Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There's blood. On her hands, on her clothes, on the ground around her-- it mixes with the grease and oil and sweat, coating everyone in a thin layer, weighing heavy on them all. 

She was bleeding on the dirty ground, mud in her hair and teeth--

Not all the blood on her is her own. Not all the blood on her belongs to others. Gashes and cuts and bruises, entry wounds and exit wounds and the open wound where she'd pulled a broken knife blade from the gap in her leg armour.

She was running, running from everything around her, from the bullets, the bombs, the screams and cries of enemies and friends--

She's standing up, fighting for traction, her rifle raised against the enemy. She knows how to use a gun. She knows. She knows.

Bombs bombs bombs bombs bombs--

She's jumping from rooftop to rooftop. One misstep and she's dead. It's not like this is the first time she's done something risky.

Alone, confused, the sole survivor of an ambush, of a massacre, of a cave, a building, a vault--

She knows where to go. She knows the streets. The streets haven't changed. They'll never change.

She knew war. War never changes.

Her leg is going to give out on her, she knows. She's injured, she knows. Her lungs are filled with dust, she knows. Her glasses are almost broken, she knows. 

She'd be safe soon, she knew.

Chapter Text

Her heart refused to slow down. It had slowed in the pod. It would not slow down again. Pound pound pound pound pound The roaring of blood in her ears drowned out other sounds-- except in her right ear, where the sounds came in faded and distant anyway. She pushed her glasses higher on her nose. Have to tape them up again. Her hair was a mess, but when wasn't it? There were fresh wounds and grime on her, not enough to hide the old ones, not enough to cover the many scars and tattoos, not enough to hide the horror that was her face. Nothing will hide your past, you know--no matter how many designs you carve into your skin you'll never escape what came first--

She was heading out of the vault, out of the deathtrap, out of the underground hellhole. Giant roaches, skeletons, the corpses of her spouse and neighbours-- The elevator was rising, returning her to the surface.

Screaming. Light. The mushroom cloud, the wind rushing towards them, soldiers shouting to send the elevator down right then, the echoes of crying and begging from the surface. She shouldn't have looked. She shouldn't have watched the debris rush above her as the elevator descended. She knew them. She knew the civilians. She recognised some of the soldiers. She knew them.

The world was destroyed. The world was-- it was--

Delilah couldn't think. There were too many emotions and fragments of whole thoughts in her brain to process. She took a deep breath. Slow down, make a list. Make a list of what she knew.

"One. Nuclear detonations in New York and Pennsylvania, one nearby." She headed down the narrow trail, pausing as she stared at the skeletons and rusted out vehicles. You knew them. "Two." She fought off the rising feeling of dread. "Escaped to the Vault, took Nate and Shaun." She crossed the decaying bridge into Sanctuary Hills. "Three, Nate was shot in the head, Shaun was kidnapped. Four, woke up to a… a wasteland." She finished, stepping into the ruined street. There was a humming, or more of a metallic clanking nearby. She turned. That has to be another hallucination.

"Codsworth?" The robot couldn't be real. He couldn't have survived that long-- it wasn't possible.

"Mum? Miss Edwards, you've returned!" He was real.

"What happened?" She choked out, hating that her voice was going so quickly.

"What? Oh, you mean the state of the house? I'm so sorry you have to return to this, mum, but it's so difficult cleaning radiation out of the linoleum! And the car-- mum, the car! How do you polish rust?" Codsworth was wailing, and Delilah set a hand on his dome in the only gesture of comfort she could give.

"Codsworth, I need you to stay with me. They finally did it, didn't they. Destroyed everything."

"So sorry mum, it's just… it's been a long 200 years."

"It's all right. 200 years? That's how long?"

"Well, more approaching 210. Which means you're 210 yeas late for dinner! Will master Nate and young Shaun be joining us?"

"They're gone, Codsworth. Nate's dead, Shaun's stolen."

"What? Oh, you must be suffering another delusion. Come along, we can search the neighbourhood to locate them and put your mind at ease." Codsworth floated off down the ruined street. Delilah sighed and followed him through the houses, until he slowed to a stop, his cheerful chatter trailing off.

"They… they're really gone then, aren't they?" Codsworth said. "I'm so sorry, mum, I'm so sorry--"

"It's all right, Codsworth. Do you know where I can look?" She asked.

"The only other place I know of that has people is Concord. But the last time I went there, the residents threw sticks at me and I had to run home."

"I like these people already." Delilah muttered.

"Oh good, perhaps you will get along then? In the meantime I shall hold down the home front." His chipper demeanour was back, and Codsworth floated off to make his rounds, whistling.

"On to Concord then." Delilah said to herself.

Chapter Text

There was an old Red Rocket on the road, she remembered pumping gas there on multiple occasions. The couple who ran it would coo over Shaun and give her discounts on the candy.

There was a happy barking from nearby, and she turned to what looked like a German Shepherd bounding towards her, tail wagging happily. Never going to find that dog--

"Hello." She said, bending down to pet him. He licked her face. "That's the good thing about animals, then. You don't care if the ones petting you look like a truck ran over them." Delilah said flatly. Nate never cared what you looked like. "Do you know if there's tape or glue around? I can't see much without my glasses and they're falling apart again." She straightened up, following the dog into the store. He picked up a roll of old duct tape, offering it to her. She took it, working to repair her glasses. The dog ran outside, growling, and she turned to watch massive mole rats burst from the ground.

"Okay, what the fuck is that?" She shouted, grabbing her pistol and firing at them while pushing her glasses back onto her nose. One bullet into the brain, three beasts three bullets-- She shot three bullets, one for each rat. They fell to the ground. The dog began chewing on them. "So who's your owner? Someone around here?" She glanced around. There was an ugly two-headed beast nearby, and no other people in sight. "Now what?" The dog looked up at her, panting, tail wagging. "You want to come with me? I don't really feel like being alone." The dog barked, and ran in front of her as she began walking down the road again, and when she caught up to him he ran ahead, into old buildings and back to her, tail waving like a sail.

They headed farther into Concord--what used to be Concord-- and Delilah turned to the sound of explosions.

"That's always a fun sound." She said, raising her pistol. There was a group of people firing at a man on a balcony, who had some sort of laser rifle. A man who turned to her and began yelling was vaporised as Delilah took her cue to crouch down and hide from both the raiders and the man with the laser weapon. A firefight, an ambush, the faces of her brothers-in-arms staring at her, blood congealing on the ground, wounds wounds wounds--

There was a woman in front of her, focused on the man with the rifle, which meant she didn't notice Delilah coming up behind her and snapping her neck like a popsicle stick. Put the armour on. You'll look ridiculous and it won't fit at all but it's better than nothing, the voice in Delilah's head supplied. It was poorly-maintained combat armour and didn't cover her chest properly. It would work for the time being, and would probably stop some of the bullets. 

The woman had a rifle, and as Delilah picked it and the ammo up, it felt more right than anything else so far. A sniper in a tree. She was the sniper. She knew her job. She knew it well.

"Hello, baby." She muttered, loading the rifle and taking the spot the woman had occupied, pegging a few raiders as they ran past. The accuracy and range was poor, but it would work. 

The dog seemed to be enjoying himself, bounding around and ripping out throats like the adorable pup he was. Delilah was able to move closer to the building the man with the laser rifle was on, but she didn't feel confident in talking to him without being vaporised. She took aim and killed one of the two remaining, leaving a man to attempt running only to be hit with a laser. 

She watched as the man looked around for whoever was shooting as well. She stayed hidden until he went inside the building, which she now recognised as the Museum of Freedom. You were going to go there with Shaun and Nate-- Delilah headed inside, staying low to the ground. There were more raiders, of course, and she sent the dog forward to take down as many as he could while she took out the ones on the upper levels.

As she reached the third floor she could see lights on and hear voices. The dog ran into the room, barking happily, and Delilah took it as a safe sign. She stood up, avoiding slamming her head into the roof, and walked into the room after the dog. The man from the balcony was there, looking relieved.

"Man, I don't know who you are but your timing's impeccable." He said. "Name's Preston Garvey, Commonwealth Minutemen."

"Glad to help." Delilah replied, eyeing the others in the room as the dog greeted them.

"Well if that's true, we could use some more goodwill. As you can see, we're in a bit of a mess here." Preston said.

"Who are these people?" She asked. Civilians.

"Just folks looking for a new home. A fresh start. I've been with them since Quincy. Lexington looked good for a while but the ghouls drove us out of there. A month ago there were twenty of us." Preston said sadly. "Yesterday there were eight. Now we're five. It's just me, the Longs--Marcy and Jun, that's old Mama Murphy on the couch. And this here's Sturges."

"Hey." Sturges said.

"Ghouls? What are ghouls?" Not the things from folklore that live in graveyards.

"Wow. You really aren't from around here, are you?" Preston looked stunned. "Well, ghouls are… irradiated people. They're humans, but the radiation has changed them. Most are just like you or me. They look pretty messed up, but they're still just people. The ones I'm talking about, the radiation has rotted their brains. Making them feral. They'll rip you apart as soon as look at you. Anyway, we figured Concord would be a safe place. Those raiders told us otherwise. But we do have one idea." He said, smiling.

"Let's hear it." She said.

"Sturges. Tell her." Preston turned to the mechanic.

"There's a crashed vertibird up on the roof. Old school. Pre-war, you might have seen it. Well, one of its passengers left behind a seriously sweet goodie. We're talking a full suit of cherry, T-45 power armour. Military issue."

"That's some serious protection." Delilah grinned.

"Oh it gets better. Get the suit, you can rip the minigun right off the vertibird. Do that, those raiders get an express ticket to hell. You dig?"

"Minigun? Now we're talking." Delilah said. She'd used them before.

"I know, right? Only there's one hitch. Suit's out of juice. Probably been that way for a hundred years. It can be powered up again, but we're a bit stuck." Sturges said.

"I'll help if I can." Delilah told him.

"What you'll need is an old pre-War FC-- a standardised fusion core. A high-grade, long-term nuclear battery used by the military and some companies way back when. And we know right where to find one--" Preston said.

"But we can't get to the damn thing." Sturges cut him off, "It's down in the basement, locked behind a security gate. Look, I fix stuff. I tinker. Bypassing security ain't exactly my forte. You could give it a shot."

"Can't be too hard. I'll see what I can do." As long as terminals haven't changed much in 200 years.

"Well all right. Maybe our luck's finally turning around. Once you jack that core into the power armour and grab that minigun, those raiders will know they picked the wrong fight. Good luck." Preston said.

Chapter Text

Terminals hadn't changed much in 200 years. Delilah broke into the computer in under a minute, turning the security gate off.

"That's impressive." Sturges said as she stood up. She shrugged, turning to where the dog was sitting next to the woman called Mama Murphy.

"Hi." Delilah said, approaching her. "Is this your dog?"

"Nah, kid. That's Dogmeat, he's his own person. A free spirit. He followed you, huh? Must have seen something in you." The dog--Dogmeat-- licked Delilah's hand.

"Thanks." Delilah said hesitantly, heading back the way she came. On the ground floor there was an open security gate, and she headed through. Dogmeat bounded after her, tail wagging as she pulled the fusion core from its generator. The lights flickered as she headed up towards the roof.

The vertibird was solidly crashed, buried halfway into the roof with no chance of falling off the building. The suit was inside, slumped over in an eerie resting state. Delilah put the core in and turned the valve. It opened up and she stepped inside, fighting a quick sense of claustrophobia as it sealed her in. A metal coffin. 

The HUD glowed yellow, giving her a compass and the durability of the suit's pieces. She tested out the movement, leaning every which way and taking a couple steps, noting the increased effort required to initiate movement, but how the suit would carry through those movements automatically.

The minigun was in front of her, tilted downwards towards the street. There was a new pack of raiders, or more of the initial group, and Delilah took the minigun and pulled. It broke off into her hands and she jumped off the building, landing hard on the ground and expecting her legs to break. They didn't, the suit absorbing the shock and keeping her safe. She revved the minigun, letting it spin and fire on the raiders, mowing them down as she moved through the street. Just like the war. Only she had never been the one inside the suit. People she knew, heading through enemy streets, the clanking of the unlucky few chosen for the power armour--

There was a loud roar, and raiders were running from around a corner store from something. She very quickly realised what they were running from as a massive… thing rounded the corner. 

It looked like a lizard, but was twenty feet high with massive horns, massive claws, and too many teeth. It was too fast, too streamlined, and Delilah quickly spun the minigun, unloading as many rounds as possible into the thing before it reached her. Do not let it reach you. The voice supplied helpfully. Why not? Everything you knew is gone. It was on top of her, swinging an arm and ripping the suit's chest open, exposing the shell. Too late. 

It grabbed Delilah's arm, slamming her into the ground and there was a beeping from her back as the fusion core registered damage. Maybe it'd be better to let it end everything-- She punched upwards, knowing she broke bones in the beast's chest. Your brain may want death but you know better than to stop fighting, don't you? Dogmeat was at her side, tugging on the thing's arm, working to bite through its tough skin. As it pulled back to bite into the helmet she backhanded it, hearing the vertebrae cracking in its neck. She pushed it away from her as she stood, lunging for her minigun once more.

She could hear the blam blam blam of Preston's laser rifle, and the red beams hit the thing in the legs, crippling it. It roared once more, crawling towards Preston as Delilah backed up, still firing on the thing.

The beast lunged at Preston, claws outstretched towards him, intent on ripping him open. Delilah charged, slamming into it as Preston dodged, though it caught and sliced into his shoulder on its way to the ground.

"One more hit should kill it!" Preston shouted. She nodded inside her helmet, tossing the minigun aside as it ran out of ammo and she grabbed a shotgun from a raider's corpse, unloading both rounds into the thing's head. With a final screech it died, collapsing to the ground. Delilah was panting, fumbling with her helmet with hands that were still hers but also too big, and she threw the metal thing at the deathclaw.

"Holy shit, are you okay?" Preston asked worriedly. She turned to him, stunned.

"I think I should be asking you the same damn question-- by god you're bleeding everywhere you need a first aid kit." Delilah activated the release and climbed out of the suit quickly, pulling Preston towards where she'd seen a first aid kit on the wall earlier. There doesn't need to be more casualties. Not now.

"I'll be fine, it's not deep." Preston said as she sat him down on a bench, reaching for the antiseptic in the box. "You're going to have some serious bruises though."

"I've lived through worse. My face shows everyone I've lived through worse." Especially those cuts on your mouth. You're always smiling, whether or not you want to be.

"I did notice those." Preston said. He's not horrified?

