Chapter Text
The Vault-Tec salesman sweats, nervous- his hands fidget with the clipboard, and his teeth worry at his lips.
August blinks. Looks back inside at Juno- looks back at the man on the doorstep.
“I’m. . . a little busy right now,” he says, and the salesman clears his throat again.
“ Oh of course, of course. This won't take but a moment. It's just a matter of verifying some information. . . I just need to make sure you're cleared for entrance, in the unforeseen event of,” and there he pauses, adjusts his tie; “Total atomic annihilation.”
August can’t help it- he laughs, just a little bit. “Sure,” he says, and closes the door.
Juno smiles- Shaun babbling in her arms. The TV is off- Codsworth heats up milk as the salesman on the other side of the door shakes his head, leaving for the next house.
The world is awash in the colors of morning- salmon pink in the clouds that float overhead. Juno hands August a cup of coffee- perfectly made, sugar and milk clouding it until it reflects the skin on his hands. He thanks Codsworth for the brew.
It’s the sound of impact that gets him up. The sky turns orange, clouded and bloodied- his hand is tight in Juno’s grasp, Shaun cradled in her other arm as they watch the fire lift into the air, a rattling motion taking over every cup in the kitchen.
August turns, looks at Juno- her mouth is pinched, eyes focused on the rising mushroom cloud, arm wound tight around Shaun. He closes his eyes, the rattling getting louder, Codsworth shouting in distress.
The world is awash with a horrible flame, a soundwave shattering glass and bones alike, shards of wood, plastic, cement, ripping and tearing through soft clothes and flesh.
And in the resulting silence, in the quiet after a storm, a baby cries.
--
He is ripped into the world- shaking gasps leaving his aching throat, the phantom embrace of smoke and shards ripping him apart-
He is on something soft. Something cool under his fingers- something that moves slightly with a whistling sound- his eyes, squeezed shut from the exertion, open slowly.
August sits upright, sheets thrown from his form, his hands clenched in the sheets below him. Juno sleeps beside him still, the cleft in her lip letting air out like the spout of a kettle. The window outside casts the beginnings of sunlight onto his legs, yellows and faint pinks dancing around the room.
August gets up.
His legs shake, hands trembling even more, but he slides open the door to Shaun’s room- the rocket ships on the carpet greet him, his bare feet cushioned on the fibers of the rug.
A tentative hand grips the edge of the crib- eyes close in fear- was it all a dream? Is this the afterlife? What if he opens his eyes and sees the burnt remains of the world, Shaun nothing but a small skeleton, too small skull wrapped in still burning pieces of his blanket-
August opens his eyes, his hand nearly tearing the wood from where it lays, nails dug in making crescent shaped holes.
Shaun burbles, his little hands reaching up- August bends, eyes watering as his son grabs at his face. Shaun’s eyes are alight with that infantile sort of wonder, hands rubbing at the stubble on his chin.
Juno finds him like that, waking up to an empty bed- wandering out and looking through the doorway. She takes his hand, pries it off the wooden slat of the crib.
Codsworth is already bustling about in the kitchen, a cup of coffee on the counter. Sugar, milk- the color of his hands.
Someone knocks at the door.
“Would you get that, dear?” Juno asks, leaving the room to go to the bathroom, freshening up.
“Of course,” he says, slowly, haltering- his dream started out with a knock at the door, but- it was of course, just a dream.
August unlocks the front door, opens it with a twist of his wrist. “Good Morning-” He starts,
There is a Vault Tec salesman at his door.
August shuts the door. Slams it, really. Shaun starts to cry at the other end of the house.
Juno’s voice echoes through the hall into the living room, “August? Who was it? Is something wrong?”
“Uh, nothing! Nothing is wrong, just some annoying salesman- trying to . . . sell us something. You know how it is!” He calls back.
More knocking at the door. He can hear the salesman on the other side. August keeps his foot against the door, hand reaching behind him to flip the deadlock shut.
“Oh, well, if you’re sure!” Juno says, and August lets out a breath, letting his back slump against the door.
Just a dream. It was all a dream.
He sits down, still against the door. The salesman moves on, the knocking stops. He buries his face in his hands.
A minute later, there is the sound of something impacting the ground- a dull boom reverberating through the house.
