Knock On Wood -OR- The Vaults Weren't Meant To Save Anyone, So I'll SAVE Them Myself

The story went live one week ago on Spacebattles here and on Ao3 here.

Below find chapter 2 early for my wonderful patrons!

Chapter 2: Vault 66

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Frisk woke up with a gasp. Their first attempt at getting up failed when their fingers went through the grated floor and they hissed as their fingers twisted. Now their hand hurt, and so did their back, their head, their stomach--

They flopped onto their stomach and threw themselves to the edge of the bridge in time to vomit over the side. The sound of it splattering against the floor below was sickening, and almost had them throwing up even more, but they forced it back down and pulled themselves up on shaky legs.

Their eyes weren’t doing so good either. For a few seconds Frisk thought they might be blind, because trying to open their eyes hurt. But they kept trying, and eventually they could just about stand to squint.

Trying to get their bearings, they looked around. Lights flickered overhead, and machinery hummed beneath their feet as they staggered across the bridge onto the vault floor. They found the bag nearby, as well as their stick; to their disappointment it had snapped cleanly in half during their tumble. They set the bottom half aside and took the knobbed end in hand. It was at a more reasonable size now, at least, and they couldn’t get rid of it. It was a gift from Hawk, and now they’d never--

It was quiet in Vault 66. And cold. It was warm for October, so they hadn’t worn a sweater, and now they were chilly. Did they not install the heating system yet when they shut down?

Frisk shook the thought away. Not important. They made their way over to the door control console. They had to pull a stool over to actually see over the top, but once that was done they inspected it. It was a little more complex than the one outside, but that one had had what looked like a speaker. Dad was on the way with Kris, and Frisk needed to know when they were here so they could open the door for them. Only Frisk could open it since they had the Pip-boy, so they had to stay close. Dad would know how to use the radio from outside, he’d tell them when they were there, but until then they had to stay close.

Unless they didn’t make it.

No, they had to. Dad said they would.

Frisk blinked, wiping some water out of their eyes, wondering if the pipes overhead were leaking.

…Weren’t there--yes, there were people climbing the stairs when it happened? Yes. But wouldn’t they be hailing the radio if they were still out there--

They probably weren’t out there, then. Not anymore.

Frisk forced the thought away. They couldn’t be the only one.

They settled down to wait. Dad and Kris would be there soon.

And so they waited.

And waited.

And waited.

It was awfully chilly, wasn’t it? They couldn’t find a vaultsuit anywhere in the atrium, and they weren’t going farther than that because what if they missed them, but it turned out that Dad packed his into the bag. It was… really big on Frisk at first, but amazingly once they had all four limbs inside, their Pip-boy beeped and then the suit shrank to fit!

Well. Almost. It was still two sizes too big when it was done, but it was manageably big instead of hilariously big, which would have to be good enough. They tucked the pants into their boots and rolled up the sleeves, and at the end of it they were much more comfortable with the temperature.

And they waited.

And waited.

And waited.

There were lots of granola bars in the bag. Frisk’s stomach started rumbling, so they had one. It tasted like dirt that had been used to grow bananas, but it at least filled their stomach. The canned water was a little trickier; the chill in the air made the can slick, and their fingers kept slipping, but they eventually got it.

And they waited.

And waited.

And waited.

The bathroom wasn’t far, thank goodness. It was the fastest they’d ever used it before. If it hadn’t been stocked with toilet paper they might have just cried.

While they were there, they noticed their dad’s Pip-boy acting up. Inspecting it told them that wearing the vaultsuit had told the little computer that they were not, in fact, their dad, and now it wanted their name instead. So they put their name in, whispering an apology to their dad for taking over it like that.

Frisk Friedmont

Are you…

S.P.E.C.I.A.L.?

I like to think so, Frisk thought as they read the little screen. Their stats showed up, but they ignored that. Kris always thought the idea of putting a number to things like likability of luck of all things was stupid, and so Frisk didn’t put much stock in it either. They knew it was bogus anyway when they saw how high their luck supposedly was, since they certainly didn’t feel very lucky right now.

And they waited.

And waited.

And waited.

They slept on the floor, using the lump bag as a pillow and the clothes they came in with as the world’s least effective blanket. They drifted in and out of consciousness, unable to relax because what if they arrived while Frisk was sleeping?!

They couldn’t give up. They had to be okay.

And they waited.

And waited

And…wait.

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October 25, 2077

That’s what their Pip-boy said when they realized something, waking up with a horrified thought.

When the Vault opened, it was because the Pip-boy was registered to their dad, who was--is--the chief security officer of the vault. They remembered hearing that, definitely. But now, it was registered to them. What had they done?!

Frisk scrambled to the console. Screw waiting, they’d open the vault and look for them! They just had to make sure the door would still open.

They fidgeted, anxious. They knocked on their wooden stick for luck and crossed their fingers, and all the tension bled out of them when the console accepted them and the big red button flipped open.

The door slowly, slowly, agonizingly slowly opened, and--

--And the rain poured in, and where it touched Frisk’s skin it sizzled and burned.

They screamed, scrambling away from the door as fast as they could. The rain hissed on the floor, and the metal corroded before their very eyes, staining it black. The wind blew it in, and no matter where Frisk went they got wet.

They had no choice, and fled further into the vault, closing the door behind them. Thank goodness for their stick, or they wouldn’t have been able to reach the control panel and the whole vault might have flooded.