"So what in the hell was that thing? And are there more, because if there are I'm going right back into the vault and never coming out."

"Wait, you're from one of the vaults? Oh, you're wearing the jumpsuit, of course you're from one of the vaults."

"Yeah, they couldn't be bothered to find me a jumpsuit that fits. 'Comfortable as well as sturdy!' Not unless you're under six-foot-nine." Delilah said flatly as she cleaned his shoulder.

"That would make you one of the tallest people I've ever met then. Uh, that thing you just killed--"

"We just killed. Don't start giving me undue credit, bud." She didn't look at him as she spoke.

"Fine. The thing we just killed is a deathclaw. And yeah, there's more of them. Mainly to the south, but there are still some all over."

"Well fuck me." Delilah snapped. "What the hell is going on here? If they'd told me my 200 year nap would dump me in the middle of this shit-hole I'd have just gone ahead and died in the apocalypse." She glanced at Preston as his mouth fell open. "What? Which part wasn't a good thing to say?"

"You're from… 200 years ago? How is that possible?" He looked impressed. Did he not notice the last part?

"Stuck us in a bunch of pods, got really cold for a bit. The terminals said it was a Vault-Tec experiment in cryogenic freezing." Delilah said as she wrapped bandages around his shoulder. He nodded.

"That's really cool, honestly. Oh shit, that was a pun." She snorted, standing up and helping Preston to his feet as well.

"I don't think I ever actually introduced myself. I'm Delilah Edwards." She shook his hand, smiling.

"Nice to meet you, miss Edwards." Preston told her. Miss Edwards-- the housewife/soldier/mother-- a beautiful home, medals and flags, a baby-- all gone, it's all gone, everything's all gone-- miss Edwards is gone, isn't she? She died in the apocalypse, she died in that vault, she died she's dead she's been dead, there's only you-- there's only you, Delilah, that's all there's ever going to be--

"Oh god don't call me that. Either call me 'you' or Delilah." She said quickly before her brain could derail completely.

"Can do. Thanks for helping us out, Delilah. If you don't mind one more thing, I think Mama Murphy knows where we can go that'll help us finally be safe." Preston said. Delilah nodded.

"Show me the way." She said.

Chapter Text

Mama Murphy had seen Sanctuary Hills in her vision, and the group of six people and a dog headed towards Sanctuary. Apt name at this point. Delilah took the power armour with her, carrying the ruined chest piece. Preston paused as he noticed the statue at the ruined bridge into the little neighbourhood.

"That's a minuteman statue. You know, Revolutionary War."

"More with your history, Preston?" Sturges said, passing him. Preston continued to look up at the statue with a mix of awe and hope on his face.

"If it makes you feel better, I know what you're talking about. And the fact that there's a group of people dedicated to protecting civilians at a moment's notice is honourable." Delilah said. Preston beamed up at her, heading across the bridge.

"There's an old workbench over here. If you can, help us get some water pumps and turrets set up?" Sturges said, rummaging through the tool shed. Delilah nodded, exiting the power armour and heading through the area, hauling as much scrap as she could back to the bench to be broken down. Better make a decent home for someone else. Better make sure these civilians don't end up dead. Better ignore the glaring issues with your state of mind.

"The cars will be an issue." Delilah said, eyeing the glorified metal shells.

"Oh, miss Edwards, you've returned! Does this mean your mission was a success?" Codsworth asked, approaching her. Miss Edwards, the--It's not the past, it's just Codsworth, it's just him--

"Hello. Yes, and I have a couple people who will be living here now." She replied. "I also have to give you an order-- don't call me 'miss' Edwards. Remove that from your list of names or whatever it is, please."

"Oh, of course mum! I do not wish to provoke unnecessary upset. If you will allow it, I shall assist you in any way I can, of course!"

"Can you find me a broom or shovel or something?" Delilah asked.

"I shall do my best, mum!" He said, heading off through the houses. Delilah continued looking at the cars, finally deciding to give the task of breaking them down to Sturges. 

There was a good spot for water purifiers in the river, but for the time being Delilah set up water pumps next to the sidewalk. A few sleeping bags and scavenged mattresses in one of the houses and a campfire next to the building would have to do for the night. She slid into one, very aware of how short it was compared to her, and ended up using it as a blanket instead. It was too cold out, too quiet, but the amount of stars she could see through a window lessened the issues somewhat.

In the morning she continued to work on setting up essentials for the people. Dogmeat followed her constantly, keeping close as she pulled the useful parts of a demolished home from the wreckage.

"I'm going to fix the bridge." She told the dog, "It's going to collapse at some point, and right now it's missing a side and part of the walkway. It's a glorified log." She'd probably need an actual carpenter to help her, she knew.

Delilah had found some old clothes that had either belonged to her or to someone about her size in her old house. The faded jeans and flannel shirt hung properly, and the tool belt, dirty pair of combat boots and knitted hat she'd found made her feel at home. She'd ditched the combat armour until she found a set that fit, and kept her rifle slung over her shoulder. She was feeling more and more in her element with each passing hour.

Sweeping was a good task, repetitive and didn't require other people. Delilah removed the leaves from her old house after removing the destroyed furniture. Sweep sweep sweep. The piles of leaves, the bits of dirt, the loose and broken tiles, the bits of animal droppings and bones could be removed, put into the street. If you put it back the way it was, maybe you can forget the world outside. She frowned as the thoughts came in. She removed the ceiling lights, dumping them into the 'Sturges please break this down' pile outside. Put up the curtains, doors and furniture just like it used to be. Of course, you'll have to look at Shaun's crib every day. She rolled up the mouldy rug, throwing it outside. You can hear it, right? Your baby? He's crying. He's alone. It's because of you, if you'd been the one to hold him in the pod you could have saved him. You could have saved both of them. You could have--

"Delilah!" She turned sharply, staring wide-eyed up at Preston. Why are you on the floor? Her face was wet, her shirt was soaked. You've been crying haven't you. He'd shut the door but left her the open wall to escape through.

"What? Did you need me to set up something? I can start work on scrapping the demolished house over there." She pointed out the window.

"You were having a panic attack. Or something."

"You saw that."

"I can leave if you want, I just wanted to bring you out of it before you hurt yourself." Preston said. She nodded.

"You can… you can stay. Thanks."

"No problem." He sat down on the old couch.

"You're not going to ask?"

"Why? It's not really my business."

"At least tell me what I was doing."

"Sitting on the floor, sobbing. I tried to ask you what was going on, you weren't responding." Preston said quietly.

"Shit." Delilah said. "I thought doing something like this would help, I really did. Turns out no matter what I'm trying to do, the faces of my dead husband and stolen son will haunt me."

"I'm sorry." Preston told her.

"Thanks. I really do appreciate it." Delilah said, turning to face him. "Can you help me out some more?"

"Seeing as so far we all owe you, sure."

"Help me scrap the demolished house. I don't think I want to be alone right now." Preston nodded, standing up and offering her a hand. She took it, once again towering over him.

"If we can… okay." Delilah muttered, climbing on top of the unstable wreckage of the house.

"Please be careful." Preston called. She gave him a thumbs up and then pushed part of the old roof off onto the ground. He's concerned.

"Supports are still pretty good. And by pretty good I mean they're rusted to shit but still standing. I'm going to kick the wall over, that's going to send this stuff down the hill." Delilah said.

"How are you getting off?" Preston looked anxious.

"Either by jumping or by sliding down with it." Delilah told him. She kicked the wall, breaking it apart and sending the pieces down the hill. The looser parts of the house followed and she jumped off towards Preston, turning to the building. "Ready to make Sturges' day?" She asked.

"Oh you know it." Preston grinned.

"I want… I want to fix this." Delilah said, turning the table back upright and setting the chair next to it properly. Preston was leaning against the counter.

"Make it more like how you remember?" He asked.

"Yeah. Maybe if I fix it up… I can't pretend nothing happened. I can't. No matter how much my brain tells me to." She kicked the counter savagely. A mouse fled from underneath it outside. "Who am I kidding? Nothing's going to fucking fix this, there's nothing I can fucking do to fix this-- why the hell am I still here I'm not getting anything fucking done-- god fucking DAMN IT--" She slammed her head against the wall and then resting her head in the dent.

"Hey, Del, it's okay. You're gonna be okay." Preston said soothingly.

"How the fuck will I be okay? I'm a fucking mess." Delilah said without moving.

"Yeah, sure. Can I touch you?" Delilah gave him a thumbs up and Preston set his hand on her shoulder. "I know this is confusing and scary and frustrating, believe me. I know you want to go back to how things were. And I wish I could help you do that. But I can't. Neither of us can. So we're going to have to work through it. One day at a time."

"You called me 'Del'." He let go of her.

"Should I not have?" Delilah turned to him slowly.

"It works. It's shorter, for one thing. Are you sure about working through my issues with me? Because I don't know what else I'm going to end up doing right now."

"I'm sure. We fought a deathclaw together, right? We're building a settlement together. Might as well stick together." Preston said. Delilah laughed. "So, do you want to fix your house or scrap it?" Delilah turned to the main room, thinking.

"I want to keep it. Not… not as an attempt at forgetting. I want to keep it and remember how the world was. Like a tiny slice of the past. Besides I spent long enough trying to figure out how to decorate the first time around I don't think I can do it again." Preston nodded and they headed into the old bedroom to keep working.

The bed frame could be broken down into easily-moveable pieces inside the house. The old dresser had to go as well. The open wall made it easier to set stuff outside, and as Sturges walked by to collect scrap the two pushed half the bed frame out the window towards him.

Delilah stood the armchairs up properly as Preston began making a list of items they'd need. Bed frames and mattresses ranked high on the list, followed by light bulbs and circuitry.

"Marcy has some knowledge of electrical stuff. Sturges can help with that as well." Preston said. "If we can get some crops going, I'm sure we can force Jun into dealing with those." Delilah nodded, pointedly avoiding Shaun's room. "Do you want me to go in and see what's trashed?" She sighed, shaking her head. As Preston walked into the nursery Delilah took his arm, staring at the room.

"There was a tricycle for when he was big enough. We were going to teach him how to ride early on. He had a little teddy bear he loved." Delilah said, moving through the room. "His rub had rockets on it, his crib had a working mobile." She pushed the remnants of the rocket mobile. "It played music. Nate had found the silliest socks he could for Shaun, ones with ducks and flowers and airplanes in all sorts of colours. I'd told him not to waste money on stuff he'd outgrow, but… Nate convinced me after he found ones with kittens." She laughed bitterly. "And here I am. Telling you everything."

"It sounds wonderful. You love your husband, don't you?"

"Yeah. He told the worst puns, always trying to wind me up. Height jokes were his favourite, he'd ask me to get the milk from the top shelf of the fridge all the time. He was… imminently loveable. Had a keen eye for details, could tell if someone was lying easily, could remember so many different things. He was a lawyer for a reason, definitely." Preston picked up discarded blocks, arranging them on an intact shelf. She glanced at him as he did so.

"I think you two would get along really well. You both see the best in everyone." She said. They're both working to save you from yourself. Whether or not they both realised it. Only question is-- are you willing to allow it a second time?

Chapter Text

"Preston." Delilah said. He turned, smiling at her.

"Hey. I know this is going to be kind of sudden, but… the minutemen need a general. Someone to lead them. Before you suggest me, I'm not leader material. I can lead small groups, but not an army, and not a bunch of settlements. I think you could, though." He said.

"That's a huge responsibility you're just throwing my way. How can you believe I'm trustworthy enough?" Delilah sounded incredulous.

"You helped us out in Concord, right? You didn't have to. And then you went ahead and stitched me back up even though you should probably have checked your own wounds first. You helped us get to Sanctuary and you stuck around to help rebuild it. You've got a good heart, I think you have what it takes." Preston reassured her.

"Is there really no one else to do it?"

"I'm technically the last active Minuteman. There's no one else left."

"All right. As long as you stick around, be my lieutenant or whatever, I'll do it." Delilah said. "I've led soldiers before, I can do it again." The last part was more for herself than for Preston.

"Thanks. General." Preston looked relieved. "I have something else for you to do. There's been word from Nordhagen Beach, they've got some problems with raiders. You need to go check it out."

"Look, I'm keeping the dog with me. But I don't have the faintest idea where that is. Mind coming along, show me the way?" Delilah asked. Preston nodded.

"Can do, Delilah. Lead the way."

It was getting dark as they reached the bridge into Boston. The glow from fires and electric lights across the river caused an eerie atmosphere. The whole area was silent, with no one in sight.

"This is so weird. I remember the streets being full of people and cars. They're still full of people and cars, it's just the cars are trashed and the people are dead." Delilah said, stepping over a fresh corpse. Dogmeat was sniffing around the alleys and Preston was behind her.

"Coming from the opposite perspective, I can't imagine the streets looking like that, not unless there's a battle. It sounds… peaceful."

"It wasn't peaceful at all, but it was calm. Safe. You'd do your own business, talk to store owners, go about your day. Sometimes it'd be hectic, sometimes you'd hear about or see muggings, but those were pretty rare." Delilah followed Preston into an old store, unrolling her sleeping bag next to his.

"Did anyone ever try to mug you?" He asked as he began opening old cans for their dinner.

"Once. Little shrimp of a guy, pulled a knife on me and demanded my money. I looked him in the eye, which means I stared down at him, and I asked him what he was doing. He said he was taking my money. I didn't give him any, I just asked him why. The kid broke down, said he was so fucking broke and his family was going to be evicted. His mom was a recovering alcoholic working two jobs, his dad worked in a factory, and he and his sister were just trying to balance out the bills." Delilah said, taking a can of pork 'n' beans carefully. 

"I took him back to his home, met his mom who was furious her son had sunk that low, and I ended up going grocery shopping with the mother and the guy who tried to mug me, so that expense would be taken care of that time."

"Wait, you helped the guy who attacked you?" Preston seemed impressed.

"He was half my size and had a combat knife. I'm a soldier, I'm 6'9'', I've fought guys with machetes, a little knife is not going to scare me. Yeah, I helped them. It was just a kid who was trying to help his family. Made the wrong decision, could have ended badly for him, but it didn't. So I got Nate to look into the leasing on apartments and other housing. The main realtor-company-thing was run by what were basically loan sharks." She glanced at Preston for any confusion. There wasn't any. What the hell is this world like then?

"Nate got them in hot water, took his buddies in the law firm up against the company and they were shut down, all the CEOs and shit got put behind bars for breaking the law. Mainly for fraud, embezzlement and completely disregarding zoning and code, but they were put away." They're dead now. Long dead. Burned away by bombs and bullets.