He covers his ears.
--
August is on something soft, the taste of ash withering away in his mouth.
He gets out of bed.
There is coffee already made, Codsworth pouring sugar and milk into it as he stumbles into the kitchen.
“Sir?” Codsworth asks- August stands in front of the window.
The world is awash with the colors of the dawn. Salmon pink clouds drift overhead, the yellows on the horizon looking almost like fire.
Shaun is crying.
“Oh, dear- let me get that sir!” Codsworth says, exiting the kitchen. August doesn’t blink.
There is a hand on his arm. Juno’s head fits into the nook between his shoulder and neck. She mumbles something into the skin of his collarbone.
August hums.
“There you are,” she murmurs, and leads him to the bathroom. She sits him at the toilet, pulling his hair behind his head and tying it back. His fingers drift along the edges of her hijab, undone and hanging around her neck like wings. She kisses him on the forehead, short and sweet. He blinks.
“We missed you, Jaan .” She says, lathering shaving cream on his cheeks and chin. His eyes follow the movements of the brush.
“Thought I lost you again, hmm? Where were you in your head, darling?”
He hums back, voice raspy and choked.
“Dream,” he says, because anything more would make her worry.
He can feel her smile against his scalp. Her hand cups his chin, a razor held deftly in the other, slow swipes down his jaw. His eyes close.
There is knocking at the front door.
“Ah, I’ll go get it,” Juno states, starting to unwind herself from around him. August catches her hand as she straightens.
“No,” he utters. She blinks, but doesn’t protest.
The knocking stops after a minute. August leans his head into her stomach. It is warm here, he thinks. He would stay here forever.
Centuries later, they will find two bodies, curled around each other in an endless worship.
--
There is yellow light playing on the back of his eyes. The bed is soft under his fingers.
August sighs.
He shaves in the bathroom, kisses his wife on the cheek when she hands him his coffee.
Shaun cries, and there is a knock at the door.
This time when he opens it, the words are rehearsed, sitting on the tip of his tongue.
“Good morning,” He says, and it is like reading off a script.
“Isn't it? Just look at the sky out there!” the salesman says, and clears his throat. “You can't begin to know how happy I am to finally speak with you. I've been trying for days. It's a matter of utmost urgency, I assure you.”
August nods, the back of his throat dry.
“Now, I know you're a busy fellow, so I won't take up much of your time. Time being a, um, precious commodity. . . I'm here today to tell you that because of your family's service to our country, you have been pre-selected for entrance into the local Vault. Vault 111.”
“Ah.” August says, and swallows.
“Won't take but a moment! We do need to verify some information. To make sure you're cleared for entrance, in the unforeseen event of. . .” and there he pauses, adjusts his tie; “Total atomic annihilation.” August mutters.
“Total atomic annihilation- wait, what?” The salesman asks, face suddenly screwed up in confusion. August smiles, tries to chuckle.
“Sorry, just- uh. Nothing.”
The salesman blinks at him.
August’s smile widens, and he looks behind him, looking for Juno. No dice.
“Aha. . . well, anyways! I just need to verify some information.” the man holds out his clipboard.
August hums, and takes the clipboard. It’s an assessment of some sort. He fills out a few lines, signs his name, and hands it back. There is the taste of ash on his tongue.
The salesman salutes, the clipboard folded under one arm. “Wonderful! That's everything . . . Just gonna walk this over to the Vault! Congratulations on being prepared for the future!”
August nods. His mind feels fuzzy. He takes a sip from his coffee.
Juno turns on the television.
It’s a constant background noise, as August is beckoned into Shaun’s room. His son seems especially fascinated by his fingers. He blinks, and Juno is pulling him into the living room.
The newscaster rattles through the tv, agitated and nervous all in one.
“ Followed by... yes, followed by flashes. ” The words spilling out are covered in static. “ Blinding flashes. Sounds of explosions... We're... we're trying to get confirmation... But we seem to have lost contact with our affiliate stations... We do have... coming in... confirmed reports. ”
August rubs at his forehead. Juno besides him swears, only to start murmuring under her breath. “ I repeat, confirmed reports of nuclear detonations in New York and Pennsylvania.”
“Astaghfirullah,” Juno mutters.