Collapsing against the door, they took deep breaths, trying to calm down. Frisk reached up to their cheek, where that first fat drop had touched them, and winced at the pain. Their hand came away bloody.

Luckily, there was a first aid kit nearby, next to a door labeled ‘Barracks.’ Like everything else it was too tall for Frisk, but a whack from their stick knocked it off the wall. A stimpack and a pack of bandages fell out onto the floor.

Frisk eyed the needle warily. They’d never used a stimpack before. They’d never had one used on them before. They didn’t get hurt much, and when they did it was never so bad that they needed one. They didn’t like needles, and they were pretty sure there was a specific way they needed to be administered. But the way stimpacks worked, would it matter…?

They remembered that when they got booster shots, it always went into their shoulder…

Without giving themselves any more time to think about it, they jammed it into their arm, gritting their teeth, but once it was out the burning sensation faded away. They didn’t feel great, but they did feel better. Better-ish, they corrected themselves, as their stomach started acting up again.

They hated radiation. They didn’t even like Nuka-Cola that much.

That done with, they felt their cheek again. It still felt raw, but it hurt less, so they carefully applied a bandage over it, and after that they picked up the first aid kit and stuffed it in their bag.

The bag had a couple holes, now, and bleached spots where the rain had touched it, but it looked otherwise okay. Hopefully the food--no, the rations were still go--edib--hopefully they weren’t ruined.

The storm still raged on outside, and Frisk stared at nothing in particular as they listened to the awful, awful rain. A single drop had hurt so bad. Anything actually out in it… Anyone out in that storm…

Frisk’s shoulders shook, and they sat there for a long while.

…

When they were done, the rain was still there, and so they stood, wiped their hands off on their legs, and walked further into the vault.

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While they walked, Frisk fiddled with their Pip-boy. It was big and bulky and heavy on their arm, but they couldn’t deny it was a neat machine. They felt like they’d be able to tell if they broke their arm, but being able to see on the screen where and how it was broken would probably be useful for a doctor overseeing them.

Frisk Friedmont

S: 2

P: 4

E: 1

C: 6 (+1)

I: 4

A: 6

L: 7

The idea of having stats was still silly to them.

There were other things it could do, but none of them were particularly useful at the moment, and so they ended up messing with the radio.

“-*kzzt*- Like a tunnel that you follow to a tunnel of its own, down a hollow to a cavern where the sun has never shown -*kzzt*-”

It wasn’t working well and kept breaking off into static, which was probably because they were underground? Right? But eventually they stopped receiving anything at all. All they were getting was garbage noise.

The vault was… creepy. It wasn’t just that they were alone, though that didn’t help; pipes leaked steam just as they passed by, vents rattled, and more than once they swore they heard footsteps only to find no one was there. The lights overhead hummed at just the right frequency to give them a headache.

A room on their left was labeled “Nursery 1,” but it has clearly never actually been finished. Instead, it looked like it had been used as a makeshift office. The computer wouldn’t turn on, but papers laid on the desk included a map of what the vault was supposed to look like.

It looked like it was going to be huge, taking up most of the mountain almost. Enough room to house all of Bellome, huge underground farms big enough to feed them all, theaters, a school…

Looking at it, Frisk had to wonder if they’d have been able to finish in time even if they hadn’t canceled construction.

The computer flickered on with a hum, then just as suddenly shut itself off. Frisk made themselves scarce.

Could a place be haunted if no one’s died there yet?

Oh no, what if someone did die and that’s why they stopped building?

Moving further in, the halls became less finished. Places where the grate floor hadn’t been fully installed, requiring them to jump across, or where the lights weren’t up yet.

Walking down the first flight of stairs they’d come across so far, they came to a door at the bottom and opened it up.

They looked down into pitch blackness.

…

Frisk’s eyes opened wide in shock. Carefully, they reached out with their stick, waving it to see if this was some kind of curtain or something. It was not. Looking to the side Frisk saw the edge of the tunnel, where metal had been shorn away. Finally, they slowly, slowly got on their knees and waved their hand where the floor should have been. There was nothing but air.

That’s a pretty good reason to stop, I guess, they thought numbly.

A chill blew up from the cavern below, and Frisk shivered, though whether it was from the cold or something else they couldn't say.

The radio on their arm garbled something at them, and they back up the stairs slowly, not willing to look away from the void underneath them, until their back hit something solid.

Confused and startled, Frisk whipped around to see what they’d hit, but saw nothing but the stairs. And yet, trying to climb had them running into thin air. Frisk raised their left hand and placed it on the invisible wall, and the air shimmered when they touched it.

“No…”

They pushed against the air, to no avail. They couldn’t feel anything, not even pressure, but nevertheless they simply couldn’t move past it. They tried to hit it, and nothing happened. All they felt was a force pushing them back, like pressing into a balloon.

They were trapped on the stairs, with nothing below them, and nothing keeping them from moving on,

Frisk panicked, and tried to throw themselves against the barrier, and bounced off. Their feet slipped out from under them on the steps, and they had only a second to realize their mistake before they fell.

Down and down and down.

Blackness all around them, darkness so profound that even the light from their Pip-boy was smothered out.

And down and down and--

A flash of yellow, and then they lost consciousness.

…

Oh boy, oh boy. Here we go again…