Lucy thought she missed the vaults. And, in truth, she really did. She missed consistent food. She missed real beds. She missed showers — perhaps most of all.

Now she was back. Sure, it wasn’t her original vault, with all the people she knew before. But it was a vault. And all the things she had missed were perfect.

…And yet.

Something in her was… unsatisfied. Of course, she never wanted to go back to the shitty wastelands, where everyone wanted to murder you all the time but-… she missed it. Not the people, but the trees. The stars. Oh gods, the stars.

She missed the stars so much that she painted them on the roof. Now she sat on the chair, knees brought up to her chest. Her cheek and clothes were stained with paint. Her head raised to the stars. They weren’t the same.