Butch Deloria is now Literally A Snake Part 1

[mishisings]

I was going to finish the Prom Night drabble first, but fuck it, I do what I want.

Butch awakens feeling terrible. But the first face he sees is Toni's, so he wrestles with his nausea. "Ain't you a sight for sore eyes? Bet you were happy to see me when I rescued you single-handedly from the Enclave." He's a little dizzy, but he sits up on the dirty cot and runs a hand through his hair, trying to look cool and nonchalant. He wobbles at first, but steadies himself.

Toni observes his movements dispassionately, unimpressed by his efforts. "A-and I was so overcome with gratitude that I fainted on the spot and you had to carry me to this shed." Her tone is dry. What's a guy gotta do to get some real flattery around here? 

Now that she mentions it, this isn't the house in Megaton. It looks like the shed had been inhabited by raiders not long ago. He can tell Toni had very considerately gotten rid of the rotting corpses that normally characterize a raider hideout, but the bloodstains are still there. He feels sick.

"Who faints... from gratitude? No room in the Tunnel Snakes for wimps." Man, is the smell in here getting worse? He's gonna hurl. She hands him a bucket, barely betraying a look of concern. So heartless. The bucket is caked with dried blood, and he loses his lunch.

"You-you-you should kick yourself out, then! I get knocked out, kidnapped, spend hours convincing a demented supercomputer to not poison the water supply and blow himself up instead, go on a one-woman rampage through a military base filled with armed fanatics in power armor and, oh yeah, DEATHCLAWS, and did, did I mention the millitary base EXPLODED I did NOT need to see you unconscious in a super mutant's arms to cap my day!" Woww... she did all that? Damn... that's so cool. She's so cool. How'd she get to be so amazing? And she does care. She's this cool and she cares for him! How incredible is that?

"GIVEN THE CIRCUMSTANCES I HAD NO CHOICE BUT TO CARRY HIM HERE! EVEN SO I AM SORRY FOR CAUSING YOU ALARM, MY FRIEND!" Butch hears a voice from the doorway.

"I-i-it's not your fault, Fawkes. I should be, I should be the one apologizing. I appreciate your help." She smiles politely at the big angry yellow face peeking in from outside. Looks like the big guy can't fit into the shed.

"I WILL GO... STAND GUARD!" announces the 'Meta Human.'

"Thanks, Fawkes," Toni says. He lumbers away, the rumbling footsteps ceasing abruptly after only a few paces.

The whole sidebar only half registers to Butch, who's been busy trying to craft a witty retort for Toni through a haze of admiration and fever sweat.

"So... rough day?" he manages.

She turns a glare on him. She's pale, her eyes red and puffy. She looks really tired. "Please... no banter. J-j-just tell me honestly... do you remember what actually happened?" For her to ask him for honesty... she must be seriously worried.

"Okay, doll. For you, no bullshit." She makes a disgusted noise at that, but it sounds half-hearted.

"We were lookin' for the GECK in Vault 87. Fawkes said he knew where it was and he could get it for us, but when he did, there was some kinda explosion. You were right in the middle of it. I got knocked through an open doorway into one of them contamination chambers and..." As Butch recalls the details, a sinking feeling grows in the pit of his stomach that has nothing to do with nausea. "It was some Enclave bastard that set the trap, right? I heard his voice before the door closed. I dunno what went on out there but someone must have... pushed the button and turned on the... sprinklers."

Vault 87. Home of the Super Mutants. Fawkes had been stuck in a chamber just like the one he'd accidentally been locked into... and probably sprayed with the same gas... oh shit. Oh fuck.

"... the stuff I got sprayed with didn't do anything right away... I tried to break outta there but the door couldn't be opened from the inside. Fawkes let me out and we were gonna go rescue you, but I musta... passed out or something." No. This can't be happening. Calm down, you can handle anything, you're Butch fuckin Deloria, Serpent King, veteran wasteland wanderer, and Toni's gonna think you're lame if you freak out over this… 

But the hot, heavy pain in his legs, his arms, his core, his head, his eyes, his teeth, even his bones… It's not just his imagination...

