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Falling Out and Falling In

Part 3

for NerubianKnight

by Draconicon

Helmrick groaned as he forced himself to take another sip of water. It stung going down, and his stomach rolled and revolted against anything new going in, but he kept swallowing, hoping that this one would stay where he was putting it. The heat of the radiation in the dirty water wasn't making that any easier, and the griffon curled up in a ball as soon as his mouth was clear.

"Nnngh..."

Everything hurt to some degree, and his insides were probably worse than his outsides. The Enclave lab coat that he'd absconded with kept the worst of the radiation from affecting him, keeping the ambient particles off his fur and flesh to a large degree, but it wasn't perfect. His paws felt like they were pressed too close to a fire, constantly feeling slightly singed and reminding him of how much walking was going to hurt if they had to run. He curled up a little tighter beneath the lab coat, treating it as a blanket as he rested his head against the half-rotted pillows of the motel.

He kept telling himself that this was better than some of the alternatives, but it had been three days, and he still felt like he was going through some sort of horrible torture. Everything he ate had some sort of radioactive effect on him, and his guts weren't protected the way that his flesh, fur, and feathers were. For the first time in his life, he was getting a real education on how the people of the Wasteland had to live without the scrubbers and purifiers that the Enclave made use of.

It was hell. It was nothing less than hell.

"Mmmph..."

Swallowing one more time to keep his stomach from revolting and forcing the water up, the griffon rolled onto his side, staring out the window. One of the highways leading out the Capital lay right beside the hotel. The waters of the Chesapeake were just out of sight, but he knew that it was out there. From the second-story window of the motel room, they could just barely make out all the possible ways north, and anyone that might be traveling on it.

Someone had to come eventually, he was sure. Someone that could confirm whether the stories of the Carolinas were true or not.

The Enclave's databases had said that there was something going on down there, but the information was spotty, not quite filled out the way that most researchers would have preferred. Certainly not enough to give him a clear picture of what they'd face if they went down the road to the southern states. If there was something down there - some civilization that still functioned, or even the start of some real settlements rather than the rag-tag bands of people that had taken some still-standing structures and made them work - then that was an escape route for them. If there wasn't...

His guts rolled again, and he groaned. He was already in hell. He didn't want to dip down another metaphorical circle into a worse realm of it by leaving what little civilization that the Capital Wasteland had behind in exchange for absolutely nothing.

As he forced himself to keep breathing and as his stomach slowly settled around the 'meal' of water, the low-level thumping from a few rooms down finally quieted. That would mean that Axel and Gruth were no longer going at it, which meant that one or the other would probably show up before long for a short visit. He groaned under his breath, trying to pull himself together and feel a little less pathetic.

He was right. The door opened and the capybara poked his head around the corner. Helmrick met his eyes with a level glare.

"Well, you're still with us," Axel said, smiling slightly. "Glad to see that."

"Why? You barely know me," Helmrick groaned. "Is this how it feels for you all the time?"

"Well, at first. It gets better. Usually takes about a week. If it makes you feel any better, you're handling it better than some of the guys I've seen."

"If this is better, I don't want to know how bad they got it."

"You know how you're throwing up all the time?"

"Mmm-hmm?"

"They were leaking from both ends."

"Ugh."

"And worse fevers and other symptoms." Axel shook his head. "Only way to get used to this is to hit yourself with enough rads to get acclimated quickly without going over the line, and that's a hard thing to do. But, uh, looks like you're managing."

The image of this being even worse was too much. The griffon felt his stomach clench tight, and he knew that he had only a few seconds before the latest batch of water would be all over the floor. Hand over his beak, he ran for the broken bathroom and dropped to his knees.

"...Well, mostly," Axel said.

Comforted by the capybara as he heaved up the bits of water that he'd managed to get down, he relaxed enough to be dragged back to bed afterward. Rather than lying down, he sat up. There was nothing in his stomach that could come up, and the dry heaves that occasionally seized him weren't so bad as the wet ones. As he breathed slowly, Axel rubbed his back. The contact helped, at least a little bit.

