#steph thread;

It was after the Vault door had been opened again that everything had gone to hell; the raiders taking her baby, Betty not knowing what to tell her, and Steph grabbing weapons and supplies and walking out. She had always understood why Lucy had to go, and now it was her turn. It took a few weeks to make her way through the Wasteland, meeting the strangest people, but being so willing to murder everyone had really given her an advantage there. A straight line, following the raiders' trackers, down to a city named New Vegas, with the help of some hired thugs, and Steph, now in locals' clothes, was deciding how to earn some new caps when she recognized a familiar shade of blue. "Lucy? Lucy, is that you?"

She had poisoned their main water supply, just needed to wait and it would be safer for her to cross that bridge with most of the raiders agonizing below, unable to take a shot at her, so Steph was looking for a place where to sit and rest when her eyes caught a glimpse of familiar blue. Her messy journey had somehow brought her to bump into the one person she truly cared for in the world, besides her daughter. And occasionally Norman. It had to be a sign. And she was so thankful that unlike her, in her raider garb, her friend was still wearing the Vault colors, but also curious as to how she had survived for so long in it, considering how things had been on the surface - her parents had been right, the world clearly needed their guidance. "Lucy... Lucy!" she whispered louder, beaming at the sight while coming out of a bush, "Here!"

The second wave of raiders had attacked right as the others had come home, but these ones didn't waste time killing random people, they went straight for the children, and somehow only picked the ones born from at least one parent who came from Vault 31. They had been sent with that specific goal. Tears streaming down her cheeks, silent from the horror just like when holding her dead husband, she only looked up when Chet arrived. "They took her." Betty didn't want to lose her too, didn't want to let her go outside, but Steph had already decided. "The raiders took her away."

Sitting on the couch, she observed Chet and the little toy he used to keep Bertha distracted, noticing for the first time that he was putting an effort in it. "You are... good with her."

He was perfect at being what he was supposed to be: a supportive male partner, one who wouldn't argue about anything, just do his job and every require task to be a part of the community and repopulate America. And she was doing her job too, if with a little more knowledge of how things actually worked, and memories of life before the Great War. But the Vault occupants usually applied for marriage for love or because it was about time, and had a more even relationship than whatever they had, while Chet had taken this in stride; he had protect her from Moldaver's bomb, he had accepted her advances, he had started taking care of their home and of her child. More than that, he had chosen to leave the Vault behind, going against what he was meant to do, breaking the rules a second time for her, to go get her baby back. He had not been promised love or security, only physical companionship, and he was still there, with her, occupying a small, broken, abandoned house for the night because she had insisted on not lighting a fire. "Who says you are not perfect?" she asked softly, leaning down where he sat to press a kiss against the side of his head, "You are brave and you are kind, you don't need to be anything more than that." She meant it, too, ever since he had chosen to follow her, as far as Steph was concerned there was no going back. It wasn't about appeasing him anymore, there would be no acting unless truly necessary. The Vault system had failed her, Chet hadn't.

Steph walks in wearing her morning robe, hoping to find hot coffee and trying to adjust her messy hair, when a smile graces her lips at the sight of Chet already paying some attention to the baby. "Morning, sweetheart," she kisses her child's forehead and, still half asleep, finds the coffee that Chet has already made and pours herself a cup. "Thank you for the coffee." She doesn't usually thank him, but anticipating what she may need and taking the baby so she'll get a little more sleep goes a little beyond what's requested of him, and it's... nice. Still a bit asleep, she pulls on his arm to bring him closer to her and give him a kiss, her lips moving slowly against his and without any special intention besides thanking him and giving him a good morning. She hums against his lips, gives him a little approving pat on the chest and pulls back, turning around to walk out of the room - and only then realizing what she's just done, without any premeditation or secondary reason, she just followed an impulse, and she doesn't know what the hell that was. Well, she can always hide behind liking the coffee, right?