"I'm gonna turn into one-a them, aren't I?" He gestures in the direction of Fawkes. His voice cracks. He can't help it. He's freaking out. "Babe, you gotta help me out here, I don't wanna be a - I don't wanna be a monster!"

Toni leans forward, hugging him. "Don't, don't, don't panic! It's gonna be okay. I'm, I'm not going to let that happen. Okay? I'm a doctor! I'll, I'll, I'll find a cure! Whatever it takes, I won't let my partner, won't let you-" Her grip is stronger than he remembers it, or he just thinks it is because he feels so weak right now. He knows she got 'Vault Doctor' as her GOAT result, but this is the first time she's ever referred to herself as a doctor and not as a doctor's kid. She buries her face in his chest, and he wishes he could properly appreciate it, but instead he's absently patting her back as she continues to hold him. She doesn't fully believe in what she's saying.

But he does. "Yeah… I'm okay now," he says, feeling strangely like he's the one doing the comforting. "If anyone could pull it off, it's you, Toni. You'd turn the whole Capital Wasteland upside down to help a friend." She suddenly pushes him away, her face tinged with pink. He's so glad she escaped the Enclave. What would he do without her?

“I’ll do my best, anyway…” She clears her throat, trying to get back on track. “So the good news is, the good news is… According to Fawkes… Well, not according to Fawkes, even we could tell that isolation chamber wasn’t in the same area as the others. Fawkes says it’s likely it was being used for a different experiment so there’s a good chance the strain of FEV you were infected with… It might not even be FEV, but if it is… then there’s a good chance it’s not the same one as the Super Mutant one.”

“So I might not turn into one of them? Why didn’t ya say so in the first place?”

“The bad news is I don’t know what’s going to happen to you. You might, you might still turn into a Super Mutant... Or, or you might turn into a Centaur, or something completely different. Or you could be in for a, a, a horrible, painful death.”

Butch takes a moment to think about it. A dickless, brain-damaged hulking monster. A centaur...  he doesn’t even want to try to picture what that would be like. Maybe he’ll turn out like Fawkes. That might not be that bad. He’d still have his wits, and he’d be immune to radiation, most diseases… But Fawkes couldn’t remember anything about his human life. Butch isn’t prepared to give up his memories. Besides, none of those ugly bastards even have hair. What life is there for a Super Mutant barber? Given the alternatives, death sounds like the best option. 

“Hell of a bedside manner you got there, Doc. You jerk around all your patients like that?”

“I-I-I don’t believe in lying to my patients.”

“What about earlier? ‘Oh, Butch,’” he clasps his hands under his chin, pitching up his voice. “‘I’ll save you no matter what! Don’t you worry about a thing!’”

“I will! I-I-I meant what I said and I can’t believe, I cannot BELIEVE you’re making fun of me at a time like this!”

“Just promise me one thing, okay? If I start losin’ my hair, kill me right away. I don’t wanna die ugly.”

Outside the shed, Fawkes sighs. He owes these humans his freedom, but he never expected them to be so dramatic.

----------------------------------

Toni has to get started soon if she wants to save Butch from… whatever it is he has. From what she remembers of the computer logs she skimmed in Vault 87, the test subjects of the Evolutionary Experimentation Project seemed to have completed their transformation in two weeks. While she can’t be sure Butch’s condition will follow the same pattern, and in fact she dearly hopes it won’t, two weeks seems like a reasonable time limit to assume for now.

And it’s already been twenty four hours. Butch had been unconscious for most of that. She watches him devour a large portion of their food supplies. Makes a note in her pipboy.

“Subject appears to be ravenous, far beyond the needs of even a meta human.” Nutrients to aid cellular regeneration? Dr. Merrick hadn’t mentioned increased appetite in his notes. Should she be telling him not to eat more or will he die if she limits his intake?