"It'll pass. I'd say that you'll probably feel better in another day or two."

"Ugh...if I last that long."

"You're still here. I think you'll be alright." Axel chuckled. "And it'll be nice to have someone else to talk to on the road, let me tell you that. Gruth's good company in bed -"

"I heard."

"Heh, well, he's not exactly quiet with what he does. You know, you could come by if you were feeling up to it. The show might be a good distraction for you."

It had crossed his mind more than once during his periods of minor nausea. It would have been rather interesting to see how that sort of size difference worked out between two people, and what sort of lubrication was required to keep it all moving at a good clip, rather than having to slow down and adjust every few thrusts. And it would have been something to engage him on something other than a scientific level, as well, considering his lack of entertainment and distractions in his hotel room.

Yet, every time he'd thought about it seriously, his stomach had eventually decided that he needed to rest rather than engage himself with a show. This was not much different.

As he hugged his belly, the capybara kept rubbing his back. Helmrick turned, looking the mercenary in the eye.

"Why are you...helping me?"

"Well, you helped me. And Gruth. That matters to me, you know."

"Uh-huh. And?"

"Well, we're all going in the same direction, and the Enclave might be after us. Like you said last night, you know the Enclave, so, might as well work as hard as I can to keep you alive. And who knows? Maybe you have some other talents that'll come in handy when you're not puking your guts out."

When, not if. If only the griffon had that sort of confidence that his body wasn't going to just burn itself out with all the irradiated water that he was chugging.

But he had hope. That was something. And he was useful, which was something more. They wouldn't just drop him as long as he could keep that usefulness up. Axel was a mercenary, and one that was still alive, which meant that he had to have a few pragmatic bones in his body; he wouldn't just drop the brightest brain that he could get just because this sickness went on for a couple of days. And the capybara owed him to an extent, and that was a debt that he could play off for a little while.

Not too long. It would run out eventually, but for a little while.

"Thank you," Helmrick said, shaking his head. "For that...and the back rub."

"No problem. Want to lie down again?"

"In a minute. If you don't mind...I have questions."

"Shoot."

"Where did you two come from?"

"Not that far south of here, honestly. We both came out of Virginia, though me further south than him," the capybara said. "Gruth never did tell me where the collar he got came from. I always assumed Enclave, but -"

"Not our tech," Helmrick said, shaking his head. "Or at least, not the kind that we had at our base. Easy enough to adapt, though. And might have been a little more advanced than what we had."

"Well, wherever he got it, he doesn't mind it. Hell, pretty sure that he likes someone taking control, sometimes. You ever try it?"

"...I'm surprised that he didn't tell you. He was used for various purposes in the lab before we set up our little escape. Bondage, slit-fucking, and milking, for the most part."

"Oh, he would have loved that last one. Heh. Let me tell you, if you ever want to get him going, just take control and use him. Hard. It's just about his favorite thing. And if you need him to top, just make sure that you use the word 'breeding.' There's something in that Deathclaw that absolutely loves that kind of thing. Couldn't tell you what - always preferred men, myself - but he just can't get enough of any hole when he's the one that has to 'breed' it."

"...I'm a top."

"Fair, fair." The capybara nodded. "Anyway, back to the other thing. I came from a...guess you'd call it a Vault, even though the whole thing kinda collapsed in on itself some time back. Some old systems still worked, but most of it had gone to hell. Military traditions stuck around, door wide open, that kind of thing."

"Explains your skill with weapons."

"Well, you don't last long out there without some, even with a Deathclaw helping you out. But thanks, glad you noticed."

"Hard to miss."

"Heh, you're barely staying awake, aren't you?"

"Pretty much."

"Get some rest. I'll check on you again later tonight."

The capybara helped him back to a horizontal position, tucking his coat around him once more. The tingling radiation effects that had been slipping past the lab coat faded, and he realized just how tired he really was. His eyes were closed before the capybara walked out of the room, and he was out cold before the door's soft click as it closed could reach his ears.

