dean replied in his usual bravado. His best experience with mutants had been God or Dog; whatever the mutant in the Sierra Madre had called himself and that was little and none too positive experience to start with. Just another thing to add on his list of things to be annoyed at with now, too much was happening in too short time now and he wasn’t even sure how to deal with it. Let alone to deal with the need to protect both himself and the girl, against super mutants!

“Not all come here to pick a fight,” the first one said, as he walked up to Dean and Ash, though his focus was mostly on Ash. Even if Dean did pull a gun on him, at this range, the mutant would easily be able to literally swat the ghoul away. Dean decided not to risk having his own back broken and barely cause a dent on the mutant in the process… it wasn’t exactly what he called a fair pay off.

“It’s Ash,” the mutant looking at the woman said, before he looked at Dean. “She’s injured,” he stated almost as if he was about to blame the ghoul for it.

“Oh, don’t give me that look!” Dean spat out, irritated. “She got herself injured on our way here, not my fault.” He paused, realizing something suddenly. “You know her?” he asked before groaning. “Stupid question, the girl seems to know everyone!”

“Ash helped us out a bit,” the mutant explained, as he picked her up in his arms, making her look tiny by comparison. “Henry will be able to patch her up well enough. As for you ghoul, I’d keep that weapon holstered here. The Nightkin are nervous, even if you ghouls are generally more accepted than the humans.”

“Sounds like a charming place…” Dean muttered, but he followed the two mutants back inside the ski resort; a place looking nothing like its former glory, he was sure. It was dark to boot, a few nightkin looking in their direction, especially Dean’s.

“What is it now, Marcus?  I have little time for interruptions!” the human, annoyed voice came from the room they walked into. The mutant holding Ash, merely grunted in reply before putting her down on one of the beds.

“I’m sorry, doctor, but someone needs your help,” Marcus said, turning away from the bed. Dean stood in the doorway, arms folded across his chest and tense like a bowstring, not sure which thought in his head to act on. No one noticed him! He was sure if they had known his actual name, they’d bother a bit more… but it could wait until after Ash had got some help, even if he was reluctant to do so.

“I’ve told you a few times now; I’m not that kind of doctor!” Henry scoffed, as he crossed the table filled with bottles and other science related items, to head over to the bed.

“Oh, it’s her…” he said coolly, as Dean rolled his eyes, lifting his hands up in frustration. Henry tipped Ash’s head to the sides before snorting.

“Small cuts, concussion at most maybe,” he said. “Nothing a doctor’s bag can’t fix. She’s been through worse.” He wandered off again, behind the shelves, tables and boxes, before returning with the bag he needed. As Henry tended to Ash, Marcus turned around towards Dean who barely gave him a look in return.

“Who are you?” the mutant asked. “I don’t recognize you as one of Ash’s traveling companions.”

“I’m glad that you asked,” Dean said drily. “Dean Domino and I’m a new traveling companion to the apparently famous Ash.”

“Domino… you’re on the posters,” Marcus said slowly, as if searching his memory. “Yes… from what I can recall you’ve clearly kept your attitude over the years.”

“What’s that supposed to mean!?” Dean asked sharply, his eyes narrowing behind the glasses. “I was one of the best, I’ll have you know.”

“Of that I am certain. Perhaps I was too hasty. Since you’re traveling with Ash, you must have some redeeming qualities.”

Dean was almost seething loudly by now. Clearly, he was the only intelligent one to have survived the bombs! Talking to this… beast was like talking to a critic and that was one thing he did not miss!

“I do…” he said, the ice in his tone cold enough to remove the warmth in the room. “Now, as to my real purpose here, am I allowed to take a look around?” he frowned. “I’ve heard this is an old place, perhaps I can find something related to myself here…”

“Be my guest,” Marcus shrugged. “But if you steal something, it’s on your head. Ash is in good hands meanwhile.”

“Good.” With that Dean turned around, refusing to waste more of his breath on that oaf.

******


It was later that evening he came back to the doctor’s room, looking more disturbed than he had in some time, disgusted almost. Looking through a place where mutants lived wasn’t something he was going to do again. Ever. Ash was seemingly sleeping on the bed where Henry had left her; her coat removed and neatly folded on a chair next to her. The man himself was in the other end of the room, his focus back into whatever he was working with. He did throw a quick impatient glare towards Dean who returned it over the brim of his glasses, too annoyed with everything and everyone right now to bother hiding his frustration.

The only one he could even have a tolerable conversation with was knocked out cold, as he sat down next to her bed, not only annoyed but also… tired. Tired of many things. And bored. Very bored.

“Blast it, Ash, wake up already,” he muttered, rubbing his forehead.

“You can mutter all you want, she’s probably not coming to the nearest hours,” Henry called out from his position and Dean looked at him under the hand, wondering why the hell the doctor was even talking to him for.

“Why not?” he asked, despite himself.

“She’s running a fever.”

Dean frowned, moving a bit to place his hand on Ash’s forehead instead, while Henry walked over to him. Her skin was hot to the touch, pale as well, now that he looked closer.

“Concussions don’t cause fevers, do they?” Dean asked, further annoyed now but for more personal reasons this time.

“Not what I know of. I could need to hear what happened before I can fully tell why she’s running a fever all of the sudden,” Henry shrugged. “She’s got some amount of bruises and cuts as well.”

“We rushed through the forest and then she fell down a cliff side,” Dean shrugged in reply. “Not a steep fall, nor high, but she was unconscious when I reached her.”

“Hm. Into the forest, you said? No doubt through the foliage as well then.”

“Obviously.”

“It’s possible she’s been poisoned by something then or having an allergic reaction to a plant…”

“What…? Are you crazy? The girl’s been shot in the head, in the legs and probably in numerous other places, not to say survived deathclaws and ghost people attacks! Are you telling me that a plant is causing her to fall apart now?”

“It’s a reasonable guess considering the fever. And again, I am not a doctor! I know how to treat basic wounds and use medical supplies, that’s all. I’ve done what I can for her now… you can use the spare bed if you want to remain here, as long as you don’t bother me.”

Henry walked away again to resume his work, Dean glaring after him. He wasn’t sure he bought the other man’s explanation. It sounded ridiculous that a poisonous plant or allergic reaction would take Ash down like that. He sighed, leaving her side to go and remove his own coat and throw it over the bed he could use. The least he could do was to try and get some sleep, he figured as he lied down.

*****


Sleep hadn’t come easily and once it did, he was soon woken up again by… voices he was sure. He was about to tell the people off for talking when he realized the room was near pitch black. Assuming he had gone insane now, he sat up abruptly to switch the nearest lamp on; surprised he didn’t stumble to the floor in the process. The door to the room was shut and there was no sign of Henry. It did seem to be in the middle of the night though so perhaps not so strange. The muttering came again and now he realized it came from Ash, who was twitching a little where she lied.

Dean said her name as he approached her, wondering if she was awake but he quickly realized she wasn’t. As in fact she seemed to be dreaming, something unpleasant to boot. He shook her shoulder a little with no result before touching her forehead. Still burning, so perhaps it was a fever dream then. The ghoul grumbled something under his breath, for some reason feeling bothered by the fact.

He sat down on the chair next to her bed, lightning a cigarette in frustration; perhaps not the best move near Ash but he needed it right now. Fairly soon he was humming to himself, a word or two slipping out in some old song going through his head. It was relaxing for him at least but he could swear Ash had stopped twitching too. He reached out, placing his hand on her shoulder to make sure, arching an eyebrow.

“Well, you always wanted me to sing,” he snorted afterwards, as he continued to hum and half sing in the faint light, as much for his own sake as hers.