"All these things, they make the pre-War world seem so…"

"Perfect? Good? Clean? Trust me, it wasn't. Corrupt officials, failing communities, it was no utopia by any means. Most people had enough, sure, but there'd always be people who didn't. There are always people without enough." Delilah finished thoughtfully, trailing off while mashing her pork 'n' beans with a dirty fork.

"It sounds better than it is now."

"I'll take your word for it. The radiation, raiders and absolute monstrosities we've dealt with make me think you're right, but I'm trying to withhold judgement for now." She said. Preston snorted.

"The Commonwealth is full of awful people and innocents. It just seems like there are more awful people sometimes." Preston said. Dogmeat came into the building and Delilah shared the rest of her dinner with him. She watched as Preston stood up, heading for the door. "Someone needs to keep watch overnight. I can take first watch."

"All right. Wake me up around midnight or so." Delilah said, sliding into the sleeping bag. Dogmeat curled up next to her as she went to sleep.

Chapter Text

It was cold. The area was too quiet, too dark. Delilah had switched out with Preston, and she sat in the broken window, watching for movement. Across the river there were shots being fired. She looked through the scope of her rifle, watching a pack of raiders running along the waterfront, shooting at something. She lowered her rifle, glancing back at where Preston was asleep. He'd set his hat right next to his face and leaned his musket against the wall. Dogmeat was keeping an eye on him as well. He's peaceful. He's good? He can't be older than twenty two-- how fast do children have to grow up here?

There was an explosion across the river, a yellow fireball rising behind the buildings. Delilah could smell the acrid smoke from her perch, and it sounded more and more like a war in between the buildings with every passing minute. Familiar territory then.

"What's going on?" Preston was awake.

"Explosions, gunfire. Is this normal?" Delilah asked.

"Yeah. But I am thinking it's maybe time to move. Before whatever they're shooting at over there comes over here." Preston said, putting his hat on.

"Did you get enough sleep?"

"I've run on less." He said. Delilah nodded to him as he packed up his sleeping bag and slung his pack on his shoulders. She grabbed hers and they headed along the riverfront away from the fighting. Dogmeat ran ahead of them, searching for any enemies.

"If we keep heading east we'll make it to Nordhagen Beach by dawn. As long as we avoid any unwanted attention." Preston said. Delilah nodded.

The buildings they passed under were tall and silent. Shells. Shells of what used to be-- they are the sentinels now, of the monstrosities this world holds. Delilah was surprised the voice was such a poet.

"It's always eerie coming through here. You'd expect there to be… I don't know, something. People? Little camps throughout here?" Preston said.

"You keep mentioning Quincy." Delilah said. "I don't know what that is."

"Huh. I thought it would be common knowledge by now. Or, no-- not for you, sorry. Quincy was… basically the last stand of the Minutemen. It was a town being plagued by Gunners-- a mercenary band. They'll take any job, no matter how dangerous, difficult or downright immoral. Anyway, they called for the Minutemen to help. We were… I was under Colonel Hollis' command. Our group was the only one that showed up. It was a massacre. One of our own opened the gates to let them in. Hollis was killed and I took a group of survivors and ran." Delilah stopped, eyeing Preston. "I led them across the Commonwealth, all the way up through Lexington into Concord looking for a new home. You saw how that turned out. Ghouls, gunners, raiders-- even had a few super mutant encounters along the way."

"I know what it's like. To lose so many people." Delilah said softly.

"Yeah. It's just, you expect it to get easier, you know? To not feel the loss so strongly? I mean, this is the Wasteland, nothing's easy or safe out here. But you get attached to people. You care about them. And then you lose them."

"It's not wrong to care about people, Preston. It's human." Delilah said. He nodded. "You got the survivors to safety. You saved the Longs, Sturges and Mama Murphy, didn't you? You found them a home."

"Thanks to you. If it weren't for you we'd be dead." Preston said.

"But you did the legwork. Don't sell yourself short."

"I lost so many people under my command." Preston told her. She put a hand on his shoulder.

"There are bodies in the Vault. There's a flat area to bury them. We'll set up a little memorial to them. To everyone you've lost." Delilah said.

"To everyone you've lost as well." Preston looked up at her, smiling.

"We can do this."

Nordhagen Beach was a single shack and farm, with trash and junk scattered around in the sand. Delilah headed up to a woman working in the crops.

"Excuse me, did you request assistance?"

"Did the Minutemen send you?" The woman asked, standing up and turning to her.

"Yes, I'm here to help. What's the problem?"

"There's a group of raiders that won't leave us alone. We can't take them out on our own, and I'm pretty sure they're going to take more than just crops soon."

"I'm on it, don't worry." Delilah told her. Preston was beaming.

"They're over in Boston, in the East City Downs. About twenty of them." She said.

"Sometime we should get someone who isn't a sniper." Preston said. He and Delilah were hiding behind a building watching a pack of robots run along the old horse track. Dogmeat was sniffing around for anything useful, and all that could be seen of him was his tail wagging above an overturned crate. "Although I would like to stay and see which one wins."

"I've always meant to come here. They had discounts on some of the horse races sometimes. Brought the price down from exponentially high to still too high for anyone normal to afford."

"Well now's your chance." Preston said, grinning. She nodded.

"What are the different robots? I recognise the Mister Handys, and I think those are Assaultrons. Is that a Protectron?" Delilah said, pointing.

"The floating round ones are Eyebots." Preston told her.

"All right. I was never around the units with Assaultrons, they were always more recon duty. Protectrons used to stand in for mall security and everything. Construction workers, police units, subway stewards, some could perform medical services." Delilah said as they moved out from cover towards the next building.

"That sounds amazing. Now they're just reprogrammed to mercenary gangs or deactivated random places."

"Isn't that just like the rest of the world." Delilah muttered. "If we can take out those spectators without being seen, we can--" Delilah stopped as Dogmeat ran at the raiders, attacking them. "Well that's a great turn of events." The two ducked behind a third building, with a line of sight towards the raiders trying to fight off the dog. Delilah shot one in the head, the one Preston shot disintegrating.

"There's someone else here-- search the area!" A man shouted. Delilah began climbing the wall up into a makeshift announcer's booth. A man in a patched suit was there with his back to her, his focus on Dogmeat. Delilah shot him in the back of the head. The terminal wasn't locked, and after scanning the options she switched the robots' combat inhibitors off, listening as the robots began attacking the raiders.

She dropped off the narrow set of stairs in front of Preston as he dispatched a raider running towards Dogmeat.

"Congratulations." She said. "Don't know what I'm congratulating you for, now that I'm actually thinking about what I'm saying." Preston snorted.

They were passing the shell of a convenience store.

"Oh hey, can we stop? I need to pick up more toothpaste… for Nate…" Delilah stopped in her tracks, her gaze unfocused. She sat down abruptly. And so your sins come back in full force. "They're gone. Why didn't I realise they're gone. I've been wasting time."

"That's a normal part of the grieving process, Del."

"I'm grieving. Didn't even realise. What a good wife and mother I am." Preston sat down next to her. "They're gone. Nate's dead, Shaun's kidnapped. And I've been fucking around pretending the only thing that happened was the world exploding. Fuck." Traipsing around without a care in the world--

"So how would you have tried to find them? No leads, no tracks. It's not your fault for doing this."

"If I were a decent mother I'd search the whole damn Commonwealth. I'm not. I'm sitting in the street unloading more problems onto the most generous person I've met so far." If you loved your husband you'd have buried him by now. If you loved your son you'd have found him by now. If you'd died instead of Nate everyone would be better off--

"You can't search the whole Commonwealth. Even if you could, it'd be pointless. It'd take months. Maybe years. I can't give you a solid direction to head in, but I know someone who can." You're going to cry again. In front of him. You're a mess. Preston gripped her shoulder in an effort to ground her. She leaned into his touch.

"Who?"

"Mama Murphy. I know, I know, I don't like chems and I don't like chem addiction. But if you want to find your boy I can put aside my stance on it just this once." She turned to stare at him.

"You're really serious about helping me." Delilah said. His gaze lingers on you, you know. He's concerned. He's afraid. Are you?

"Of course I am. What's a lieutenant without a general?" He grinned. "And what'd Sanctuary be without you? I'm going to help you as much as I can. To help you find your family."

"Okay. Okay. Thanks." Delilah said, smiling. "Can I go in, though? I do need toothpaste." She stood up, giving Preston a hand up as well. It was dim and cool inside the store, the shelves nearly empty and trash covered the floor. There was a single tube of toothpaste, which she pocketed. As she passed the magazine rack she noticed an old colouring book. She picked it up, glancing at Preston.

"Do you know where I can get crayons?" She asked, holding up the book. He looked thoughtful.

"Not sure. I'll take a look if you want to make sure that's the one you want." She nodded, thumbing through the pages.

"I love colouring. It's like drawing with less effort." She said absently. "Had a whole stack of them. When I got them I said they were for Shaun. They weren't, I lied. They were for me. Got a box of pencils too, but I've always preferred crayons." She jumped as Preston tapped her shoulder, handing her a fistful of broken crayons.

"Best I could do. Sorry."

"This is perfect thank you." She said, taking them and looking through the colours. "All the primary colours, plus the secondary. Thanks." She grinned, pocketing them carefully, then tucking the book into her bag.

"So if there's nothing else you need, feel like heading back to Nordhagen?"

"They don't sell milk around here, do they?" Delilah grinned. Preston snorted.

"Nope. Newspaper delivery's also consistently late. Might need to rethink the subscription." Preston said.

"But I love late editions. It's always fun to read about 200 year old news. How irradiated do you think those gumdrops are?" She picked up a packet of candy.

"Not enough to kill you."

"Okay great." She threw them across the room. "If it doesn't have cancer-causing properties I want nothing to do with it." She linked arms with him, tugging him out into the street. Dogmeat ran up to them, offering Delilah a pack of gumdrops.

"Is this our Sunday evening stroll?" Preston asked.

"Absolutely. We'll take a nice walk around the block, punch a few neighbours, go back home and play a rousing game of checkers before bed-- it'll be great."

Chapter Text

"I want you to know-- just because I'm going to look for my son doesn't mean I'm going to stop helping the minutemen. Hell, I highly doubt the stars would align enough to make my search easy, it'll probably take months. So might as well help as many people on the way, right?" Delilah said as they crossed the bridge. Really need to find someone who can repair it before it falls down.

"You've got a good heart, Del. I knew I picked the right woman for the job." Preston beamed at her. Like the sun. The glow of the sun in his face. Radiant, light-- the voice was trying to be a poet again.

This whole world is disjointed and broken. Can't you see that? There's nothing here-- no order, no structure-- how do you think you can survive for long without that? You're a soldier-- but you're also a terrified little girl who can't keep living without some form of stability. You're floating right now, you know. You're drifting. And when you drift right onto the rocks there won't be anyone to help you.

"Mama Murphy?" Delilah asked. The woman was working on taking apart some of the old lights, and she smiled as Delilah approached.

"What do you need, kid?"

"You have visions, right?"

"Yeah. I need chems to see 'em, though.  Bring me some jet and I'll be able to see." Delilah offered her one of the many chems she'd found in the houses.

"Thanks kid. You've got such an energy around you, you know? You're connected to this place. I'm rambling again, lemme just…" She trailed off, inhaling the chem. Her eyes rolled back into her head as she spoke, "Diamond City holds answers, but they're locked tight. You ask them what they know, but people's hearts are chained up with fear and suspicion. But you find it. You find that heart that's gonna lead you to your boy. Oh, it's... it's bright. So bright against the dark alleys it walks. That's... that's what you need to do, kid. Follow the signs to the bright heart." She closed her eyes, breathing heavily.

"Are you okay?" Delilah asked.

"Yeah, the Sight just takes a lot outta me. I'll be fine, I just gotta rest. Take care of yourself, dear."

"Where's Diamond City?" Delilah asked. Preston didn't look up from where he was taking apart a filing cabinet in the ever-growing scrap pile. Delilah sat down next to him, picking up an old picture frame.

"To the south, in Boston. It's… dangerous, the farther south you go. The worse the radiation is, the worse the creatures are."

"So are you saying I need to stay put?" Delilah asked, the hint of a snarl in her voice. Preston looked up, concerned.

"No, I'm just saying it'd be a good idea to stock up on supplies beforehand." He's lying! You went to Nordhagen-- if he keeps you here he can keep using you to help his group! Chains and deals and agreements and boxes--

"Well I'm not interested in stocking up or preparing, I'm interested in finding my kid, and I'll be damned if your fucking vague half-assed warnings are gonna keep me from going after him! Seeing as we already went across the whole damn Commonwealth for your fucking beach settlement I'm really wondering if you're telling the truth seeing as all we came across were a few lobster monsters!" She snapped, and her face fell immediately as the words left her mouth. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." You've done it now, haven't you? You're beginning to show your true colours again. She lowered her head.

"You okay?" Drifting--

"No I'm fucking not." She could hear the whirr of Codsworth as he approached.

"Mum, if I may?" What does he want? Answers? Glory?

"What?" Delilah asked, frustrated.

"You do remember that I was equipped with therapy programs, correct? I don't mean to intrude or tell you what to do of course."

"I remember now."

"All right, mum. Carry on." Codsworth left, humming.

"I think he's worried about you."

"I think he's heard every breakdown I've had so far. Fuck." Delilah didn't look up. "Are you going to give me more advice?"

"No, I'm just wishing I had a screwdriver." She glanced at the cabinet.

"Adam head screwdriver, standard screws-- you'll need a prybar as well for the rails." She said.

"Do we have those?"

"Should. I'll go-- I'll go check." Delilah said, standing up and heading for the toolbox next to the workbench. She grabbed it and brought it back, flicking it open and handing him the screwdriver needed. "If it's not wanting to move don't force it. You'll just strip the insides and we'll have to cut the screw out. Where's the-- there's the hammer." She said, taking the claw hammer from the box and prying the frame apart. Pry your heart out through your ribs, bare yourself to the world, broken and bleeding and so, so, twisted--

"I've always been better at building and modifying weapons myself." Preston said.

"Makes sense. How hard is it to use one of the laser muskets?" She asked.

"It's not difficult, though I guess you'd need practice. It's a crank-action, turn the crank, charge the core, pull the trigger." Preston explained. "Sometimes I wonder if an automatic receiver would work on one."

"Wouldn't that be you pulling the trigger and cranking it continuously?" Delilah asked. She dragged a ruined armchair towards her with her foot.

"Probably not. Probably have to crank it a bunch, then the charge lasts for more shots." Preston tossed the pieces of filing cabinet aside, grabbing an old toaster.