#

One day later, he was able to keep solid food down. Two days later, and he was able to move around on his own without throwing up. The time to leave the motel was fast approaching, and they all knew it. The only thing keeping them there was a lack of information and decision of where to go next, and deep down, Helmrick knew that the other two were waiting to see what he'd decide.

Somehow, he'd become the decision-maker on that particular issue. Maybe it was the fact that he was Enclave and they were just a pair of mercs, but that seemed to fit wrong with him. Maybe they just wanted to see what he'd decide, and then take the opposite route, because they weren't trusting him yet. Or maybe it was something else.

He knew that it was paranoia borne out of sickness that was playing with his brain, but that didn't mean that it was any less annoying.

Late in the afternoon on the day he got his mobility back, there was a knock at his door. He looked up from the papers that he'd managed to secrete from the Enclave on the day of his escape and walked over, pulling the deadbolt. Axel was at the door.

"Yes?"

"Gruth found someone."

"Someone?"

"A trader, from the south."

There was just enough excitement in the other male's voice to tell him that it was time. Today would be the day that he'd have to make a decision. Considering that they'd already waited five days for him to fully recover, he supposed they had reached the point of 'now or never.' Much as he would have wished to have a little more time, they had to push forward.

"Let's talk to him, then."

"Gruth is bringing him to the parking lot. He's very persuasive."

"Indeed..."

Shaking his head, he pulled his lab coat around clothes that felt dirtier than he wanted to admit. There was no clean water to wash them out here, and he hadn't quite reached the point where he wanted to dip them into the irradiated drinking material that they were working with. He'd compromised by going naked in his room most of the time, just keeping the coat on as a means of keeping the radiation off, and only wearing his other clothes when he really had to. The result was a slow-rising musk in his attire that he did his best to play off.

Of course, he altered that a little; one of the things that he had gained from his time in the Enclave was a small implant that allowed him to control what sort of pheromones and scents that he put out. It was mostly used as a means of persuading other people to do what he wanted or - in the case of some experiments - using it to ensure that they were 'in the mood' for the things that he wanted to do. Over the last five days, he'd mostly focused on just 'sweating clean', so that he didn't stink things up too much, but that was as far as he had been able to focus on it.

Now, though...

Let's see if we need anything. Don't want to run my body chemistry down too much while I'm still recovering.

They walked around the ruined motel balcony, circling back to the spiral staircase that led down to the ground floor. Looking down at the parking lot, he could just make out a small cluster of brahmin being led along by a pigeon, and the pigeon, in turn, was being led and almost herded by Gruth across the ancient, pockmarked pavement. It almost felt a little silly to look down at something like that, and he shook his head as a small, helpless giggle tried to escape his chest. No time for that; it'd probably turn into something more hysterical if it got free.

The pigeon looked like someone that mixed trade with fighting, considering that he wore a large metal chestpiece and had a gun-belt slapped across his hips. Combined with the many packs across the brahmin in his little caravan, it was clear that he had traveled for a while and had a little experience, but clearly not enough to try chancing a fight with a Deathclaw.

As soon as the bird saw him and Axel, though, the caution on the avian's beak flicked away, replaced with a broad grin at the corners of the hard material. He waved a hand through the air, his wings along his back flicking behind him.

"Sirs, gentlemen, good to see you! I am so pleased to find other people in this Wasteland. Tell me, what news of the north?"

"It's heating up; Brotherhood and Enclave sound like they're about to go head to head," Axel said before Helmrick could answer. "You been listening to your radio?"

"Ah, I do not have the privilege of owning a Pip-Boy, good sir," the pigeon said, shaking his head. "But if war is in the offing, then I'll have to keep my head to the ground and my wings ready."

"Can you even fly?" Helmrick asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Ah, ahem, that is - that is perhaps a rude question, sir," the merchant said, shaking his head and fiddling with one of the straps and knobs along his chestpiece. "To ask if one's wings are functional -"

Axel elbowed him - and not at all surreptitiously - and Helmrick muttered an apology. The pigeon took it and ran with it, sitting down by one of his brahmin as Gruth took up a post just behind the small herd.