“Knock it off. I haven’t eaten in a day!” Butch complains, spraying cram.

“AND I DO NOT REQUIRE MUCH SUSTENANCE, TRUTH BE TOLD.” Fawkes gingerly holds a lizard on a stick in a massive hand.

“What, what kind of meals did you get when you were first turned?” Toni asks, fairly sure of the answer.

“ALAS, THOSE MEMORIES ARE LOST TO ME.” Just as she thought. She could have gotten a lot of data from him if only he remembered.

“Man… no food, no sex, no brains… No offense, big guy… But what’s the point of Super Mutants?”

“Life finds a way, I guess. Especially, especially when that life was created by ir-irresponsible super-science.”

“LIFE IS NOTHING MORE THAN LIVING IN THE MOMENT. ONLY WHEN ONE IS TRULY PRESENT CAN ONE TRULY BE SAID TO LIVE.”

Toni looks up from her pipboy. Butch looks up from his meal. Both humans stare, nonplussed, at their large friend.

Fawkes might be wiser than either of them will ever be, Toni thinks.

What the hell kind of smarty pants preachy bullshit did I just hear, Butch thinks.

“Yes, well. I don’t think we should be living in the moment here any longer than necessary. Butch, are you feeling, how are you feeling? Well enough to travel?” He’s sure looking and acting much better than he did when he first woke up. She hates to move him so soon, but like all raider dens, this one is filthy and no place to treat a patient.

“Feeling better all the time.” he says, and stands up, stretching. There’s about an inch more of his wrist visible between his hand and the sleeve of his jacket…

“Are you sure? How’s your fever?” she reaches up to touch his forehead. He still seems a little warm. Dr. Merrick hadn’t mentioned anything about the test subjects having fevers. Or nausea. Though just because he didn’t mention it doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.

“I'm not dead yet, Doc. I'll be fine." He takes her hand off him and holds it in both of his. 

It's kind of nice to be called 'Doc.' She should have nursed him through a terrifying virus ages ago.

-------------------

He's not fine, at least not the whole way. He's bounding ahead as if making up for Dogmeat's absence one moment, and so weak Fawkes had to carry him the next. For the next two days, he complains of pain in his legs, in his arms, in his stomach. Headaches, itching, even toothaches. His symptoms are as erratic as her hopes. She'll notice something, cross-reference it with what she knows of FEV, and then go back and forth endlessly about what it means.

By the second day it's clear Butch is getting taller. By the third, she's pretty sure he's building muscle, but it doesn't seem to be at the same rate or in the same shape as a Super Mutant. And how could that be? Is it the difference in diet and exercise? Butch has been on his feet as often as he's physically able, is there some kind of natural process at work prioritizing a more streamlined silhouette or is it just because it's a different strain? She doesn't have any equipment with her that can help her determine one way or the other. She can't wait to get back to her little infirmary kit back in Megaton.

At the end of Day 3 since his infection, the fever breaks, at least. Butch becomes stable enough that Fawkes' help in carrying him becomes unnecessary, and they're getting close to Megaton. While she's pretty sure the people of Megaton would let her do anything she wants, as long as it doesn't endanger them, she doesn't want to waste time she could be spending treating Butch arguing about whether or not they can allow a Super Mutant into town. So Fawkes starts making plans to head to the Museum of History to study.

On day 4, Butch's relative good health continues. They reach Megaton, and say goodbye to Fawkes, with many thanks for his help.

-----------------

The first thing Toni does when they get to Megaton is give Butch a physical exam.

"So what's next, doc? Did you figure out how to fix me?" He's sitting on a couch in the spare room. They'd managed to peel off his t-shirt. What had taken longer was hacking the biometric seal on his pipboy gauntlet. Toni guessed it had bugged out and refused to release properly because it no longer recognized his biochemical signature… but until she had more precise data, she wouldn't know for sure what had gone wrong. Regardless, if they had waited any longer it would have crushed his arm.