"Please be careful with that." Delilah said quickly. Fork in the grill, drop it in the tub, electricity burning, shocking, freezing--

"Does it still have juice?"

"Probably not? It's an irrational fear." He nodded, but took care in dismantling it anyway.

Chapter Text

Delilah lay on the mattress in her house. She'd swept up the leaves and rubble and shoved the mattress against the wall where the bed had been. Once there was a bed, a chair, a dresser-- a resting place for two people in love-- She was staring at the ceiling without her glasses on, the darkness and textures making swirling shapes. She closed her eyes, rolling onto her side.

She woke up in a tent. The front lines. She was standing, grabbing her gear and running through the camp, past other soldiers towards a truck. The people faded from existence as she stood on one side of a desk, a man on the other. Honourable discharge. Get some help corporal, we'd hate to lose you. She came home with a trifold flag and a doctor's recommendation. She put her belongings away, leaving the house to go on a walk. A mushroom cloud rose above her, the people around her frozen in time. They didn't move, didn't react as the cloud rose higher and higher, the wind rushing towards them. There were parachutes above her, thousands of them. They looked like stars. Paratroopers incoming-- get the sharpshooters we have five minutes until they land! She had her rifle. She was sitting on a truck, shooting other humans out of the sky like they were cans on a fence. She shoots so casually, you know? Like it's just another day. She'd never hear the screams or shouts of fear, never hear cries of pain and loss, never know how it felt to watch your comrades hurtle to the ground, holes in their parachutes. She knew, though. Maybe it'd have been better to know what they truly sounded like. That way your brain wouldn't make it up. She was sitting under an awning outside a sub shop. Calm, collected. Eyeing the passers-by. She had a pistol in her belt. She was eating a sandwich. The mushroom cloud was in the distance. Rising, rising, always rising.

Delilah woke up, opening her eyes quickly. She glanced around. The room was dark, the only light coming from the stars outside the open wall. Like paratroopers, hurtling through nothingness until-- She sat up stiffly, putting her glasses on. Broken glass, broken frames, a friend helping to tape them back up-- She rubbed the wedding rings on her hands absently. Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded-- The gold bands were simple and undecorated. They'd picked them out after he'd proposed to her. I do. She stood up, heading outside and staring up the hill towards the Vault. There's nothing in there for you anymore.

She'd forgotten to put her shoes on. Her toes were cold and her bare feet slapped the pavement softly as she walked. Where will you go? To find an army? To find weapons? She stopped at the bridge.

"Make a list." She muttered. "What do I need to get to Shaun-- no, what do I need to survive the southern part of the Commonwealth in order to find Shaun?" She glanced around. "One, someone to watch my back. Two, weapons. Three, armour. Four, a map." She glanced down at the pip-boy on her arm. "I have a map." She turned it on, flicking through the options until she found the map. It highlighted the entire Commonwealth, giving everywhere she'd been small icons. She smiled, scrolling around the display. Concord was a small icon with buildings, Red Rocket was a little rocket, and Sanctuary had the Minutemen statue. She flicked the dial once more, glancing at the list of major settlements. Goodneighbor, Nordhagen Beach, The Slog, Diamond City. She selected it, and the map plotted a course across the Commonwealth to her destination.

"That'll come in handy."

"I've gotten word of a good spot for a new settlement. Know what the best part of it is? It's in the middle of Boston. Close to Diamond City." Preston said. "Want to go help me out again?"

"I am the general, aren't I? Let's go." Delilah told him. He slapped her on the shoulder as they headed across the bridge once more, Dogmeat running after them into the twilight.

Chapter Text

"Cambridge will be around here, we need to head through it on the way south." Preston said as they picked their way across a collapsing bridge at dawn.

"How soon do you think we'll get to-- what the fuck is that?" Delilah asked as a shrivelled… human… crawled out from under a truck. 

"That," Preston said, "is a feral ghoul. And there will be a lot more of them, so unless you have grenades or fancy a firefight--" The ghoul spotted them and shrieked. "Well shit." Dogmeat charged forward as the two humans readied their weapons. Delilah took careful aim, only firing when she was sure she could peg them in the head.

"We need higher ground--" Preston said, cutting himself off as he spun to fire on a ghoul trying to jump him. Delilah scrambled up the side of the truck, grabbing Preston by his coat and hauling him up after her. "Thanks." He said.

"Don't thank me now." Delilah replied, taking aim once more. She glanced up at the covered bus station, jumping from the truck onto the roof, the old metal creaking under her weight. She turned, taking aim at a group of ghouls as they ran up from what looked like an old police station. There are people there, that's where explosions are coming from--

"The police station's inhabited." Delilah stated as she shot down more ghouls.

"See if you can pick anything up on the radio!" Preston told her as he kept ghouls from climbing the truck. She turned the dial on her Pip-Boy.

"There's a military frequency." She said as she turned it on. A message from a 'Brotherhood of Steel' group requesting reinforcements at the police station. "What's the Brotherhood of Steel?" She asked. Dogmeat had reappeared, ripping into more ghouls.

"Oh god, are they here now? Bunch of assholes who pretend to care about the people. They just want to hoard technology from people who could use it." There was a loud scream from down the street. Bodies on the ground, smoke in the air-- the civilians screaming as they're gunned down-- the soldiers falling left and right-- the screaming oh god the screaming--

"They're in the police station." She said.

"Sounds like they're in over their heads, doesn't it?" Preston said.

"Do we go around and leave them?" Delilah asked. "Please don't tell me we're doing that."

"Fuck no. We go in and save them, because it's our job." Preston said, shooting down the last of the ghouls nearby. She nodded, jumping off the bus station and running towards the police station and more of the ghouls. Always the first into danger, aren't you? Better you than them. Preston followed, taking point as Delilah climbed another truck to get above the ghouls. There were ghoul corpses everywhere, and she watched a man in power armour get jumped by one, throwing it off of him like a toy. She took aim and fired as another one attempted to land on him, and Preston disintegrated one charging people near the door. 

Delilah jumped off the truck, heading towards the man in power armour. He turned to them, suspicious.

"We appreciate the assistance, civilian. What's your business here?"Soldiers. They're soldiers.

"Name's-- I'm Corporal Delilah Edwards of the United States Army, heard your transmission and heeded your request to provide cover fire. You?" Delilah said, slipping halfway into her soldier attitude. Two counts of insubordinate behaviour and disobedience. A lifetime of dirty looks and reprimands for bad jokes and flippant attitudes.

"I'm Paladin Danse, Brotherhood of Steel. Over there is Scribe Haylen and Knight Rhys. Are you from a local settlement?"

"Are all the questions really necessary? I did just help fight off ferals." Delilah said. He didn't look happy.

"This would be easier for both of us if you'd cooperate. Where are you from?"

"I'm from Sanctuary Hills, on the other side of Concord."

"I've seen the location on our maps but never visited myself. If I appear suspicious, it's because our mission's been difficult, civilian. Since the moment we arrived in the Commonwealth we've been constantly under fire. If you want to continue pitching in, we could use an extra gun on our side."

"Still not a civilian, Paladin. I'm still a corporal."

"Unless you're pre-War you're lying."

"I'm pre-War then."

"That's not possible." Danse looked annoyed.

"Tell it to Vault-Tec, they're the ones cryogenically freezing people." Cold, so cold, the bodies of your neighbours, they didn't die in their sleep did they? Metal coffins in neat rows, slowly losing oxygen, world fading to darkness deep underground with no one to hear them, no one to save them, no one to remember them--

"If that's true. Who is your companion?"

"Preston Garvey, Lieutenant of the Commonwealth Minutemen." Preston said proudly. Danse didn't seem impressed. "You're also speaking to the General of the Minutemen."

"The Minutemen are a pack of disorganised rabble." He said flatly.

"Really know how to make a good first impression, don't you?" Delilah muttered. Danse glanced at her. Yes, piss off the heavily-armed and armoured man. That's truly the best course of action.

"First impressions are not a priority. However, aid is. I require assistance with my current mission, and I believe you to suit my requirements."

"Oh good, I love being the errand girl." Delilah said.

"Do not take my request lightly, this assignment is imperative." The assignment is to see if we can wind him up. If we can get him angry, will he simply shout or will he attempt to deal blows?

"All right, but you owe me an explanation first."

"Fine. We're on recon duty but I'm down a man and our supplies are running out. I've been trying to send a distress call to my superiors, but the signal's too weak to reach them."

"Sir, if I may?" Haylen said.

"Proceed, Haylen."

"I've modified the radio tower on the roof of the police station, but I'm afraid it just isn't enough. What we need is something that will boost the signal."

"General, may I have a word?" Preston asked. Delilah turned away from Danse.

"What is it?"

"I think it'd be a good idea to assist him. If only to figure out what the Brotherhood is doing here."

"All right. You take Dogmeat and keep heading for Hangman's Alley. I'll meet you back here, got it?" Delilah said.

"I can do that. Stay safe, okay?" Preston told her.

"As long as you do the same." Delilah said. He nodded, heading off with Dogmeat. She watched them disappear into the twilight--and if you don't see them again?-- and then turned back to Danse. "So, what am I doing?"

"Our target is ArcJet Systems. It contains the technology we need-- a deep-range transmitter. We infiltrate the facility, secure the transmitter and bring it back here. What do you say? You willing to lend the Brotherhood of Steel a hand?" It's not like there's anything else you can do right now. "Haylen, take Rhys inside. Bind his wounds."

"Yes, sir." Haylen helped Rhys up carefully.

"Rhys, once you're up, I want you to make sure the perimeter's secure."

"I'm on it." The other man said.

"All right, civilian. It's time to prove your worth. Head into the police station and resupply yourself, then see me when you're ready to begin. Let's move out." He headed into the police station. Delilah followed, staring suspiciously at his back. Shoot the fusion core! Shoot it now! You have the chance, see what happens! She ignored the idea, glancing around inside the run-down building.

There was a crate of .308 magazines she took, stuffing them into her belt pouches. She grabbed a few more stimpaks and walked up to Danse.

"Ready."

"Outstanding. Follow me, and try not to lag behind." He said putting his helmet on. Now he's just a suit of armour. There's no person in there anymore. Danse left the police station, Delilah following. "We'll head down this alley. ArcJet is to the west. We head down this road, we should be able to avoid the larger packs of ferals. Getting that transmitter working is our top priority." Danse said. They ran down the broken street, past rusted-out cars and scrap piles. 

"If it was up to me, I'd relocate my team. Scribe Haylen detected some disturbing energy readings in the area, they need to be investigated." He explained. "We don't know much about them-- except that they're short-lived and broadcast on a frequency only available on a high level of technology. We're concerned that whoever or whatever is creating those energy readings might be a potential threat. So it's our job to investigate." There were shots from underneath an overpass as a group of raiders noticed them.

"Stay behind me, civilian!" Danse ordered.

"Not a fucking civilian." Delilah retorted, drawing her rifle. He took aim with his laser rifle and put himself between her and the raiders. Delilah muttered insults under her breath and ran out from behind him, taking cover beside a group of Pulowski's preservation shelters. Did they work? Or did they seal up, trapping the people seeking shelter inside? Did they melt? Did the civilians suffocate? Suffocate, locked in a dark airless tomb, it's not underground but it's very nearly the same, darkness and screaming, your own gasping breaths the only noise left in the world--

Delilah took aim and shot down two raiders in rapid succession. Do these people you kill have families? Children? Are you creating more orphans? How many families have you torn apart? How many lives have you destroyed? How many-- She fought off the thoughts, focusing entirely on the task at hand. One more raider to remove. Remove. Danse shot her, her body disintegrating into ash. He turned to her.

"Next time stay behind me." He said.

"So did you actually need an extra gun or do you enjoy babysitting?" Delilah asked, standing up. "Because I can't aim around you."

"I do need an extra gun. However, I also require you to be uninjured when we arrive."

"Well that sucks because I stubbed my toe earlier." Delilah said.

"Don't joke about this." Danse told her, continuing up the road.

"It's all I can do, Paladin." She muttered. All you have is your sense of humour and the clothes on your back.

"What did you say?" He didn't stop moving. She followed him.

"Absolutely nothing." Just like you.

Chapter Text

"There it is. ArcJet Systems." Danse said as they approached the building. "There shouldn't be any external security, so we'll head in through the front." They stepped up to the front door, where Danse held out a hand to stop Delilah. "Listen up. We do this clean and quiet. No heroics and by the book. Understood?" He said sharply. Delilah rolled her eyes.

"Understood."

"Remember our primary target is the deep-range transmitter. Stay focused, and check your fire. I don't want to be hit by stray bullets."

"Will getting shot actually do anything to you?" Delilah asked. Danse didn't respond, heading inside. He's almost mad. He's almost there. Look! The fusion core! Shoot it now! Delilah followed him.

The interior was trashed. Collapsed staircases and broken furniture littered the front room. Danse didn't stop, heading into the hallway. Delilah froze as the building shifted, the room clean and tidy for a split second, returning to the mess it was almost immediately. Oh good, your medication's worn off enough that the hallucinations are returning. Are you excited? Your brain is about to get even more crowded.

"It was corporations like this that were the final nail in the coffin for humanity. They exploited technology for their own gains, pocketing the cash and ignoring the damage they'd done." Danse said, his voice cutting through her thoughts.

"Don't I know it." Delilah said. They entered a room where protectrons lay in pieces.

"Look at this mess. It seems security's already been dealt with." Danse said.

"I see that." Delilah kicked one of the protectrons.

"Damn it, I was hoping to avoid this. Look at the evidence. There isn't a single spent ammunition casing or drop of blood in sight. These robots were assaulted by Institute synths." Danse said, turning to her. More unfamiliar words for you.

"What's the Institute?" Delilah asked.

"They're a group of scientists who went underground when the Great War started. Spent the last few decades littering the Commonwealth with their technological nightmares."

"And what are synths?"

"Synthetic humans. They're an abuse of technology, created by the Institute. Abominations. Meant to 'improve' upon humanity. It's unacceptable, they simply can't be allowed to exist. Machines that appear human in every way." Oh good, a half-assed answer. You two have a lot in common then.

"I'll be on the lookout, then." Delilah said.

"Roger that. Let's move out." Danse told her, heading down another hallway. The whole building was silent, save the Paladin's clanking steps and Delilah's soft footfalls. They entered a large room, with all doors locked. Locked doors, dark corners, snipers from unseen vantage points-- the screams and cries of pain as your friends die with no escape in sight--

"A dead end. See if you can get the doors open." Danse said. Delilah stepped up to a terminal, observing the strings of letters as they ran across the screen. She pressed keys, working her way through the code and into the terminal. It unlocked for her, and she switched the door open.