“ My God. ” the newscaster says.
“Shit.” August curses, and runs to grab Shaun.
It’s a mad dash out of the house, up the hill and through the woods- there is a couple, their neighbors from down the street- Juno stops to help them pack, and the world ends in a dull boom.
--
August shakes Juno awake by the shoulders. She wakes with a gasp, hands lunging underneath her pillow to pull a knife- in one quick moment it’s embedded between his fourth and fifth rib.
Juno gasps more, hands suddenly fluttering around the handle, gripping at his shoulders as he coughs.
There is blood on the bed.
August lifts a hand to his mouth. His palm is stained red. Juno sobs, and pulls him to her chest.
He can’t feel his body.
He can’t-
--
August surges up with another gasp- Juno’s sobs still echoing in his ears.
“Okay.” He says. “Okay.”
He looks at his hands- they are clean, imprints from the blanket causing pink lines across his arms, crisscrossing around and around. He presses a hand to his chest. There is no blood, no handle sticking into him.
There is no pain.
“This is just like Groundhog Day.” He says. Just like Groundhog Day.
August swings his legs over the side of the bed. It is 9:32 A.M.
He has to pack. August opens the dresser, haphazardly tugs on a shirt, shimmies into pants. He straps his watch on, and notes the time. 9:35.
“Okay.” He says, and pulls out the trunks. He doesn’t fold anything, just starts throwing things in. Shirts. Bras. Boxers. Socks. Juno wakes up as he starts tugging different jeans out of the bottom drawer.
“August?” She asks, voice muggy from sleep. “What are you doing?”
“Packing,” He states, and throws a bundle of slacks into the trunk. “No time to explain.”
“August.” She says, “You’re worrying me.”
He shuts the clasps. Checks his watch. 9:42 A.M.
“I’m just-” He starts.
There’s a knocking at the door.
“-Shit. . . No time.” He finishes, and practically sprints to the front door. The door swings open as Codsworth calls out to him.
“Good morning! Vault-Tec calling!” The salesman- damn, August needs to remember when he knocks- nods, a practiced smile already on his face.
“Yeah, yeah, Vault-Tec,” August says, and reaches out a hand.
“Gimme.”
The rep looks confused. “What?”
“Give. Give me the board.” August says, and waves his hand around like a worm on a hook. The rep looks at his clipboard. August wriggles his fingers at it.
“This?” The salesman asks, lifting it up with a bemused expression.
“Yes- yes, Jesus fuck ,” He says, and swipes it out of the man’s hands. Quick look at the time- shit , 9:47- and he almost tears the pages trying to fill them out. “Here-” he says, pushing the board back into the startled rep’s arms, “Go do your Vault-Tec shit.”
He slams the door in the salesman’s stupid face.
Juno stands behind him, looking incredibly judgy. She raises a brow- “Your shirt is on backwards, August.”
Shit fuck, he thinks, and pulls it off. Codsworth squeaks from somewhere in the kitchen.
“August.” Juno folds her arms. He shakes.
The time is 9:49, and August starts back to life. He turns on the tv. It’s the weather.
“August,” Juno calls- he ducks into Shaun’s room for what feels like the fiftieth time, and scoops him out of the crib. Codsworth says something that he doesn’t pay attention to. He hands Shaun to Juno, grabs the now packed trunk, and the television crackles.
“ Followed by... yes, followed by flashes. ” the announcer says, and August opens the front door.
“August!” Juno yells, and Shaun starts to cry.
There is the dull sound of the newscaster panicking, overlaid by Shaun’s tears and the wails of the sirens alike. The wind seems to pick up leaves from the trees- they whip down the street, mixed with bits of dirt, sticks, and garbage.
“Come on!” He shouts back, and forges out the door.
His neighbors scream, and he has to pull Juno away from the couple arguing over their pack. The time is 9:52.
He looks- the entrance to the vault is blocked by a small crowd of people. Fuck , he thinks, and bounces on the balls of his feet. Shaun is still crying.
There is a derisive boom - seconds later a cloud of ash and fire appear over the edges of the trees. August blinks.
Juno screams.
--
“ Fuck! ” he shouts, and Juno startles awake beside him. Codsworth, somewhere in the other rooms, stirs.
