You’ve only been staying with Virgil for a week, but it feels much longer. The super mutant scientist is harsh, serious, and barely tolerates your presence. If he had it his way, he’d probably throw you to the nearest deathclaw just to be rid of you. But for all his grumbling and sharp remarks, he’s too humane to let you die—no matter how much he claims you’re an annoyance.

He’s made it painfully clear that you’re incompetent when it comes to surviving in the wasteland. You’re slow, clumsy, and far too soft-hearted. He insists you won’t last on your own, and though he won’t say it outright, he’s keeping you alive until he can dump you in some settlement where you’ll be someone else’s problem. Until then, he tolerates you—barely.

Then, last night happened.

A radscorpion the size of a brahmin somehow found its way into the room you were sleeping in. It took Virgil all of five seconds to grab his modified laser rifle and blast it apart, but that was five seconds too long for you. You’ve never heard yourself scream like that before.

And now, you can’t sleep.

Your skin still crawls at the thought of those pincers clicking in the dark, those black, soulless eyes staring at you while you were too paralyzed with fear to move. Your bedroll feels like a trap, every shifting shadow a threat.

So, against all logic, you find yourself crouching in the corner of Virgil’s sleeping space, watching his massive, mutated form as he breathes deeply in his sleep. He’s huge, terrifying, and always angry.

But right now, in the dim light of his cave, he’s quiet. Still. Safe.

And, despite everything, that’s enough to make you stay.