"Movement detected." She straightened up quickly as skeletal things appeared.

"Are those synths?" She asked, drawing her rifle and diving behind the desk.

"Yes, check your fire-- kill them all!" Danse ordered, firing on them. They ran at him, not seeing Delilah as she took shots at them from behind cover. As the last one spotted her and charged she sent a bullet through its head. She stood up and headed towards him, reloading. The next two rooms were filled with synths as well, and Delilah's only cover was Danse. She crouched behind him, firing out from around his armour.

"Would you check your fire I know you're hitting me!" He snapped.

"Unless you've got a spare wall or something you're going to have to live with it." Delilah retorted. He grumbled, disintegrating a synth up on the second floor.

"Just follow me. Damn synths have taken over the entire place."

Chapter Text

"Engine core's ahead. Should be our final stop." Danse said as he headed down the dark hallway. Delilah nodded curtly from behind him as she picked bullets out of her arm. "Watch your footing. Looks like the power's out in this section."

"Are you absolutely sure? It looks fine to me." Delilah muttered.

"You may think I can't hear you, but rest assured I've had to listen to every smart-ass comment you've made so far." Fusion core! Fusion core! Fusion core! Fusion core!

"That's a first." He stopped, turning to her.

"Do you mind explaining your attitude to me or do I need to leave you here?" He snapped.

"Do you really want to know?" Delilah asked, eyebrow raised.

"Yes. So I have a reason for your insubordinate behaviour."

"Well okay then. It goes something like this. I was in the Great War, killed a lot of people, watched a lot of people die. Came home, had a kid, nuclear annihilation happened. Ended up in a Vault, was cryogenically frozen without my knowledge or consent, got woken up long enough to watch my husband get shot and son kidnapped, woke up again to find the entire world gone to shit." Delilah snarled, stepping towards Danse as her voice got louder. "It's been exactly two weeks and I've spent that time being shot at, stabbed, thrown around and running around on about six hours sleep total-- oh and I had a deathclaw try to play 'can opener' on a suit of power armour while I was inside it. I've had a rough couple weeks, so forgive me if I'm dealing with it really fucking badly!" She ended her story by shouting at him, face inches from his helmet.

"I… apologise." He sounded defeated. There. You pushed him enough and he wanted an explanation. Mystery solved.

"You want that deep-range transmitter so badly, keep moving." Delilah snapped. He did, turning away and continuing down the hall. You upset him, didn't you? Surprised him maybe? You yelled, that's for sure-- and you wonder if you'd be a decent mother.

"Look at this place. Scribes would have a field day in here, for sure." Danse sounded awestruck as they entered a room with catwalks surrounding what looked like a rocket.

"It's… I didn't even know anyone was working on something like this." Delilah said quietly. They headed down the rusting catwalks.

"The transmitter should be somewhere on the upper floors, but it looks like the elevator's dead. We'll have to keep heading down for now, hopefully there'll be a way to restore power at the bottom." Ha ha, power bottom. Delilah rolled her eyes, grimacing. "Something the matter?" Is he a power bottom? She worked to push the thoughts away.

"Not you." She said. "Just my brain." Shoot the fusion core so he gets out!

"I see. I'll take point, make all the faces you wish." He said, heading down the stairs. "There must be a maintenance area somewhere. Scout around, try to find a terminal or something. I'll remain here, watch our backs." Danse turned, observing the dark room. Delilah headed into the open doors to the side, before turning back to him. "What is it?"

"Just… okay yeah never mind." She shook her head, continuing down the small hallway. At the end was a button on a console. She pushed it.

"Warning. Power loss: Detected. Engine core is: Offline." An automated voice said. She stepped into the back room where the engines were, turning on the terminal. She activated the auxiliary generators and stepped back, triumphant as they powered up. "Engine power: Restored. Thermal engine: Fueled, and standing by for your command." There was an explosion from the main room, and Delilah ran back to see Danse being swarmed by synths.

"Oh shit-- hang on!" She shouted, running for the doors. They'd slammed shut, locked by the program activating the engines. She darted back, banging on the glass. "Door's locked!" She yelled.

"You need to turn the engine on! The rocket fire will disintegrate the enemy!" Danse shouted from the other side of the glass.

"You'll die!" Delilah yelled back.

"My armour will withstand it-- Edwards turn that engine on, that's an order!" Delilah didn't stop watching as she hit the button. The engine glowed and shot fire into the room. The synths were disintegrated as expected, and Danse staggered backwards, falling to his knees as the rocket fire died out. He's dead, don't you see? Burned alive, roasted in his suit. There's nothing left but charred remains-- how will you transport it back to the police station? How will you prove your innocence in his death? Why would you claim innocence? You pushed the button. You sentenced him. You sealed his fate.

"Oh my god are you okay?" Delilah called as the doors automatically opened and she ran through.

"I'm fine, soldier. Power armour is resistant to heat." He stood up slowly. He smells of smoke and burnt oil.

"I'm less concerned about the armour and more concerned with whether or not you ended up cooked in there." She said. He removed his helmet, staring down at her. He's a person. He's not harmed.

"I am fine. We need to continue our mission now. Elevator power is restored, so we can reach the top level." He said. She nodded, hitting the elevator call button. Left hand! They stepped inside, the elevator not built for a tall woman and a man in power armour. Delilah was pressed against the left wall as Danse moved to hit the level button. Left hand left hand left hand--

"Wait wait wait don't press it with your right!" Delilah said quickly, reaching for the panel. He looked confused as he pressed it. "Oh good we're going to die now!"

"What are you talking about?"

"If you press an elevator button with your right hand, the elevator will break, and we'll all die." Delilah said, slowly panicking as the elevator shuddered as it climbed.

"That's a superstition with no basis in reality, Edwards." Edwards! Your name!

"So it's 'Edwards' now? Good I have a name again." Delilah said, voice shrill. The elevator shook, jerking to a stop as the bare bulb above them went out. The door didn't open. Delilah let out a high whine that turned into a scream and then into her next few words, "Aaah-- We're going to die, now! We're going to die! Nice metal box, nice metal coffin--" She began turning around in circles, dragging her hands on the walls. Frozen boxes, the inside of a metal cube-- tanks and elevators are the same, doomed transport with dying cargo--

"Edwards, I need you to calm down. The elevators here freeze and stop a lot. It will continue its course upwards soon." No it won't, you'll be trapped, the cables will break, you'll fall to your death-- that's the only way this can end, a long drop and a painful landing--

"The only way it's going to go is back down! You'll be fine, you've already got your metal coffin on, I'm not, I'm a squishy, squishy human all meat and muscle and--" She slammed her head backwards into the wall. "Don't fucking say anything to me this is your fault!" She shrieked. He gripped her arms, leaning towards her. He's too big too big too big--

"Delilah Edwards, I need you to stop talking and take deep breaths. The elevator will continue moving soon." Danse said urgently. "Hang in there soldier, it's going to be okay." He believes it, why does he believe it? How can he believe it-- he has to be lying, you know he has to be lying, there's no way out from this no way out-- Delilah locked eyes with him, not breaking the contact until the elevator began moving again, the door opening with a friendly ding. Danse practically pulled her out, her body going stiff. Rigour mortis-- "You're safe now. We're on the top floor."

"How are we getting down." Delilah said shakily. You're not.

"I don't know. Stay here, the transmitter is close." He said, heading off through the dark hallways. He's not coming back. He's going to die out there, one of those skeletons will kill him. What will you do? Will you go back down the elevator? No--you'll stay here, dying of thirst and hunger. Your fear will kill you. It will-- Delilah followed Danse, pulling her rifle from her back. She couldn't let her thoughts keep moving.

"Paladin Danse." She said, turning a corner as he picked up the transmitter he needed. He turned to her.

"I told you to stay behind."

"How are you getting down." Delilah said.

"The only way back down is in the elevator." Danse looked apologetic. "I looked around, there are no stairs. At least, none that are intact."

"Fuck." Delilah muttered. Danse handed her the transmitter.

"Keep a hold on this on the way down. Don't drop it. Please." Danse said, adding the last part gently, and led her back to the elevator. She sat on the floor, holding the transmitter tightly as Danse pressed the elevator button with his left hand.

"I'm sorry." She said quietly. Danse didn't look at her.

"There's no reason for you to apologise."

"Okay."

"Can you tell me why you're afraid of elevators?"

"I got stuck in one in '71. 30 floors up, I was two floors away from my destination and the elevator stalled. Lights went out, thing wasn't even on a floor, it was between floors. I was alone, in the dark, in a metal cube waiting for help."

"How long were you in there?"

"An hour." Delilah said. Darkness, the metal coffin-- yelling for help, people outside giving encouragement-- the one woman who never left, never left you, stayed and talked to you until you escaped--

"I see." Danse said as the elevator reached the bottom. He stepped out, offering Delilah a hand up. She took it, clutching the transmitter tightly. It was dark outside, the moon slowly rising over the city. "It's too late to head back now. Travelling in the dark is tactically dangerous."

"Then we stay in the front room. Easily defendable, we know the layout of the building in case we need to retreat." Delilah told him.

"Good plan." Danse replied.

"I have my moments."

Chapter Text

Delilah tossed him a package of salisbury steak while she opened more pork 'n' beans. He tilted the box back, dropping the food in his mouth.

"You're really not going to leave the armour for anything, huh." She said.

"It's not currently safe to do so." Danse told her.

"So the Brotherhood's the military?"

"Yes. There is an east coast faction and a west coast faction. Before you make a smart-ass comment, we are obviously the east coast faction."

"Sure thing. Did you know eating nothing but pork 'n' beans for two weeks fucks up your taste buds?" Delilah stared down at the can in distaste. "I'm going to keep eating it, but I really do not like this stuff anymore."

"Why did you eat nothing but that for two weeks." Danse looked exasperated. Delilah shrugged.

"I liked it. That and I hate cram and those were my only options." She leaned back against the old couch, relaxing slightly. He sat down on the stairs.

"Were all pre-War foods packaged?"

"Obviously only the packaged stuff survived. No, we had potatoes and melons and strawberries and bananas and my god I miss the turkey."

"What?"

"Berries. Fruits. Meats. A whole world of flavours just waiting to be explored. Rich people hired chefs, the big thing right then was French cooking, people were copying their recipes left and right-- does France still exist? Please say it does I really want to go there."

"I don't think any pre-War country still exists."

"You really hate fun don't you." Delilah said flatly.

"I don't… Why are you like this?" Danse looked concerned.

"Because it's honestly the only way I'm staying sane."

"I see."

"That's it? I have been winding you up to see how you'd respond when I finally pushed you too far for the past day, and when you finally snap you ask me what my problem is. What the hell are you? I have done nothing to garner any niceness from you, and you're just… accepting my answers at face value, what the fuck?" Delilah said.

"Why shouldn't I? You're an insubordinate civilian--"

"Soldier."

"--Soldier who obviously has always had attitude problems. However your issues with authority are outweighed by your willingness to help and take my orders without question."

"Except for where I didn't follow them at all."

"I'm trying to give you a compliment please stop fighting it." Delilah looked stunned.

"Well that's fucking new and different." She said.

"Why are you so resistant to praise?"

"Because it's uncomfortable and there's no reason for it to be given to me." Danse leaned forward, frowning. "Is this going to turn into a therapy session? Because I highly doubt you're ready for me to unload my problems onto you."

"We have all night."

"I know that. Fine. I don't like being praised because I never think I deserve it. Honestly right now I think you should be given a fucking medal for putting up with my crap. I have done jack shit to help out, and your mission would probably have been easier without me."

"You did save my ass with the engine fire."

"At what point did you look at your life choices and experiences and think 'ah yes, being cooked by fire is an excellent event. This person made an outstanding decision'."

"Because we're both here arguing about it." Danse told her.

"Fair. Okay how about this one-- the person who charged into a police station shooting down ferals, showed no respect for authority and tagged along on a dangerous confidential mission ended up panicking in an elevator."

"A normal response. And given your account, a justified one."

"Why are you like this?" Delilah asked. "No person should be this damn calm and collected. If I punched you would you be upset?"

"I would be upset, yes. I am calm and collected because I need to be."

"You're like one of the soldiers fresh out of boot camp, you know that? Or one of the really senior members-- is your brain all right?" Delilah asked, leaning forward.

"My brain is functioning."

"That inspires a lot of confidence doesn't it." Delilah muttered sardonically.

Chapter Text

"I need to talk to you." Delilah turned to the paladin.

"What did I do?" She asked.

"It could have gone smoother, but mission accomplished."

"Smoother? I thought we did fine." 

"That sweep was sloppy. We were caught unprepared more than once. However, the extra gun was helpful. I don't think I could have accomplished the mission alone. Now, we have two important matters right now. First and foremost, if you'll hand me the deep-range transmitter." He held out his hand and Delilah gave it to him. "I'd like to compensate you for your assistance during this operation. It's one of my personal modifications of a standard Brotherhood laser rifle." He handed her his rifle. Good weight, good size, grip is good, scope needs work--

"I… don't you need it?"

"A good soldier always carries a second weapon. I have a backup. Now, as far as the second matter goes, I want to make you a proposal." Accept!

"I'd be happy to marry you." Delilah said before she thought about the words. He looked confused. "Sorry, continue."

"All right. Back there, our op could have ended in disaster. You followed the mission like a soldier, and we accomplished our goal. The way I see it, you've got a choice. You can spend the rest of your life wandering from place to place, trading help for meager rewards." Danse began. Sounds like a good plan. Do that! "Or, you could join the Brotherhood of Steel and leave your mark on the world." Even better! Do that! Delilah stared at him.

"What would be expected of me if I joined?" Always have to ask questions, don't you?

"You'd be under my command, and I'd expect you to follow orders. No more mercenary work, this is the real thing. You'd have access to advanced military weapons, as well as your own personal suit of power armour. Most importantly, you'd have the Brotherhood at your back, ready to spill its own blood to keep you alive." Sacrifice, friends throwing themselves between the grenade and the company-- "Offer still stands. Can we count on you?" They have the guns-- they have the ammo-- they have the armour-- they have power, they can give you the power, you can find Shaun with the power--

"I'd… okay. I'd be honoured." Soldier through and through, aren't you?

"Excellent. Come back to the police station and we'll discuss the details.

"Glad to see you alive and well sir." Haylen said as the two entered the police station.

"Are we in luck sir?" Rhys was in the corner.

"Mission accomplished. We have the transmitter."