“August, what are you doing?” Juno asks, and he slips out of the bed, looking at the clock.
“Nine thirty-two, nine thirty-two,” He mutters, and slides out of the master bedroom. Codsworth yelps- he has no shirt on- August keeps moving, head frazzled and hair even more so. There is a cup of coffee in one of Codsworth’s limbs- August grabs it, tries to knock it back.
The coffee is black, scalding, and he spits it out- Juno shouts something from inside the bedroom and Shaun starts to wail.
“Fuck, fuck! ” He says, and drops the mug. Codsworth tries to touch him- Shaun’s cries grow louder and louder.
He backs away, coffee burning across his mouth and chest, chunks of ceramic piercing his feet- his foot slips, hands go out akimbo, he tilts back as if in slow motion.
August’s head connects with the metal of the island.
--
He falls out of bed, this time. His head pounds, and he cradles it as he curls on the floor. Juno pulls him back into the bed, fussing around with the curtains.
There is a knock at the door.
August falls asleep to the sound of his wife talking.
--
“Good morning,” August says. The Vault-Tec representative smiles back.
“Isn't it? Just look at the sky out there! You can't begin to know how happy I am to finally speak with you. I've been trying for days. It's a matter of utmost urgency, I assure you.” the rep says, fidgeting with his clipboard.
“Mm.”
“Now, I know you're a busy fellow, so I won't take up much of your time. Time being a, um, precious commodity. . .” August nods. “I'm here today to tell you that because of your family's service to our country, you have been pre-selected for entrance into the local Vault-”
“Vault 111.” August states, and the salesman nods excitedly.
“Alright! Right you are, sir. Now, you're already cleared for entrance, in the unforeseen event of-”
“Total atomic annihilation,” He says blandly.
The rep laughs, nervously. August blinks.
“I just need to verify some information. That's all! Haha, uh,” The clipboard is shoved forwards, tapping August in the chest. He wraps a hand around it, still staring at the salesman.
He signs on the dotted line, and hands the board back to the representative.
“‘Congrats on being prepared for the future,’” He drones, and shuts the door.
Juno stands behind him, eyes wide.
“Vault-Tec.” She mouths, and he nods.
“Just like I said,” He says, hand pressing against the shut door still. He holds the other hand up, and cocks a finger towards the hallway.
“Shaun,” He states, and wailing fills the room. Codsworth hurries out, Juno still standing, staring.
He turns the television on. “Nine fifty,” He says, and the weather fizzles out in static, replaced by the local news anchor.
“ Followed by... yes, followed by flashes. Blinding flashes. Sounds of explosions… ” Juno’s eyes go impossibly wider. August pushes past her.
“Codsworth, give me Shaun,” he says, holding his arms out. Outside, the sirens start to blare. Codsworth fusses, shushing Shaun as he’s bundled into another blanket. August holds his son carefully, trying to commit the details of his face to memory.
Alright , he thinks, and checks the time.
9:51.
Juno follows him out the door, past the couple, up to the vault. He pushes past the crowd, the people, the Vault-Tec representative yelling at the gate.
The soldiers usher them on, Juno almost clinging to his arm as they walk. They stand on the platform, surrounded by their panicking neighbors, and wait.
“Nine fifty three,” He mutters, and there is a deafening boom.
--
The platform eases into the darkness, slow and steady despite the chaos rampaging above. August grips Juno’s hand, his eyes closed tight.
When he opens them, there is the taste of filtered air on his tongue, and artificial light on his face. He is welcomed forwards, given a suit by a group of. . . scientists?
He looks at Juno- there are tear streaks down her cheeks.
Changed, they get into the decontamination pods. He holds Shaun tightly against his chest.
The pod is cold.
--
Something is prying at his hands- trying to take Shaun out of them. He groans, tries to twist out of their hold- they’re not getting his baby, they’re not touching him-
Someone yells.
He curls in tighter, trying to mumble out excuses while his eyes unstick- he feels so cold, what happened- what happened? The hands around his boy are tight and punishing.
Something cracks. Warmth spills from his shoulder.
He’s so cold.
--
August wakes up with a slow intake of breath- the air is warm. He blinks.
When the sirens wail, he holds Juno’s hand.
He doesn’t take Shaun.