The problem is the exam turned up nothing actionable. Maybe something will show up when she tests the blood samples she took. On the way home she kept telling herself that she wouldn't be able to do anything until she had more information, but it is now Day 4 of Butch's… whatever it is, and she still doesn't even know enough to say for sure what the 'whatever it is' is!

"Who knows." she replies sullenly. Is that all she'll be able to do? Just make him comfortable until whatever happens, happens?

"Hey, you're the expert here, I'm in your hands!"

She's pacing nervously around the room. It's not fair. "I'm-I'm-I'm not an expert! I was trained as a Vault doctor! No one, no one ever thought I'd have to deal with, with anything more serious than a flu epidemic or app-app-appendicitis or, or, or -"

Disarming nuclear bombs, fixing radio towers, blasting alien spaceships out of the sky… for a while it seemed like she could do anything, but what's the point if she can't even save a single person she cares about?

"Okay, I get it. Calm down, babe." He reaches out and places one hand on her shoulder. "This is Butch you're talkin' to. The Serpent King? I'd be a pretty lousy leader if I got on your case when you're just doing your job. Just take it slow."

Toni can't help but snort. Even when he's nice, he's still delusional and egotistic.That does the trick, annoyingly enough.

"F-fine. Sit down."

He sits. She checks her notes, takes a deep breath.

"You're about four inches taller. You've built a significant amount of muscle tone. Your appetite is consistent with this rapid growth. This is definitely evidence that you're undergoing some sort of change, and I don’t know how to stop it... if it’s a good idea to stop it."

He stretches back on the couch, arms behind his head. It's an appealing sight, and he knows it. "I could live with this."

She’s determined not to make any comment about how good he looks. “Chances are you’re going to keep changing, so if this was a normal checkup I’d recommend you keep doing what you’re doing regarding diet and exercise… And I guess I’ll, I guess I’ll do that anyway. It can’t hurt.”

“Wait a minute, haven’t we been hikin’ all day to get home since this whole thing started? You want me to keep doing that?”

“We can rest for tonight. I want to run some, run some blood tests and I may need to borrow some stuff from Doc Church… But I, I may not be able to do this on my own, so I think our best, our best bet would be to go find someone with some expertise who can help.” When they were headed home, all she wanted to do was keep him in the house, but now that they’re here… she’s not really sure what she can do.

“Anyway, some of the aches and pains you’ve been complaining about are probably just growing pains. I could give you aspirin, but I don’t know if you would metabolize it properly, and it wouldn’t solve the underlying cause. It should stop, one way or the other, in the next ten days.” She takes a deep breath. “Other than that you appear to be in good health.”

“What? You’re kidding. From the way you were carrying on I thought you found something bad.”

“L-like I said, I was just trained as a, as a family doctor. FEV is a virus that changes you down to your genetic code, it’s not something Dad ever covered! Ac-according to the tests I’ve run, you’re fine, for now, but there’s stuff that I probably couldn’t test or treat you for even if I knew how! I’m, I’m not giving up, but I just want you to know-”

“Yeah, yeah, the situation is dire, and dying is only one of many horrible things that could happen to me...”

He’s not getting it.

Maybe it’s better that way. Does he really need to be reminded of what happens to the minds of Super Mutants? Does he really need to know that the cellular regeneration that’s occurring in the rest of his body is also occurring in his brain, that he might lose his memories, and the part of him that’s so concerned about his looks, and the part of him that wakes up in the morning and makes stupid jokes about the erotic lamp hanging from the ceiling, and the part of him that gets so hilariously offended when she calls him a hairdresser, because of new braincells destroying the connections in his mind? How would it help him to know that?

She’s so deep in rumination she barely hears his next line.

“One question: Am I contagious?”

“Hm? O-oh. No. Not at all.” She would have been much more careful about touching him if that were the case. “That’s an easy one. If FEV was contagious the Super Mutants wouldn’t need to kidnap people. A-and given how many of them we’ve come into contact with we wouldn’t be having this conversation now.”