"Finally some good news for a change-- nice work, sir." Rhys said loudly.

"I didn't do it alone." Danse turned to Delilah. "Haylen, Rhys, it's time to welcome our newest recruit to the recon team. She shows a… lot of promise, and with the proper guidance I think she has the potential to become one of the best."

"Thanks. I promise not to let you down." Delilah said, gripping the pouch on her belt tightly. Like an anchor. Like a lifeline-- lifeline lifeline lifeline--

"You don't have to prove anything else to me. Getting that transmitter was enough." Haylen said.

"So you decided to stay, huh? I expected you to take your pay and run." Rhys looked her over disdainfully. Good cop bad cop--

"Are you upset that I'm staying?" Delilah asked. Poke him, prod him, wind him up--

"Maybe. Got enough trouble stomping muties and ferals. I don't need something else to worry about." Rhys stepped towards her. Fight him! Drive him into the ground, he's going to kill you--

"Rhys that's enough. Like it or not, you're going to have to learn to work together." Danse said sharply, and turned to Delilah. "And you, you need to understand what it means to be a part of the Brotherhood. We're not soldiers of fortune, we're an army. And we've dedicated our lives to uphold a strict code of ethics. If you intend to stay within our ranks you need to obey out tenets without question."

"Understood." Delilah said. You're a soldier again. Stiff and upright, face forward and gaze focused. You finally have something to hold onto.

"Outstanding. Since you're eager to get started, I'll get right to the point. I only ask for two things from anyone under my command-- honesty and respect. You fall in line, you stay in line. I give you an order and you follow it. It's as simple as that. Before I release you to Haylen and Rhys for your assignments, there's one last order of business. From this moment forward, I'm granting you the rank of Initiate. This is only a training rank. I'm not permitted to grant ranks higher than that." Danse told her.

"Why can't you promote me further?"

"Only an Elder can promote you beyond Initiate. After we get the transmitter up and running, I'll call in and see what I can do." Danse said.

"Thanks." She told him.

"Thanks aren't necessary. Just keep excelling at your work, soldier."

"Ad Victoriam, Initiate!" Haylen said.

"She doesn't even know what that means, Haylen." Rhys told her.

"'Ad Victoriam' means 'To Victory'. In our eyes, defeat is unacceptable. Because we're fighting for the future of mankind. Our rallying cry is more powerful than any weapon you could ever carry. Remember that." Danse said proudly. "Now, I need you to report to Haylen or Rhys for your next assignment. Dismissed, soldier."

Chapter Text

"Look, I don't know you, I don't like you. So I'm not going to sugarcoat anything. You go over to the train station, clear out the ferals, come back. Got it?" Rhys said.

"Absolutely." Delilah told him.

Stay low. Stay low or you'll be seen. If you're seen you'll be ripped apart. Preston will return, ask about you. Rhys probably won't give him an answer. If he does he'll head straight here, find the pieces of you all over. Then what will he do? He'll be out a general and only have the dog for company. The thoughts ran around Delilah's brain as she hid in the subway stairwell. Ferals were roaming around, searching for whoever killed their brethren. She took aim again, killing the other three in rapid succession, and then creeping through the station. What looked like raider corpses littered the ground, and feral ghouls were everywhere. Civilians? People attempting to survive? How long have they been down here-- were they trying to escape on trains when the bombs fell? Were they going about their daily lives? Or were they people just trying to hide down here in the years after, twisted into some sick form of a joke?

There was a pack on the tracks, where a wooden platform was attached to a train. The train car's door was shut tightly, and the ferals were trying to get in. Delilah shot two of them, hiding as they began to search for her. The other four were shot down quickly and she climbed onto the platform, looking in. There was a man inside, curled up in a ball.

"Hello?" She asked quietly. The man looked up, terrified. He can't be older than seventeen. He's not even through puberty yet.

"You-- you're not a feral-- who are you?" He asked, voice shrill.

"I'm a friend. Why are you in there?" She tried to sound as soothing as possible.

"Ghouls swarmed us one night. Took us by surprise. They-- they killed everyone except me. Because I locked myself in here." He's small. Small and scared.

"Why were you down here?"

"This is our territory. Or it was. I guess it's ghoul territory now."

"Are you a raider?" Delilah asked. He looked down.

"Yes." He said quietly. Kill him-- he's hurt so many people, kill him now and be done with it-- if you don't he'll kill you--

"I could shoot you right now and be done with it. Or you could unlock the door and help me clear out the rest of the ghouls." Delilah said.

"Why would you… why'd you let me help you?"

"Because I'm outnumbered and seriously doubting that my luck and skill alone can get me through the tunnel." She said flatly.

"And after?"

"Depends. Would you give up hurting other people for no reason?" He nodded. "Open the door." She backed up as he opened it, standing up stiffly. "What's your name?"

"I'm… Crag. Or, I'm called Crag. I'm not allowed to use my old name." He said, running a hand through limp shaggy hair.

"Why not?"

"It's bad for business. Everyone changes their names. Even if it's just changing from 'Dennis' to 'Trevor'. Putting your old life away, stuff like that."

"Fair enough. Got a weapon?" He held up a pipe pistol. "All right. Just so you know, a lot of people have tried to shoot me over the years. A lot of them did shoot me. But the bullets never killed me. So don't go trying to betray me, got it?" Crag nodded, following her down the tunnel along the train car. "So why'd you join a raider gang?" To kill. To torture. For fun.

"The caravan I was with was slaughtered by super mutants. I was one of the only survivors. Got picked up by a gang and it spiralled out from there." Crag told her. She nodded as she picked off a feral climbing under the train. "I've been with two different gangs. This one was definitely the worst."

"What kept you from joining a settlement or another caravan?"

"After the first one? Word gets around. No one wants to be near the ex-raider. If I could leave the area I would, but I don't have the caps or supplies." They headed into an open train car and onto the station platform. He took aim and shot three ferals as he spotted them in the stairway.

"Are you interested in quitting?" She asked as they climbed the staircase.

"Absolutely." Delilah stood up as they reached the top, gunning down the ferals that noticed them.

"There's a settlement up past Concord. Promise me you're not going to turn on me, you've got a new home." Crag turned to her, bloodshot blue eyes wide with surprise.

"You're joking. You wouldn't actually open your gates to me." He said.

"There's honestly not much you can do right now to call in reinforcements. Besides, we've got a whole lot of heavily-armed settlers up there. It's not like any buddies of yours could fight them." Good bluff. Casual, calm. He'll never know until he's up there.

"A lot of people? A lot of…" Crag squirmed, shifting his focus onto the lone ghoul in the old bathroom. He shot it. "You're serious. You're… thank you." He smiled, looking weepy. "You're the nicest person I've met so far." He's so young-- he's a child-- this is a child you're helping, a child with a gun and nothing to his name but a body count--

"Don't cry on me please." Delilah told him. He nodded.

The staircase up was cracked cement. A loose step sent Crag falling back down when it slid backwards under his weight. Delilah turned to him as he landed.

"I'm fine." He said quickly, standing up and readjusting his belt. She nodded, pushing open the doors to harsh sunlight.

"If you head northwest you'll-- Preston!" She spotted the minuteman heading through the empty street. He waved to her. "Follow me."

"Who's this?" Preston asked.

"Hi. I'm um, I'm Crag." He said nervously. Dogmeat sniffed him, growled softly, and then licked his hand.

"Found the kid in the subway. Can we give him a home?"

"He looks like a raider." Preston said, observing the makeshift armour.

"I don't want to be one. I didn't want to--"

"Dogmeat thinks he's okay. And he did help me out with a feral problem." Delilah told him.

"If Dogmeat thinks he's okay, then okay. Sanctuary's to the northwest. Past Concord, a Red Rocket, and then over a wooden bridge. There's a sign that says 'Sanctuary Hills' and a bunch of houses." Preston said.

"You really trust me don't you?" Crag said quietly.

"Honestly I don't trust you but I trust Del's judgement and Dogmeat's assessment. But you are pretty much on probation. You pull a gun or anyone finds you doing suspicious shit, you'll be questioned and potentially thrown out. Got it?" Preston asked. Crag nodded quickly. "Get going. Try not to die." Crag glanced at the two, and then began walking down the street. As he reached the intersection he took off running, vanishing from sight behind buildings.

"Did we make the wrong choice?" Preston asked.

"I found him in a train car practically sobbing with fear, surrounded by feral ghouls. He's just a kid." A child, a child with a gun and nothing but a few bullets and words to his name--

"Kids grow up pretty fast out here." Preston said sadly.

"It's on my head if anything goes wrong. Not yours." Delilah said firmly. "I took Quincy into account, trust me."

"I appreciate that. Why were you down there?"

"I may have joined the Brotherhood of Steel." Delilah said awkwardly.

"You what?"

"Look it was a heat-of-the-moment thing. Closest thing to military this place's got and my brain was begging for some form of structured order or whatever. I'm still the general, right?"

"I don't think I can kick you out for being part of the Brotherhood." Preston said. "Not entirely understanding of why you joined, but it's your choice."

"Okay great. Because I just went through an entire train station clearing out feral ghouls. Come on, the guy that told me what to do's an ass."

Chapter Text

It was getting dark as they headed through the ruins of Boston. There was the faint sound of music coming from one of the buildings, and there were strings of lights over a doorway. A crudely painted sign read 'the Combat Zone' on a post by the street. Looks like the spot you'd have visited once. Seedy bars and chalk circles, wrapped-up hands and bloody faces--

"Oh great. This is a shit hole, Del. Nothing good here."

"Can we go in?" She asked.

"We can. Wouldn't recommend it but we can." Preston said. She nodded, heading inside. There were people in a small alcove, bound and on their knees. A hastily-constructed sign read 'rule breakers' next to them. The rules were painted on the wall. Don't stay-- this is not a safe place--

Delilah pushed open the doors, looking down at what used to be a theatre. A massive cage was on the stage, and what looked like a raider encampment surrounded it. The seats were trashed and filled with armed people, and planks and ramps led up and down the walls into nooks and precariously-placed structures. There was a bar to the side, and a woman was in the cage itself, beating a raider into the ground.

"That's impressive." Delilah said. Preston didn't look happy. She stepped farther into the room, into peoples' line of sight.

"Oh shit-- who is that?" Someone shouted.

"Kill her!" the command was loud, and Delilah ducked behind a wall as the place exploded into a firefight. Preston was across from her and Dogmeat was charging into the middle of the band of raiders. She took aim, carefully gunning down those above them. Preston shot into the crowd on their level, several raiders being disintegrated. Laser rifle, laser musket-- Delilah remembered the gun Danse had given her. She grabbed it, taking aim and shooting into the crowd. The sound was metallic, the scent of ozone surrounded her. She grinned, leaning out from behind cover to keep firing. Three left, shoot them in the head-- make them bleed--

She stepped out from behind cover as the last raiders fell, heading towards the cage where a ghoul was crouched behind the woman.

"So you wanna talk this out like civilised folk? Or are you gonna bash up my theatre some more?" Delilah holstered the laser rifle and stepped towards him. "Well that could have gone worse."

"I dunno, seemed quite the performance from where I was standing." The woman said.

"Are you fucking high or something? Why am I asking, of course you are." The ghoul said harshly.

"Still won the fight, didn't I?"

"You're strung out and getting sloppy is what you are. Course I suppose you ain't got to worry about that now. Seems this one just put us out of business." The ghoul stared Delilah down. "I'm not sure if I should kiss you or have my little bird here feed you your own entrails."

"I told you to quit calling me that!" The woman said angrily.

"I'd prefer a handshake if that's all right." Delilah said. "But it seemed like you guys might be in trouble."

"Trouble? Nah. But keeping those idiots entertained was what kept the lights on. Not exactly sure what we're gonna do now."

"To hell with 'em Tommy! More'll come. Just need a quick breather and I'll be ready to go."

"A breather? What? So you can slam more of that junk into your arm? No, you know what? I think this was a blessing in disguise." Tommy turned to Delilah again. "You caught the end of that bout. What'd you think of Cait's work?"

"It's impressive." Delilah said.

"Glad to see someone appreciates!"

"So here's my predicament. I suddenly got no audience. No audience means I got no caps coming in. And if you ain't bringing in caps, little bird, you ain't an asset. You're a liability. To me, and to yourself." Tommy said, glancing at Cait. "So here's what I'm thinking. What say I let you take over her contract. She goes with you, watches your back… look you'd be doing me a favour while I try to get the place back together. What do you say?"

"Me? And her?"

"Why would you want her to go with me?"

"Yeah Tommy? Just why the hell you trying to get rid of me?" Cait asked angrily.

"Look, truth is, all that junk, it's been making you careless. And I don't want to be the one doing colour commentary when you finally hit the floor. Alright? So just do me this favour. Both of you. Please." Tommy said.

"Sure. I could use another person watching my back." Delilah shrugged. You've had people hopped up on eight different drugs behind you before.

"Good. It's settled then. And here, take this. It's the purse from the last fight. Exterminator's fee." Tommy tossed her a bag of caps.

"Now just wait a second. What exactly are you gonna do without me here?" Cait asked.

"You don't need to worry about me. I'll get this place set up right. Maybe find a less blood-soaked clientele. Now get the hell out of here. You ain't welcome anymore, little bird."

"You're a real son of a bitch, you know that Tommy?"

"You don't have to tell me." Tommy laughed.

"All right. Come on?" Delilah said. Cait snorted and followed her.

"This is Preston Garvey, lieutenant of the Minutemen." Delilah said as they passed him. He finished bandaging Dogmeat's leg and stood up.

"Heard your conversation. Welcome aboard." He said, offering a hand. Cait didn't shake it, glaring at him. "This is Dogmeat."

"Best dog in the whole damn Commonwealth." Delilah said proudly, scratching his ears. Dogmeat barked, wagging his tail.

"So I'm stuck with a bunch of do-gooders then?" Cait said.

"Looks like it. To be fair you're also gonna need to be on the front lines. Preston and I are snipers. Dogmeat'll watch your back though." Delilah said apologetically.

"Fine. Just keep moving, okay? My contract doesn't cover conversation." Delilah nodded, heading out the door.

"Are you gonna be warm enough?" Preston asked as they headed down the dark street.

"Don't worry about me, keep an eye on yourself." Cait retorted. Small-- young-- a wild girl, gun in hand, making deals with devils and putting down anyone looking at her wrong--

"You found a real winner, didn't you General?" Preston said. Delilah smiled.

Chapter Text

They were pinned down by raiders. There had been a blockade in an eastbound street, and people patrolling a parking garage. However, there were raiders waiting for them in the upper stories of the buildings lining the northbound street, forcing the group into alcoves and under vehicles.