"Come, come. I think we can talk business as much as we talk about anything else. The name's Harvey," the bird said. "Harvey, hailing from the south and looking for new markets. I don't suppose that the three of you are buying today? Come, come, surely you have some interest in what I have?"

"...Maybe a little, but we're mostly looking for information," Axel said.

They weren't looking for goods at all, as far as Helmrick had been aware. He arched an eyebrow, glancing back at the capybara, and -

Wait.

The griffon sniffed the air quietly, tilting his head slightly to the side. There was something there, something just under the burning ozone-y smell of the radiation around them. It wasn't exactly as stealthy a scent as some of the things that the Enclave had used, but there was some scent work in the air. Someone else was playing with pheromones, it seemed, and it wasn't him this time.

"Come, sit. Let's talk business. A trade for a trade, perhaps? You must have many things that you need, hiding out here. It can't have much left, after so many years of being picked clean. Let's -"

"We already told you what you're walking into," Helmrick said, interrupting the spiel. "You can answer a couple of questions without a trade first."

The gray-feathered bird blinked at his interruption. More evidence, as if he needed it, that Harvey wasn't expecting anyone to be questioning him. This was something that he'd clearly done before. He fiddled with the chestpiece again, his actions nervous and antsy, clearly the sort of behavior of someone that was not used to other people...

Unless one knew what to look for.

The chestpiece's the control device, which means that he's got something else on him - or on the brahmin - that's putting the scent in the air, Helmrick thought, eyes flicking between the different packs. One of the leather satchels on the brahmin at the back was flicked half-open, and he was almost sure that he saw a small receiver wire sticking out of it. Probably receiving commands from the chestpiece, now that he thought about it. The chunky metal that the bird wore was probably filled with all sorts of circuitry.

Bad design, though, unless the device had been broken in two by the pigeon or by time itself; splitting the two pieces apart meant less overall control.

"Sir, please, I am a merchant. I have many things to sell; surely you can buy one or two before we start talking about -"

"I want to know what lies to the south."

"Yeah...yeah, that was kind of the point, wasn't it?" Axel muttered, rubbing the back of his head. "How the hell..."

"Sirs, please. I - I swear, you could use some of what I have. Or - actually, perhaps it might be -"

"Gruth. The last brahmin," Helmrick said.

"Mmph."

"W-wait, don't -"

Gruth obeyed quicker than the griffon had expected. Rather than slashing open the brahmin itself, the two-headed cow was spared. The leather straps that held the pack to the beast, however, were not; they were cut clean instantly, and the packs fell to the ground -

Crack.

The machine that had been spewing pheromones in the air broke, and the smell changed, turning bitter and smoky. Axel blinked and shook his head, his eyes narrowing at the pigeon.

"You son of a bitch."

"I - it was merely a way to keep myself safe, I assure you," Harvey said, getting to his feet and taking a step back. "Please, please, I'm not - it's nothing serious. Nobody was hurt, right?"

"Yeah? And how many caps were you going to bilk us out of before you headed off and that shit wore off, huh?" the capybara growled, one hand going for his many weapons over his shoulder. "Would you have even sold anything, or just told us that there was some cache out there to check before taking all our caps and running off into the sunset? What the hell is -"

"It is an understandable business practice," Helmrick said, shaking his head as the air cleared. "And there's some sense in it. Not much, but some. And now, Harvey. I believe that we are owed some answers, if you want to keep your head?"

His calm and cold was at least as much a smokescreen for the relief he felt as it was for how he actually felt. The fact that the pheromone device had been as crude as it had been was the only reason that he had managed to pick up on its existence. If it had been integrated into the pigeon's chestpiece rather than separate, if the scent hadn't been so obnoxiously thick, then he might have actually missed the key clues that were floating through the air, or dismissed them as just part of the pall that hung over everything around him.

But at least it was something else that made him look useful, and something more that added to the general reason to keep him around. He wanted to keep that list as long as possible. The more that he did to display Axel as the hired gun and Gruth as the hired muscle, and the more that kept him as the brains of the operation that would keep them alive, the better. He wanted that control. He needed that control.