He’s back on his feet, and crowding into her. “Then it’s okay for me to do this?” She backs up… into the wall, which isn’t far.

“M-m-medically speaking, you’re okay. Morally speaking, you’re, you’re on thin ice, buster.” What. The hell. Is this? It’s been a while since the kiss at Tenpenny Tower. She’d just about convinced herself that he was just messing with her.

“C’mon, I’m a dying man, doll. Don’t I get one last request?” He leans, one-handed, against the wall. Last time he did this to her was… Three years ago, was it that long ago? But that was a hallway and she’d been able to easily slip away.

“T-to your first statement, that hasn’t yet been confirmed. To the second, you’re, you’re a lot more likely to get one if you don’t antagonize your doctor!” Unlike last time, he seems content to watch as she squirms her way away from him. But just like last time, he’s wearing that infuriating smirk. How the hell had he been so popular back in the Vault if this was his idea of seduction?

“Who’s antagonizing? This is your handsome, fearless, desperately imperilled leader’s final order.” She’s out the door and he’s in the doorway, and she’s contemplating just closing the door in his face, when she realizes she forgot her notes and samples in there. Fuck. No wonder he was in no hurry to chase her.

“You don’t give me orders, remember? I-I’m the wasteland survival expert, and you listen to me or you die ignominiously.” She crosses her arms challengingly.

“Ohhh, I’m dyin’ already! Just once in my life, I wanted to command the respect of my troops!” He mimes fainting tragically against the doorframe. The way he’s contorting makes it hard to ignore his abs. “Won’t you grant the last wish of a poor dying man?”

He’s not wrong. He could be dying, and it wouldn’t be out of line to show him kindness on what could be his last days as Butch Deloria… But his behaviour is making it extremely hard for her to take him seriously. Despite herself, she cracks a smile.

“You haven’t even said what you want.”

He cuts his pitiful act short, his body language expressing enthusiasm for her concession. If he was a dog, he'd be wagging his tail. “A kiss from my cute nurse!”

He’s making fun of her. “That’s, that’s highly inappropriate!”

“Wow, it’s just a kiss. Get your mind out of the gutter.”

She meant that fraternizing with their patients is generally a bad idea for doctors, but he probably wouldn't care anyway.

She sighs. “I should have known you were going to ask for, for something ridiculous. Step, step aside so I can get my stuff. I’m very busy trying to save your life.”

He brings his face close to hers. “I’ll make you a deal. We kiss, and then I let you get your things." Unbelievable. Does he realize he's essentially holding his life hostage just to annoy her?

"No deal." She pushes his face away with the palm of her hand and shoves her way back into the room. It's a bit like wrestling with a floppy wall, but she manages. By the time she's gathered everything she needs, though, he's looming over her again, and worse, this time she has her hands full.

"Butch, I have to run tests on these blood samples!" 

"Can't it wait just a few minutes? This could be the last time I ever get to kiss anyone." His expression softens. She wonders if he knows how effective that is. She's actually feeling sorry for him!

"A-and of all people, you want it to be me? I-I-I thought you were out of my league?"

"I ain't playing baseball! You see anyone else around?" And the sympathy is gone again. The 'I'm too hot for you' tack has always been one of his favorite ones to take whenever anyone suggested he might be interested in her, romantically. Now suddenly he's not picky?

She's getting a headache. She takes a deep breath and goes slowly, so she doesn't stumble over her words. Looking straight into his eyes, she says: "Butch, think about this. You are distracting me from gathering what could be vital information about your condition. Now, step aside, let me do my job, and maybe I'll think about your absurd little request."

He leans forward, delighted. "Oh, I'm a distraction, am I?"

She's lost it. "YES! DID YOU HEAR A-ANYTHING, ANYTHING ELSE I SAID?!"

“You’ll think about it?”