Preston was cranking his musket from a doorway, firing quickly at the fire escape where a raider shrieked as the metal beneath her feet melted away and her legs were burned by the laser fire. Delilah was sitting behind a delivery truck, taking careful aim at people in the windows. Cait was in another doorway, firing at windows as well.

"General, we can't get rid of them like this!" Preston called.

"See if you can break through the doors. We'll flush them out." Delilah said, casually taking another shot at a raider. The bullet hit the man's head and he tumbled out of the window he was leaning through down to the street.

"I'm through!" Preston said as his kicks broke through the old wooden door. He charged in and Delilah glanced upwards.

"Cait, I need you to follow Preston and give us cover fire." Delilah said. Cait nodded sharply, following her as she ran into the building. An apartment complex in another country, heavy vests and boots, careful steps and careful aim-- civilians held hostage and your squad members anxious--

Delilah pressed up against the wall, taking aim around the corner with her pistol. "Clear." She muttered, heading up the stairs after the echoes of gunfire. Preston was behind a faded couch, rising up long enough to fire on raiders before ducking back down behind. Cait shot into the room before diving behind the door and Delilah stayed partially covered by the stairwell, eye level with the raiders' feet.

"Three left on this side, there's a bridge across to the other building." Preston said quickly. Delilah nodded, moving out from cover and shooting the three remaining raiders in the head. She holstered her pistol, taking her rifle from her back and moving to the windows, looking into the other building through her scope.

"I see two raiders, this lever, four on the roof, one going up the stairs to the roof." She said calmly. You're in your element now. "Pres, move to the window, take shots. Cait, watch the bridge. Dogmeat, stay here." She ordered quickly, aiming for a man in a sack hood. She shot him, as the raiders on the roof began firing on the group. 

Delilah could hear the laser fire and shotgun blasts in the background as her focus narrowed in on each target. Shooting down parachutes while lounging on a truck-- Woman in metal armour down. Pistol to the head, one bullet needed-- Man on the roof with a bullet through his knee, falling to his death. A rifle, eye in the scope, aiming for-- A man in leather and a bullet to the face. How many people have you killed? Woman with a grenade in hand. How many people are you going to kill? The man on the roof was disintegrated by laser fire.

She turned to the room, moving away from the window, the world still faded around her. You're almost gone. You're almost back before. Before-- before-- Delilah ran forward. Five things you see-- corpse, desk lamp on the floor, Cait, Dogmeat, a bridge. Four things you hear-- gunfire, Dogmeat's barking, my breaths, Preston's voice. Three things you smell-- smoke and blood. Two things you can feel-- Rifle and cloth. One thing you taste-- Delilah licked her sleeve. Cloth.

Cait let out a curse-filled shout as a raider charged across the bridge, kicking her onto her back and aiming a rifle. Point-blank shot to the head-- blank eyes staring skyward-- Delilah didn't hesitate, charging the man and slamming into him, knocking him back out the door and off the bridge. Mouth open in a scream of pain, body going slack as the killer turns to you, rifle raised once more-- She took aim with her rifle and shot him three times after he hit the ground, and then turned back to Cait, worried. Execution.

"You okay?" Delilah asked. She's too young for this-- too young to be out here--

"Well I'm alive, ain't I? Can't say the same for that asshole. Did the fall kill him or was it you shooting him a bunch that did him in?" Cait asked. Delilah offered her a hand up. Cait stood up quickly, slapping it away. Irritable and closed off-- who does that remind you of? What angry girl can you remember doing the exact same thing?

"Preston, how you doing?" Delilah asked.

"I'm good. Bullet grazed my arm but the bleeding's stopped." Preston said, walking over to them.

"I think the road's clear now." Delilah said.

Chapter Text

"Hey." Delilah said, prodding Cait's shoulder. Preston was up ahead, looking for the clearest path forward with Dogmeat.

"What?" She asked, tensing up. What does she expect?

"Here." Delilah handed her the bag of caps Tommy had given her.

"Why?"

"You get a share of the winnings, right? Here's your share."

"Yeah, but… I'm not under his contract any more."

"I'm gonna level with you, I'm not comfortable taking someone's contract. It sounds way too much like free labour or indentured servitude or whatever for me. So, how about we ignore the contract, and either you stick around or I can point you towards a settlement and you can live there?" Delilah said, shifting her weight from foot to foot.

"Is the great wall of a woman uncomfortable?" Cait asked. "It ain't servitude, but I'll take your offer." Delilah nodded. "Point the way forward and I'll keep following you and that cowboy do-gooder." Delilah smiled at her.

"Thanks, Cait. Appreciate having you on the team." Her smile wavered as she noticed Cait resting all her weight on one leg. "Is something wrong?" She asked.

"What? No, I'm fine." Cait said harshly.

"Please don't lie to me." Delilah said quietly. Who's asking the question? The fellow fighter and survivor? Or the worried mother?

"I-- fine. I may have taken a bullet in the leg. Or three."

"Stimpak?" Delilah offered. Cait nodded, taking one and jamming it into her thigh.

"Okay enough fun let's go." Cait said quickly, following Preston. Delilah nodded and followed her.

--

"Should we stop by Hangman's Alley?" Delilah asked as they passed it. "If the recruitment beacon got set up…"

"Good idea. I see raiders down the road, maybe they'll move away while we're in here." Preston said and led them through the fortified gate. Turrets had been hastily constructed, and inside there were small buildings surrounding a small farm. There were people, working on reinforcing the walls and watering the crops. These people are afraid. You can see it in their stance, can't you? Lonely and scared and fragile-- 

"Delilah." Preston said, staring at her.

"What?"

"Do you want something to eat? There's vegetable soup in the kitchen." He gestured to a small overhang with a stove and a small table.

"Uh, yeah, sure." She said. Preston led her to the table and sat with her, calmly handing her a bowl and waving off Dogmeat. The dog bounded over to where Cait was repairing her shotgun, tail wagging. Cait spun around, telling him off.

"This isn't just a social thing is it." Delilah said flatly, staring at the gate.

"I just wanted to check in. You and I, we met under fire. And then it's been nothing but us running around looking for things and me giving you orders and a title."

"Are you ashamed of that?" She asked.

"I'm realising I don't actually know you that well. It's not like we've been able to sit down and have a long conversation until now."

"Not even when we took stuff apart for scrap?" Delilah asked, grinning.

"Okay, sure. But I do want to get to know you better."

"Where do you want to start?"

"Wow. You're… really okay with just telling me?"

"You're the first person I found coming out of the Vault. You've been with me for the past week. I trust you." Delilah told him. Trust-- you trust him? The man who couldn't even keep a group of people alive? How many has he lost under his command? How many more will die because of him? How many--

"That's a pretty big compliment. Where are you from?" Preston asked.

"New Mexico. Little town near the Mexican border. Parents were immigrants, didn't move too far north because they still had family across the border."

"Where's New Mexico?" Preston looked confused.

"It's the state in between Arizona and Texas. In the southwest, near southern California. It's desert and mountains, mesas, forests-- high altitudes and dry weather." Delilah explained.

"Okay, I remember now. How'd you end up in Boston?"

"I wandered. Headed north along the railroad up to Kansas, then down until I got to Houston. Stayed there for a while and then headed east again." You left for a reason. "Was in Florida for a bit, headed north through the states until I reached Boston, and decided to stick around." How can you tell this man-- this good man, this kind, just man-- what you were? How can you ever tell him? No. You'll never tell him what you've done. Those secrets will rot with your corpse.

"That's quite the trek." Preston said, impressed. "I noticed you, uh, pulled rank with the Brotherhood. You were in the army?"

"Yeah. Joined to make some money." Honest work, she wanted. She wanted you to make a living, not a series of actions increasing the risk of your death. A living. You could have gotten a job at CIT. You could have begun your career in donut shop managing. But no, you had to choose the military. And now you're stuck with more memories. More sins. "Finally got discharged about a year before the bombs fell." She leaned back against the chair, arms spread backwards over it.

"Oh." Preston said quietly, looking down.

"Where'd you come from?"

"Little settlement north of here. By north I mean north of the entire Commonwealth, it's up near… I guess where Vermont used to be."

"How the hell did you get down here." Delilah said.

"I guess like how you ended up here, by wandering." Preston told her. "Ended up here few years ago, joined the Minutemen almost immediately. Fighting for a better world, right? Then the Quincy massacre happened, I led people into Concord, and we met you."

"Fair enough." Delilah said. Cait returned, looking frustrated. 

"Ready to head back out?" The woman asked. Delilah nodded.

--

"'Diamond City this way'." Delilah said thoughtfully, reading the crudely-painted sign. They headed through the archway, past armoured guards with baseball bats to the front of the stadium. Loud crowds and long afternoons, people and food and merchandise and-- Delilah froze as she watched a crowd of hazy shadows move in and out of the gates. Her vision cleared to reveal only a woman in a red trench coat shouting at an intercom next to a massive gate.

"What do you mean you can't open the gate? Stop playing around, Danny! I'm standing out in the open here for crying out loud!" The woman shouted at the intercom box.

"I got orders not to let you in, Ms. Piper. I'm sorry. I'm just doing my job." The voice from the box--Danny-- said.

"Ooh, just 'doing your job'? Protecting Diamond City means keeping me out, is that it? 'Oh look, it's the scary reporter'! Boo!" Piper said, shaking with anger.

"I'm sorry, but Mayor McDonough's really steamed, Piper, saying that article you wrote was all lies. The whole city's in a tizzy." Danny told her. Delilah approached slowly, leaning to the side to look at the woman's face, confused. She acts like someone-- you know the name, what's the name--

"Agh! You open this gate right now, Danny Sullivan! I live here! You can't just lock me out! Dammit Danny, open up!" She turned to Delilah, dropping her tone to a whisper. "You. You want into Diamond City, right?"

"Yeah." Delilah said.

"Play along." Piper said, grinning, and then turned back to the intercom. "What was that? You said you were a trader up from Quincy? You have enough supplies to keep the general store stocked for a whole month? Huh. You hear that Danny? You gonna open the gate and let us in? Or are you gonna be the one talking to crazy Myrna about losing out on all this supply?" She waved her hands, encircling the outline of Delilah. Brandi. How could you forget her name-- and you said you loved her. Brandi Taylor, tattooist and former partner, a good woman, a kind woman. As if you deserved her--

"Geez, all right. No need to make it personal, Piper. Give me a minute." Danny said, exasperated. Piper looked up as the massive gate began to unlatch and rise.

"Better head inside quick before ole' Danny catches up on the bluff." Piper told her.

"This place-- Diamond City. What is it?" Delilah asked.

"Oh the 'green jewel'? She's a sight. Everyone who's anyone in the Commonwealth is from here, settled here, or got kicked out of here. A big wall, some power, working plumbing, schools and some security goons are what make Diamond City the big monster that it is. Love it or hate it. You'll see for yourself soon enough. Let's go." Piper said, smiling. They walked under the gate, where a man in a grey suit stood waiting for them.

"Piper! Who let you back inside? I told Sullivan to keep that gate shut! You devious, rabble-rousing slanderer! The level of dishonesty in that paper of yours-- I'll have that printer scrapped for parts!" He shouted, waving his arms around in a frantic gesture.

"That a statement, Mr. McDonough? 'Tyrant mayor shuts down the press'? Why don't we ask the newcomer--" Piper said angrily, turning to Delilah, "Do you support the news? 'Cause the mayor's threatening to throw free speech in the dumpster!" Propaganda-- any pamphlets or pieces of propaganda in favour of the Chinese or against the United States government will be destroyed. Sedition and slander will be counted as criminal offences-- in this time of war we must stand united as one country, not divided. We must look to our Oval Office for leadership, not point fingers at Congress and-- Marches and protests, calls for resignation and peace talks--

"Always believed in freedom of the press." Delilah said.

"Oh, I didn't mean to bring you into this argument, good lady. No, no… you look like Diamond City material. Welcome to the great green jewel of the Commonwealth. Safe, happy. A fine place to come-- spend your money, settle down. Don't let this muckraker here tell you otherwise, all right?" McDonough said, smiling. With that politician's smile, nothing but honeyed words and empty promises-- really ramping up the appeal, isn't he?

"What are you two arguing about anyway?" Delilah asked.

"What do you think? Print lies and everyone's happy, but if you print the truth…" Piper began.

"Now, was there anything particular you came to our city for?" McDonough cut her off.

"I'm trying to find someone."

"Trying to find someone? Who?"

"My son. Shaun. He's less than a year old."

"Wait--your son's missing? Oh, you hear that, McDonough? What's Diamond City Security gonna do to help this woman, huh? This isn't the first missing person's report to come through here, and now we've got an infant who's been taken?" Piper asked, lip curling as she stared him down.

"Don't listen to her. While I am afraid that our security team can't follow every case that comes through, I'm confident you can find help here. Diamond City has every conceivable service known to man. One of our great citizens can surely find the time to help you."

"Well sure. And, a mayor of a great city must know everyone. Who can help me?"

"Well I… there is one private citizen. Nick Valentine. A… detective of sorts, who specialises in tracking people down. Usually for debts or whatnot. Now I have to get going. I'm sorry Diamond City security doesn't have time to help, but I'm sure Mr. Valentine charges a reasonable fee." He said nervously.

"This is ridiculous. I want the truth, McDonough. What's the real reason security always shrivels away when talk of missing persons comes up?" Piper asked.

"I've had enough of this, Piper. From now on, consider you and that little sister of yours on notice." McDonough said, walking away.

"Yeah, keep talking McDonough that's all you're good for." Piper turned to Delilah. "I'm impressed. Not everyone can claw information out of McDonough's tight-fisted hands. Why don't you stop by my office later? I think I just found my next story." She smiled at Delilah and headed up the ramp into the city. Delilah turned to Preston and Cait.

"Wait, you're looking for your kid?" Cait asked.

"Yeah." She replied.

"Good luck then. You'll need it."

"We should head inside, Del. Someone's got to know something." Preston told her. She nodded and led the way into the city.

Chapter Text

This is smaller than you thought, isn't it? This isn't a city it's a town-- a bunch of people huddled in a baseball stadium. The voice said as Delilah stepped down the ramp into the city. The centre was a market, where what appeared to be a Protectron in a chef's hat was at a bar. The building to the immediate left had a brightly-lit sign reading 'Publick Occurrences', and a girl in front of it. Piper headed towards her as Delilah followed.

"Piper, you're back!" She called, jumping off the box she was standing on and running to the woman.