"Now...I would say that this 'business' has turned. You owe us answers to keep Axel's guns in their holsters, and then, if you give us enough of them, we'll send you on your way. Does that sound fair, merchant?"

"...I...I think that sounds very fair, yes. Yes. I think that's very fair."

"First. Where did you get that machine?" he asked, nodding at the busted piece of equipment. "I hardly imagine that you found that in some random building somewhere."

"That's correct, sir, you know your quality -"

"Spare me the theatrics."

"Sorry, sir," the pigeon said, nodding. "You're right, sir. It's Vault-Tec equipment, of course, and it could only be found in a Vault."

"...A Vault, you say..."

That was something, indeed. According to Enclave records, most of the Vaults in the DC area had already been stripped of anything worthwhile. There were a few that were in the hands of other creatures - monsters, like the Super Mutants, or ghouls - but those that weren't too dangerous to approach had already been cleared of anything of use. Cloning vats, vibration and tonal conditioners, and more had been noted and copied to the Enclave Archives, but to hear that there were more further south...

Well, it did stand to reason, he supposed. There were many Vaults that were spread out across the former United States, as Vault-Tec had been one of those that had been assigned to build many to keep up with the protection orders of the former government. They were complete fakes, most of them, used for experiments rather than for the safety of the citizens, but at this point, tech was king. Anything that he could find and adapt would mean that he had a greater chance of staying alive.

"Which Vault was this one?"

"B1, sir."

"That's not -"

"The Vaults of Virginia and the Carolinas are different, good sir," Harvey said, hurriedly explaining himself as Gruth leaned a little further forward, as Axel reached a little bit further back. "You must understand, the Vaults of the lower states were less finished than the greater Vaults of the upper ones. We had less to work with, and, ahem, according to the stories, a 'less educated' populace. The people down here didn't have to have such fine and fancy places. They would go to ones that were...more numerous, if lower quality."

"...How many are there?"

"Ah, well, sir, that is to be determined, but -"

"Estimate," Helmrick interrupted.

"Ah, I, uh, I know of at least three dozen between here and the Carolinas, sir, only a half-dozen of which have been tapped to any great degree."

Which meant that there were at least thirty Vaults that hadn't been tapped for some reason or another. The very idea of having so many different treasure troves just waiting south of the DC area was nearly enough to have him on his feet and running for them, but he restrained his excitement. Instead, he cocked his head to the side, forcing his academic curiosity to take second place to the priority of the moment. He looked the pigeon in the eye, tapping one hand against his arm.

"And why haven't they been tapped, if there are so many?"

"Ah, well, sir, there are...there are many that are locked up, and...and while we do have various blasting materials down there, we all know the strength of the Vault doors. And there are, ah, a lack of Pip-Boys outside of Charleston."

"And...what is in Charleston?"

"...You haven't heard?" Harvey asked.

Helmrick shook his head. As much as he wanted to know what the truth was down there, he doubted that he'd get the full picture from someone like Harvey. The merchant was clearly not as practiced with his weapons as the griffon had earlier surmised; he hadn't reached for them, and Helmrick imagined that he only used them if he had already gotten the drop on someone else. The primary weapon of the trader had been the pheromone emitter, and without that, he was far more pathetic.

Says the griffon that only just noticed that it was in use. He nearly captured Axel, and if he'd managed that, he would have had Gruth, too. Don't start getting arrogant.

"What's in Charleston?" Axel asked.

"Why...a republic," the pigeon said, shaking his head as if he almost couldn't believe what he was saying. "The start of a new civilization, a real one. The technology is still there."

"No way. No way. Everyone says that, but the bombs wiped it all out," Axel said.

"Not there. They build this against the hurricanes and the natural disasters of the old world," the pigeon said, his voice taking on a tone that was almost worshipful. "They have a real society there, building it up again. The turrets, the security devices, everything still works, and they're gradually building it up again. If you join them, you can join from the ground level and slowly work your way up. It...it's our hope."