“OH MY GOD, GET OUT OF MY WAY BEFORE I KILL YOU MYSELF.”

Finally, he does so.

Unfortunately, it’s a small house. The infirmary station is only about five paces away from where they were having their argument. And most of the tests are automated. It will take her five minutes to set everything up, and then she’ll have to wait. And fret. And… Be harassed, she guesses. She can feel his eyes on her.

“D-don’t you have anything better to do?”

“Not really.”

“Y-you could at least go put on a new shirt.”

“Don’t have any that will fit me.” he replies cheerfully.

“I don’t bel- nevermind.” Come to think of it, she hasn’t seen him wear anything loose since he left the vault. All his clothing is tightly fitted, which means it’s only a matter of time before he has no suitable pants, either… Let’s not think about that.

“S-so see if Moira has any in stock. If you tell her why you need it, I’m sure she’ll be fascinated.”

“Maybe I’ll do that later.”

Setup is complete. Now she has nothing but time. She looks back at Butch. He hasn’t moved from the doorframe.

“D-do I have to come up with stuff for you to do so you’ll leave me alone?”

“You already know what I want to do- hey!” 

She vanishes into her room and comes out with a shirt.

It’s the 3XLarge pink men’s t-shirt that she used to use as a nightshirt before Butch moved in and she started wearing shorts to bed. She walks right up to him and shoves it into his chest. 

“I’m not wearing that,” he laughs.

This is a bad idea, but... “If I give you what you want… Will you do what I say?”

He grabs her wrist, holding her hand in place. “I’ll think about it.” He says, grinning.

“Y-you’ll do more than think about it!”

She meant her glare to burn into him. It just bounces off his smug face.

“Well, now, that depends on what you ask me, doll.” His thumb rubs gently against her wrist. This is such a bad idea. “If you’re just gonna make me run laps around Megaton the answer is no.”

“Don’t prov-provoke me.” Her gaze briefly drifts down to his chest, only partially obscured by the bundle of cloth. If she’s going to do this she really would prefer him to be clothed. Less temptation to get carried away.

She sighs. “I’m not gonna get a better deal, am I?” He’s already caught her. All she can do now is try not to embarrass herself.

He doesn’t reply. He lifts her chin up with an index. Traces her lips with his thumb. Really drawing out the moment, almost to the point of annoying her. And just as she’s about to tell him to get on with it-

He chuckles. “Relax! You look so tense.”

And he goes in for the kiss.

And it’s just as she remembers it from Tenpenny Tower. It’s exactly what she was afraid of. It feels like the kisses in all those stupid pirate books she read in the vault, deep, and passionate and so right. Like they’ve been doing this forever. Like it’s their first time, and it’s love at first sight. He releases her wrist to support her waist, but she keeps her hand on the t-shirt pressed to his chest like the rest of his body is lava. His other hand is tangled in her hair at the nape of her neck, and how is she supposed to relax when the last time they did this, she got caught trying to get to second base? The problem is not relaxing, the problem is remembering this is Butch Deloria, and he doesn't actually care who he's kissing right now. Surely he wouldn't  be snogging her so passionately if he wanted her specifically. But it feels that way, and that’s the problem, how is she supposed to stay objective when he’s making her feel like this? She’s the reason he’s dying in the first place, she never should have let him get this close… But she’s kissing back, and she’s got her arm wrapped around his neck, bringing him in closer, deeper. She can't just let him do the work, she can't let him think she's his for the taking. She might just be playing into his hands but if she's damned either way she may as well be proactive about it... 

When they come up for air, it does feel like she's lost this battle. She's flushed and winded, but she's almost grateful to see his smirk. It makes it easier for her to push him away. He'd be a lot harder to handle if he wasn't so smugly aware of his 'charms'.

 

Five minutes later, he's running laps on the outskirts of Megaton dressed in a gigantic pink t-shirt and Toni's left alone with her work. Relax. Hah! Not when there's so much data to collect.