Mutually Assured Destruction || Yandere!Soulmates X F!Reader

Question For You

You were sitting in Fort Valiant's schoolhouse when it happened. Again. The teacher was droning on and on about the Great War, the one that ended in nuclear armageddon and thus created the wonderful world around you.

You weren't the oldest one in the room, but you certainly weren't the youngest either. The desks were mostly full of ten- to twelve-year-olds. The eldest student sitting in on this lesson was Gibson Sr, who raised his hand to ask questions a lot and took fastidious notes that he didn't mind sharing.

Education in the post-apocalypse was tricky. Some kids had more learning under their belts and some had none. You had been taught basic math and how to read and write growing up, but time spent at the farm or the firing range was deemed more important than history.

"What happened to your hands?" Your desk buddy whispered, about as quietly as a child her age could manage. It didn't matter, though. The teacher had his back turned, facing the chalkboard instead of the class, and his voice raised.

You got asked that question a lot, usually by children and usually only once. But your desk buddy for today was Cindy, a tiny --likely malnourished-- brunette whose parents traveled all the way here from Amityville, searching for a better life. She hadn't asked yet.

Until now.

Usually you made a show of looking down at your hands in horror and screaming, which prompted the kid to start screaming as well.

It annoyed the shit out of the parents, but it had quickly become a running joke with the local kids. They would snicker to themselves or start screaming too, just for the fun of it.

You couldn't do that this time, though. Not without completely disrupting the classroom. So, instead, you looked down at your hands, made a point of turning them over and examining them closely.

"What's wrong with my hands?" You asked as if confused, hoping she'd take a hint and drop the subject.

"You've got no pinkies!"

"Oh." No gold star for you, kiddo.

"What happened?"

"I was born without them."

"Oh..." She sounded disappointed, like she was expecting a grisly tale about how you chopped them off with a cleaver. You were just about to turn back towards the board when she followed up with, "How are you supposed to find your soulmate, then?"

Inside, your heart clenched, but, outside, you were the picture of nonchalance. You casually shrugged one shoulder. "Guess I don't have one. I was born whole."

"How do you know that, if you don't have any pinkies?"

"Sometimes you just know."

With that, the church bells started chiming. One... Two... Three... Four!

"Alright, everyone, that's all for today!" The teacher announced. "This weekend, I want you to consider why the doctrine of mutually assured destruction failed. Write down your thoughts and be prepared to share them on Monday. Class dismissed!"

You were one of the first ones out the door. And who else was waiting for you outside other than Garcia, leaning against the schoolhouse with her arms crossed. You didn't realize how tense you were until you laid eyes on her and felt your shoulders relax.

"Hello, mija," she said with a smile warm enough to melt beeswax. "How was school today?"

"Boring and pointless," you groused, scowling. "I don't know why you keep forcing me to go. It's not like knowing about the past is going to change it."

"Those that fail to learn from history are doomed to repeat it." You'd heard that quote before, but you couldn't remember who originally said it. "These lessons aren't a punishment. They're a chance for you to better yourself."

"But I'm already the best version of myself. I'm the best shot in town. Hell, maybe the whole county!" Ever since you won first place for sharpshooting at the county faire, you'd been bragging about it to anyone who would listen.

"And what about when you're old and wrinkled, huh? Your hands will shake and your eyes won't be so good. You need to plan for the future."

Honestly, you never planned on growing to a ripe old age. Raiders didn't just get to retire. Like a horse with a broken leg, they could only be put down. Was that true for reformed raiders, though? You didn't know. To be honest, though, you didn't know that such a thing existed until you up and became one.

"You want me to be a teacher?"

"Sure, why not? You're good with kids."

You'd had a lot of practice. Your old gang in particular had a penchant for taking children from the settlements they raided. Why? Simple. It was a sick form of recruitment. Kids were highly adaptable and made great soldiers. After all, who could kill a child?

"Plus, I don't think you've noticed, but the teacher's pretty sweet on you!"

"Really? I hadn't noticed." But you had.

Mr Stuwart was older than you, but not by much, and very... Attentive. With you more than his other students. He was always checking in with you, seeing if you needed any help, leaning over your desk, so close you could smell the sage people around here used to cover up the stink of sweat.

If Garcia caught your lie, then she didn't call you on it.

"Just think about it, okay? You're young, there's no need to rush, but... I think you would feel better if you had someone special in your life."

"I have you. What more do I need?"

You'd never had a mom before, but, if you did, you would've liked her to be like Garcia.

She just sighed though, her smile fading fast. "I won't be around forever, mija. And I'd like to leave you in good hands before I pass on to the great beyond."

Despite your age difference, you'd never thought you might outlive her. You didn't like the thought.

So you gracelessly changed the subject. "I'm hungry!" To your own ears, you sounded a little like a petulant child.

She looked at you for a beat too long before laughing and ruffling your hair. "We'll grab you a bite to eat on the way to the jail. I have a security risk I want your opinion on."