A hope. Hopes had a fine way of getting dashed against the rocks of reality, as far as Helmrick was concerned, but it at least gave them something to aim for. The idea that the Vaults could be found and looted on the way was the real incentive for him. All things being equal, he imagined those would be the real prizes going forward. He was more than eager to see what little goodies were waiting in those hidey-holes underground.

"Do they...would they welcome us there?" Axel asked, nodding at Gruth. "Considering what he is?"

"He's controlled, is he not?" Harvey said, laughing. "They are so confident that they'd allow him in the walls. If he ever stepped out of line, why, the guards and the turrets and the robots would bring him down in a breath; nothing could be safer, from what I've seen and heard."

Seen and heard. Those were the key terms. Harvey hadn't seen everything, and some of this was nothing more than hearsay. That was important to keep in mind.

Nonetheless, even Helmrick could tell that this enthusiasm had infected the other two, and it had nothing to do with pheromones this time. They were sold on the idea of heading south, and truth be told, so was he. If nothing else, it would drag them away from the Capital Wasteland before the cold war between the Enclave and the Brotherhood went hot, and that was something that he was eminently in favor of.

"Is there anything else you want to know, good sirs?" Harvey asked.

"Yes. Where is Vault B1?"

"Uh...um..."

"Were you planning on looting it the rest of the way on your way back south?" Helmrick asked.

"...Perchance, sir is correct," the pigeon admitted, "but that is far in the future, and my life is very much on the table at the moment."

"Well, I don't mind leaving some of it behind," Axel said. The capybara glanced back at the griffon. "What do you think? Leave 2/3rds for our friend here?"

"It seems a little much..."

"Come on. You're the scientist. Not like you can take it all with you, anyway, and that leaves Gruth more room to carry stuff from the other Vaults."

Which was...true, to his annoyance. The scientist in him would have preferred to play with all the different gadgets in the Vault and carry away them all -

With what?

That was the question, and it was the deciding factor. There were no legions of Enclave soldiers to help him with his projects anymore, no more free subjects that he could test his various ideas on. He had to make do with what he could find, and what Axel and Gruth were willing to help him with. There were far more variables and uncertainties that he'd have to deal with now, and that was something that he needed to remember. There was no more Enclave support that he got without question. From now on, he had to earn any support that he got.

"Fine. I will take no more than one-third of the gadgets and supplies that I find in the Vault, in exchange for the location," Helmrick said.

"Let me see your Pip-Boy, sir, and I will plot the point for you."

"Fine. Here."

He passed the Pip-Boy over, and as he did, he met Axel's eyes. The capybara nodded, keeping an eye on the pigeon as he started putting the map coordinates in. No need to see someone run off with that.

At the same time, the scientist in him had already been awakened. The idea of going off to the wild blue yonder had always been fraught with danger, and the education that he'd gotten over the last week as to the dangers of the Wasteland had not eased that fear in the slightest. However, with the knowledge that there were Vaults - real, full Vaults - out there that had yet to be explored and cataloged, and knowing that he could be the one to take advantage of them, he was more excited than he had been in years.

What kind of Vault-Tec experiments could they find out there? What sort of madness would be waiting for them across the lands of the south? And what, he wondered, would be waiting for them down in Charleston, past Virginia and North Carolina? There were all kinds of gaps in the Enclave records, he was rapidly finding out, and there was no way to plug them except to explore and find out.

"Gruth."

The aquatic Deathclaw huffed.

"Make sure to escort Harvey down the road, and then...give him a little touch of the tentacle. The sleepy one."

"Mmm."

"That'll be all."

"Sleepy one?" the pigeon asked.

"You'll see," Axel said, chuckling. "Don't worry. Gruth is very good at these things..."

The End

Summary: Helmrick starts to learn how miserable it can be in the Wasteland without radiation protection, and has a very hard time getting used to it. He also learns a little more about how the Wasteland works, and proves some of his value.

Tags: Off-Screen Sex, No Visible Sex, M/H, Size Difference, Radiation, Griffon, Pigeon, Capybara, Deathclaw, Pheromones, Semi-Mind Control, Series, Fallout, Threats, Bargaining,