They’d been through every floor, every room, of the Chryslus building, killing every super mutant and centaur they’d come across, and finally Key told Butch it was okay to start scavenging. They’d emptied their bags almost completely before they’d entered, keeping only stimpaks and extra ammo on them. 

Butch moved to one side of the room, while Key worked on the other side of the room, gently pushing Dogmeat out of the way every so often, digging through desk drawers, dropping any caps, chems or bullets he found into his bag.

Moving along the wall, he came across a row of shopping cart cages: a shopping cart tilted up, using the handle and front of the bottom rack as a sort of stand, and a second cart, with the rack, wheels and handle removed, and attached to the first cart with metal pieces on top, and held shut with a padlock. They were all empty and unlocked,and wrapped with barbed wire,  with dried pools of blood beneath them.

He couldn’t imagine being trapped in one of them, even after rescuing a couple people out of them before teaming up with Butch, who he called over.

"Yeah? What’s up?" Butch asked, walking towards him, moving carefully around the large holes scattered across the floor. 

"Come here," Key said, wagging a finger, motioning for Butch to come closer. Beside him, Dogmeat sat on his haunches, whining, bored at sitting still for so long. "Hush," Key said, staring down at Dogmeat, who glanced up at him pitifully.

"What’s up," Butch said, as he stopped to stand beside Key.

"Why don’t you get in one of these?" Key asked, pointing at one of the cages.

Butch took a step back. “Huh? What?” 

"Yeah, come on, it’ll be fun!" Key said playfully, his dimples his mouth as it curved into a smirk.

"Yeah sure, real fun," Butch said, "you’re crazy," he added, shuddering at the memory of getting trashed off vodka and scotch with Key at the Muddy Rudder, then accepting his suicidal dare of fighting a mirelurk with his bare hands. 

Key had laughed uncontrollably as Butch had wrestled the disgusting monster to the ground, bending at the waist and slapping his thigh as he cackled. He had drunkenly pulled out a pistol and fired an unknown number of rounds into the creature’s face when things got out of hand, and had then dragged him all the way to Dr. Preston to fix him up, but still, Key was crazy, and his idea of fun was crazy too.

"You’re no fun," Key said, his face twisting into a pout. Butch looked away, knowing if he didn’t, Key’s cuteness would defeat him, and he would find himself on his hands and knees, crawling into the filthy cage.

"I found a carton of cigarettes, should we take them?" He asked, changing the subject as he walked back to the desk he’d been digging through.

"Yeah, if there’s room" Key said, his voice whiny with disappointment and a slight hurt that he would deny, at being called crazy, as he wandered down a hall, the walls covered in empty frames- the art they had once contained long destroyed. "Those are always worth some caps,"

Butch frowned as he watched Key disappear around the corner, Dogmeat close behind. 

As crazy as Key was, he was sensitive, and seemed to take everything personally.  How he hadn’t died the moment he had stepped out of the vault, Butch would never know.

the end whoop