[Center][b]Royce/Summer - Sandy Coves Inn / Salem Clinic[/b][/center]

Royce waited for the designated woman to collect the requested supplies before idly following her out of the inn and towards the clinic. The woman introduced herself as Frieda, to which he replied with a simple “Royce”.

Summer propped herself up on one elbow to watch the Doctor rant about the greed of the wastelanders. “Oh...a vault-dweller,” she murmured with intrigue. She couldn’t help but feel a little bit sorry for Arthur as he dismissed Steve and went back to tending Summer’s injuries. “Your heart’s in the right place but I’m afraid the Commonwealth’s gonna fix that soon enough,” she rasped. Her gaze was unfocused and she seemed quite interested in twitching her fingers, focusing intently on them instead of the fussing that Arthur was doing to keep her comfortable. “Nevertheless, you at least have the common sense not to accept chems from someone who you don’t know. I think you’ll go far in life - at least, in your life on the surface.” She was rambling, most of it was conversational and coherent but she still slurred her speech from time to time. Summer fell silent after that, aside from the odd question of whether or not ‘The Big Guy’ was going to come back with the supplies.

Both Royce and Frieda entered the Clinic. Frieda began to eagerly converse with the Doctor, eventually moving towards the back of the church, Royce himself didn’t interfere with their conversation and instead averted his attention to the now lonesome woman resting on the makeshift bedding. He approached the woman asking: “Are you dying?” inquiring about how she was feeling.

Summer tilted her head to the side and stared Royce down. “Feels like it - but I’ll live,” she groaned wearily. “They’re mostly surface wounds and the ones that matter have been dealt with, I’m just-...trying to remain conscious until I know I’m not going to die of an infection in my sleep. You brought the antiseptic, right?”

“Yes. The doctor is discussing payment right now.” Royce paused, shooting a brief glance around the empty first floor and then over summer. “The five men outside Salem are your doing?” he wondered, by now kneeling beside her as they carried on their conversation.

Summer sighed, nodding. “Four, technically. Looted me for everything I had then left me for dead. Typical…” she spoke of it with such nonchalance that it felt like she was talking about a chipped nail instead of a serial killing. Then again, that might have been due to the sorry state she was in; it didn’t look like Summer was thinking straight anymore. “The worst part, the worst part….” she hummed thoughtfully, “is that research. My kit. All the shit I was working on earlier and they took it. Motherfuckers don’t even know how to read.” Whatever it was that Summer had lost irritated her to the point of reinvigoration. She practically snarled the last sentence and clenched her fists. Then she stared at Royce thoughtfully. “Wanna make some caps?”

Royce listened silently, the mention of research barely piquing his interest. He wasn’t exactly an expert when it came to technology of any form, let alone scientific research. After the brief pause the woman took to gather her bearings, and the mention of caps, it was more the sense of purpose that her offer entailed which interested him. With his lips still pursed, Royce eventually spoke: “You have no caps, you were robbed.”

Summer grinned mischievously. “I said I was robbed - I didn’t say WHAT they took. That being said, I can’t offer up much...just the opportunity to bash some skulls in and also dig into whatever else those chemheads have hoarded over the past few weeks. After all, it’s not as if I’m going to be in there demanding my share of the loot.” she gestured down to herself folornly, seeming much more awake than earlier. In fact, she even lifted herself up a little to lower her voice with the severity of someone who’s been double-crossed many times before. “But I want my fucking research. As much of it as possible. Big green dufflebag, full of machinery and notes. Bring that back to me and you can keep whatever else you find in there, but if I don’t get that fucking bag then don’t bother coming back at all.”

Royce could feel her anger and frustration seeping into her words. He replied, almost too eagerly: “Very well. I will find your research and bring it back.”

Summer smiled - all of that energy went into relief and she sank back onto her back again, shutting her eyes. “One more thing,” she spoke but it was barely more than a whisper. “Before you go, make sure those wounds are disinfected for me, will you? It doesn’t help to...to have an employer be dead before…” her voice trailed off meekly as she went limp, falling unconscious at long last.