From Under the Ground (1/1)

caprelloidea:

Summary: The year is 2152, eighty-five years after the
world’s devestating nuclear war.  Killian
Jones is a scribe for a not-quite-so-very-legal excavation (read: scavenging) team.  In which he discovers a stash of audio logs
that he believes are from the 2080’s, and finds himself rather enamored with
the voice of a woman called Swan.

Rated: T

Warnings: Language

Words: ~13k

Notes: Inspired by this post.  Title borrowed from this song.  Much love to @seastarved​ for beta-ing this
mess!

Also on ff and ao3

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Red Hook, 4 May 2152, 8:00AM

At precisely eight in the morning, as he notes in his log, Killian Jones stands just outside his home on the edge of camp. It’s not much, a cottage of sorts – or a shack, really, compared to the homes he’s seen in books from years past – but it’s home and work nonetheless. He’d even managed to put a coat of paint on the slats, the sort of pale blue that reminds him of humid days on the coast, horizon pale behind the fog. He’d found the dented can of paint on one of his solo runs to a decrepit supermarket just across the river in Kingston. The label on the side, peeling and faded with time and war and the sort of forgetfulness brought on by both, had assured him only one coat would put his home in a brilliant shade of forget-me-not, whatever the bloody hell that meant. The can had given his Geiger counter a bit of trouble, much to David Nolan’s displeasure, suggesting the paint inside was a just a bit irradiated –

“Jones, you’re going to irradiate yourself straight to hell.”

“The expression, I believe, is no one asked you, Dave.”

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