Good People (Platonic)
Summary: While in the Wasteland, running on nothing but fumes and even less hope, you meet someone. Someone who might just be the one thing you need in a place like this: a friend.
Note: This is shorter than my usual stuff (both in terms of words, probably, and also just in terms of content - more so a scene than anything else; maybe a series of short scenes showing Lucy's arc if you guys want and how her friendship with Y/N develops?) Let me know in an ask!
You were a survivor. You had been since the moment you were born, but you weren't sure how much longer that was going to last.
Your day hadn't started off good, you see. You were running out of water and had passed out earlier due to some kind of infection - no idea what it was or who/what it was from, you had come across a lot of beings and things in your travels - and some guy had thought you were dead and even pissed on you just in case. Was not refreshing, or nice.
You had fought him off, tackling him to the floor and punching him quite a few times. You didn't kill him, however. You just left him be after that.
An odd fellow with a briefcase who promise you everything you could ever want passed you by. He gave you something that gave you a boost. You had no caps, so the only piece of fluid you had left on you - your water container - was given to him in exchange for this item.
So, now you were even more screwed then before.
The man even seemed to somewhat pity you, but he still left.
You find an abandoned bus. It's been picked, recently or otherwise doesn't really matter, picked clean is picked clean. Or, well, as clean as you can get within the apocalypse.
"Hello?" a voice says. You spin around, reaching for a weapon you don't have as you lost it in the scuffle before, and so instead duck down - hitting your head on one of the seats.
You hear the person outside cringe.
"Sorry," she says, earnestly to your shock, "that sounded like it hurt."
"...It did," you find yourself saying in reply, but still keep your head done.
"Sorry," she says, again, "it's ok," she assures you, "I won't hurt you. I promise."
You peak your head up. The first thing you notice, is how clean she looks. She gives you a bright smile.
"Hi," she says, enthusiastically.
You just blink at her.
"It's ok," she assures again, "my weapon is away. I just - I just wanna talk. I'm a bit lost out here give, you know, everything is mainly just sand."
You guess that's fair. So, against your better judgment, you make your way to the stairs at the bus, and sit down. The woman sits down, letting out a sigh, glad to be able to rest for a moment.
She stretches. You adjust your neck. You must've slept funny.
"I'm Lucy," she says, holding out a hand to you.
"Y/N," you say, shaking her hand. Feels weird, being this open with someone.
"Y/N," she says, "that's a nice name. I never knew someone called Y/N before."
You're about to ask her why, when you see what she's wearing.
You whistle, or as best you can with a dry throat, it's croaky but the idea comes through, "you one of them Vault Dwellers?"
"I am," she says, and you're unsure if it's a proud statement or not, "but, I do also recognise my privilege for being one."
You hum, "how you finding up here?"
"Hot," she says, "we have air conditioning in the vaults. So, it's weird not being able to just turn down the temperature."
You chuckle. She smiles.
"Thank you for not trying to kill me."
You gesture to yourself, "don't exactly have anything to do that with, you know? Besides, you're not a bad person. I've met some bad people, you ain't one of them."
"Thank you. I knew there were good people out here."
You shrug, "I don't think I'm exactly 'good', but I've known worse."
"Well, I'm glad I've run into you. You're alot nicer than the previous man I met."
"Yeah, there'll be people like that..." you pause, then ask the question on your mind, "what brings you top side, Lucy?"
"Oh," there's a hint of hope, mixed with sadness in her eyes while she answers, "I'm looking for my dad. Some horrible woman called Moldaver took him. She steals dads."
You may internally find that last part funny, but you find yourself saying 'I'm sorry' to her about her plight. She thanks you once again.
"You're not crazy like that other man."
She's blunt, you'll give her that.
"I can be," you don't quite know why you're insulted by it.
She cocks her head to the side, "I'm good at reading people," you aren’t sure on that one, but you don't say anything, "and you're not like that previous man."
"What'd he do?"
"Drank most of my water. You ever met anyone like that?"
"Guy pissed on me this morning. Another stole my canteen."
"Oh..." Lucy says. You nod, expecting this to be the end of your conversion, but then she reaches behind herself for something. Instinct makes you freeze, but she just gives you a reassuring smile once again, and holds something out to you.
Her own canteen.
You look at her, doubt, confusion, and thanks all in your eyes at once.
"Take it," she insists, shaking it a little to tell you that there is still water inside it, "I mean it."
"But, that other man --"
"He's greedy. You aren't. And, judging by your lips, rough voice, inability to whistle, and slight grovel to your voice, and the way you hold yourself," perceptive too, "you need this more than I do."
"You sure?" she nods. Hesitantly, looking from her to the canteen as you reach out - her leaning forward to help you with your lack of energy due to dehydration and all - you grab it. It's not harsh, you don't rip it out of her grasp. Your actions are slow, deliberate.
You open it, and lift it up to your mouth, letting a few water droplets hit it.
You close it and give it back to her. But she pushes it to you again. This goes on a few more times.
"I meant what I said," she says, "take it."
You look around at the desert, "next water well won't be for a while."
She shrugs, "there's a town nearby. There should be some there. But, either way, you need this a lot more than I do."
You drink the rest of it. And, you feel ok. Not great, but better.
You cough a bit. Both due to whatever illness you have, and just from the water and how fast you drank it.
"That's a bad cough," she notes, taking the canteen back.
"Ah, it's nothing," you say, waving her off. Had worse infections.
You stand up, and she holds her hands out in case you fall. You put a hand up, telling her you're ok.
"Well," you say, "thank you for that, and the talk. Good people are few and far between. Best of luck --"
"Hey, wait!" she calls out as you start to walk away, "wait, please. Maybe - maybe you can help me."
"I ain't exactly much help given the lack of weapons, strength, and my illness."
She frowns, "well, once we find my dad, we can go back to my vault, we have doctors there who can help you and give you a good meal!"
She's preppy, but soon that softens in her eyes, "please...I can stop people from...urinating on you."
You snort at her disgust of the language. She has a lot to learn. Social ettiquite may exist in some places in the wasteland, but not everywhere.
"Well, when you put it like that..." you say, before smiling. She beams at you.
"Okey Dokey!" she exclaims.
"Okey Dokey!" you find yourself saying in kind, not mocking for once - you and your mouth had gotten you into trouble before, it was nice to not have some agenda with it this time. To let your guard down.
"Have you ever been to Filly before?" she asks you as you walk side by side. Though, she slows up a bit as you try and both get your strength back and keep your remaining bit.
"Once or twice when passing through," you say.
"Alrighty then," she says, glad to not be going in completely blind, "'this is going to be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.'" she says to you, clearly quoting something, based on her voice. You look at her confused.
"I'll show you the film when we're back at the vault," she says, before you continue on your way.
It's good to meet someone who didn't want to kill you on sight or extort you or something.
It was nice to not be alone anymore.
Lucy feels the same way. She has a sort of guide now. A friend.
An actual friend from the outside.
She's glad.
And, little did she know how right she'd be. It would be a friendship that would stand the test of time and everything in between.
Lucy had just met her best friend.
You had met yours.
Even if you both didn't know just how dark and dangerous the road ahead would get...
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