"Hey, kiddo. How are the paper sales?"

"Well, the presses are getting overloaded. That motor is going to go soon if we don't replace it."

"Ah, you've been saying that for weeks and the old girl keeps cranking. Stop worrying so much. I gotta head into the office. You start whistling if you see any angry politicians heading our way." Piper said and hurried past her into the building.

"Why? Is something wrong? Piper?" the girl asked, and then sighed, climbing back onto her box and calling out slogans.

"I'm gonna talk to Piper. I'll meet up with you, okay?" Delilah said.

"Don't worry, I'll head into the market and see if anyone's got supply shipments." Preston told her, and then headed towards the centre of the stadium.

"I'll follow the do-gooder." Cait said briskly, and followed him. Delilah headed into the building, Dogmeat following her.

--

"Ready, Blue?" Piper asked, motioning for Delilah to have a seat on one of the couches. She did so, sitting awkwardly with her arms folded across her knees while Piper sat across from her casually, notebook in hand.

"Blue?" Delilah asked, confused. "Why are you calling me that?"

"Cause you're a Vault dweller? I know you're not wearing the blue jumpsuit right now, but the pip-boy and that 'fish out of water' look? Dead giveaways." Piper told her. "So here's the deal. I want an interview. Your life story in print. I think it's time Diamond City had a little outsider perspective on the Commonwealth. You do that and… I'll tell you what. I'll come with you. Watch your back while you get used to the world above ground."

"What kind of interview is this going to be?"

"I ask you who you are, get your opinion on life out there, and maybe load up a few tough questions and keep it interesting. What do you say?" Piper grinned.

"All right, Piper. I'm in." Her enthusiasm is precious.

"Good. Let's get down to business. First off, I'll need your name."

"Delilah Edwards." Delilah said, and Piper wrote it down.

"So I know you're from a Vault. How would you describe your time on the inside?" Cold, so cold-- pods and coffins and boxes and darkness-- ice and blood-- eyes staring forward, staring at everything and nothing--

"My family and I were frozen. I didn't spend much time in the Vault."

"Wait. They boxed you up in a fridge? The whole time? Are you saying you were alive before the War?" She looked shocked.

"Yes. I'm over 200 years old."

"Oh my god." Piper said, laughing. "'The Woman out of Time.' So, you've seen the Commonwealth. Diamond City. How does it compare to your old life?"

"Okay, well, this world has deathclaws, radiation, bandits--or, raiders, whatever-- and there's a whole lot less options when it comes to food, there's no green, the animals are weird and currently you've got people living in a baseball stadium. It's fucking weird." Delilah said, dropping words out of her mouth without thinking. 

"Also there's people wandering around in orange onesies and power armour using medieval ranking systems, apparently ghouls are a thing… look I'm going to be completely honest with you. Your world sucks. But it's got some bright spots, I guess. There are settlements around. This place seems safe enough. And so far the people who haven't shot at me are pretty okay." She continued, trying to salvage her explanation. Look at these people. They're scared, fragile. Angry and cruel, and building crude reminders of what used to be. How can they do this? Why do they fight so hard? "Hang on. Those things I said, they're true, yeah. But seeing as… seeing as there are…" She trailed off, frowning. The people you've met-- Preston, settlers, Marcy, Jun, Sturges and Mama Murphy? They're rebuilding Sanctuary. They're fighting to make a new home. A safe home. 

"Your world is shit. But honestly, seeing everyone surviving out here? Rebuilding the world? It gives me hope." Delilah said firmly.

"That's convoluted but… beautiful. Now, I already know you're looking for your son, Shaun. Do you suspect the Institute was involved in the kidnapping?" Piper asked.

"The what?"

"The Institute. Secretive, kidnap people from the surface and replace them with synths, the boogeyman of the Commonwealth." Piper explained hastily. Secrets and stolen children, they're your only lead so grab onto that and hold tightly, better wrong than never jumping at options--

"Um. Sure? Could make sense?" Delilah said, confused.

"Not even a baby is safe from them. And people wonder why I can't just look the other way…" Piper muttered. "For the last part of our interview I'd like to do something different. I want you to make a statement to Diamond City directly. The threat of kidnapping is all but ignored in the Commonwealth. Everyone just wants to pretend it doesn't happen. What would you say to someone out there who's lost a loved one, but might be too scared, or too numb to the world, to look for them?" One day at a time-- one moment at a time-- can only handle so much-- can only handle so little--

"You just have to… take it one day at a time. That's all anyone can do. Some days will be harder, but if you can push through them…" Delilah stopped, staring over Piper's shoulder. Where is your son? Where is your husband? Your commander, your girlfriend, your best friend, your brother your cousin your partner your mother-- they're all dead aren't they and what will you do? What will you do about it? What can you do except move? Keep swimming before you drown-- 

Delilah took a shaky breath and continued, "You have to keep moving. Just keep… Just keep going. That's all anyone can do."

"A strong note to end on, thanks. That's everything. It's gonna take some time to put this all together, but I think your story is going to give Diamond City plenty to talk about. Anyway, I agreed to come with you, right? Watch your back? Just say the word when you're ready. I can't wait to see where this story goes next."

Chapter Text

"Preston." Delilah said, heading towards where the minuteman was sitting at the protectron's bar. Cait was next to him, looking calmer than she'd been before.

"Hey, General. Sit down, Takahashi's noodles are the best around."

"The… protectron has a chef's hat on." Delilah said, confused.

"Yeah, but he's got the food. Sit down, would ya?" Cait said. Delilah did, trading four caps for a noodle bowl.

"This is better than potato crisps." She said as she ate.

"Everything is. What'd miss reporter want?" Cait asked.

"Wanted an interview. I gave her one." She replied.

"What'd she want to know?"

"About the Vault, about my thoughts on the outside world, wanted some advice for people who'd lost family." Delilah said, staring at her food.

"I got a few shipments of wood and steel, that should set us up for a while. Where do you need to go next?" Preston asked. You need to find the detective. You can't put it off forever.

Chapter Text

Delilah finished her noodles, looking around the tiny market. She saw a neon sign, blinking slowly. Valentine Detective Agency-- She stood up, staring at it and walking.

"Where are you going?" Cait asked. Delilah stopped.

"To see the detective. You two don't have to come with me, I'll be fine." Delilah said and resumed walking.

"Like hell." Cait said flatly, standing as well.

"You two talk about anything interesting while I was gone?" Delilah asked.

"Nope." Cait told her. Delilah glanced around, and saw a neon sign for 'Valentine's Detective Agency' with an arrow. Follow the signs to the bright heart.

"Okay I know where to go follow me." Delilah said quickly, and didn't wait for Preston to stand up before she headed across the market, rounding the corner. Bright heart bright heart bright heart-- The arrow pointed right, and she turned down a narrow street covered by sheet metal, heading towards a third sign, pointing into a building. She shoved the door open and stepped inside.

A woman was in there rummaging through filing cabinets, her back to Delilah.

"Told you your luck wouldn't last forever." She muttered.

"Something wrong?" Delilah asked.

"Another stray coming in from the rain. 'Fraid you're too late. Office's closed." The woman said, turning to face her. There goes your last chance of finding Shaun. You've failed--

"I know you must be busy, but I won't take much of your time, miss. It's important." She said quickly.

"You're right. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude, but its just… the detective. He's gone missing."

"Do you have any idea how I could find him?" Delilah knew she was beginning to sound desperate.

"He disappeared while working a case. Skinny Malone's gang had kidnapped a young woman, and he tracked them down to their hideout in Park Street Station. There's an old Vault down there they use as a base. I told Nick he was walking into a trap, but he just smiled and walked out the door like he always does." The woman said.

"Who's Skinny Malone?"

"I don't know much about him, but he's from Goodneighbor, and that means he's in the well-pressed suits and machine guns school of thuggery." Gangs-- running through the streets of Boston, gun in hand, heading for the docks to either make a deal with a rival gang or to remove them entirely--

"You said Malone's from Goodneighbor?" The name. The name again.

"Yeah. It's a tough neighbourhood, northeast a ways. People with power there care about two things-- style and body count."

"I'll find him. You have my word…miss?"

"Ellie Perkins, sorry. Thank you. Nick should be easy to spot. He's always wearing that old hat and trench coat getup. Please, hurry."

Chapter Text

"We're gonna have to do a weird detour thing." Preston told her. "The scrap I got has to go back or Sturges can't keep the turrets running. If we return to Sanctuary we can restock on supplies, and then come back down." Delilah nodded slowly.

--

Sanctuary was completely dark when they arrived, though the sounds of people moving around could be heard. The sun was beginning to come up as Preston helped unload the steel and wood from the brahmin.

"Feel like taking a quick nap?" Delilah asked. "There's a bed in the house, we'll probably be a few hours seeing as Sturges will want something done." Cait nodded, heading into the house. She continued on through Sanctuary towards the makeshift kitchen. Delilah went into the building, opening up the cabinet and grabbing a package of salisbury steak.

"Hey, kid." She turned to Mama Murphy as the woman sat in an armchair next to the window.

"What do you need?"

"I don't need anything. But you, you need the Sight. I can sense it. You've got a whole lot of questions and not enough answers, and I can help you answer some. Or provide a way to answer 'em. But if you want the Sight again, the Sight needs mentats." Mama Murphy said.

"I have some. Here." Delilah said, handing the woman the box. Mama Murphy ate a few, sighing and leaning her head back.

"You're looking for a man. He can help you, but he ain't gonna be the man you expect. He's somewhere... deep... and dark. Surrounded by folks with nothin' but cruel intentions. But there's... an echo... Something in the past that can help you. When you meet the fat man, and the angry woman, tell them to "remember the Quarry and Lilly June on the rocks", and they'll let you and your friend pass." Mama Murphy said, and then gasped, sitting upright, her back cracking loudly.

"Are you okay?" Delilah asked. "I honestly don't think giving you chems is good if you do that."

"I'm fine, kid. Muscle spasms." She reassured Delilah. "Go on, you've got people to save."

--

"Are you sure you don't want to sleep for a bit? We could share a bed." Cait said, smirking as Delilah finished reloading her rifle and stuffing extra clips in her pockets.

"I can't tell if you're trying to flirt or not. I'm fine, we need to get moving." Delilah replied, heading across the bridge. You'll need to fix that soon-- Preston ran after them, shoving stimpaks into his coat.

"Do you have enough ammo?" Delilah asked.

"I think I have too much." Preston said, putting more fusion cells in his pockets.

--

They returned to Boston at dawn, heading through the ruined buildings. Is this going to be common? The group moved through the ruins quickly, the map on Delilah's pip-boy marking the way. They reached the subway station holding the Vault, and without hesitation Delilah walked in.

Delilah immediately crouched, slipping down the broken escalator with her rifle out. There were men in good clothes with machine guns in the lobby talking, and she pressed up against the doorframe, taking aim. She could hear Cait and Preston readying their guns as well, and she fired the first round. It hit the man near the benches in the head, and the others turned to where she was. They stood up, moving behind cover as the men opened fire. 12 rounds left-- She counted down as she aimed, firing three more rounds into three mens' heads. The fourth took a shotgun blast to the chest and he fell back with a gurgle, blood soaking through his clothes. Preston's musket vaporised the fifth and they came out from behind cover, glancing around.

"We good?" Del asked. Preston nodded, and they looked at Cait, who just seemed confused by their concern. She doesn't understand how compassion works-- she's just like you--

"I'm fine, quit your worrying and let's keep moving." She snapped, reloading her gun. Delilah took point, working her way down the second escalator into the station proper. There were more men patrolling.

"Triggermen." Preston muttered in her ear. "They're pretty popular in Goodneighbor." Delilah nodded, aiming at one by a damaged subway car. The others began looking for the trio, and Cait rushed forward, taking out two on the way. She picked up the downed man's gun and opened fire as Preston primed the musket. Delilah switched her sniper rifle for the Brotherhood one, and shot wildly, still unused to the handling of it. Her shots were relatively accurate, ultimately killing three gangsters. They didn't stop to check in, heading down one of the subway tunnels, passing discarded trash and another train, her brain running a constant stream of, You're late you're late you're late--

Stealth was ultimately abandoned, with the increase of triggermen and the decrease of shadowy hiding spots the farther down they went. They reached a part of the subway system that had obviously been under construction before the bombs dropped. As they headed through Delilah spotted a familiar structure through the haze of the construction lights.

"There's a Vault down here." She said softly. She climbed onto the platform, looking at the console.

"There's no other way to go but through there, then." Preston said. "And the faster we can find Valentine the better."

"Explain to me why you even want to find that goody-two-shoes." Cait said.

"Because if anyone can help Del, he can." Preston replied. Delilah plugged her pip-boy into the console, hit the button and watched as the Vault door --114-- opened. The screeching of rusting metal and hydraulics filled the air as the light from the other side illuminated the dark room.

Chapter Text

"How you doing in there Valentine? Feeling hungry? Want a snack?" There was a triggerman up at what looked like an office, talking to someone inside. So he is alive-- how long has he been there?

"Keep talking meathead. It'll give Skinny Malone more time to think about how he's gonna bump you off." The man inside replied.

"Don't give me that crap Valentine. You know nothin'. You got nothin'." Delilah crept quickly up the stairs, letting Cait move forward.

"Really? I saw him writing your name down in that black book of his. "Lousy cheating card shark' I think were his exact words. Then he struck the name across three times."

"Three strokes? In the black book? But I never… oh no. I gotta smooth this over--fast!" The man ran from the window, right into the barrel of Cait's shotgun. The shot echoed through the open room. Delilah stood up, running to the window. 

"Hey, you. I don't know who you are, but we got three minutes before they realise muscles-for-brains ain't coming back. Get this door open." The man inside was backlit and looked like a film noir detective. Delilah didn't respond to him, heading for the terminal and unlocking it. She could hear Preston priming his musket and watching the bottom of the room for movement while Cait searched the body. The door opened and Delilah stepped through. The man walked up to her and she froze. He's a skeleton-- that's not a man that's something else-- She stared at him, waiting for him to make a move. He had a cigarette in his metal claw-hand, and lit it without much thought.

"Gotta love the irony of the reverse damsel-in-distress scenario. Question is, why did our heroine risk life and limb for an old private eye?" He said, looking at her through the haze of smoke.

"What are you?" Delilah asked.

"Told you, I'm a detective. Look, I know the skin and the metal parts ain't comforting, but it's not important right now. The only thing that matters is why you went to all the trouble to cut me loose." His glowing yellow eyes locked with her brown ones. Delilah swallowed slowly.

"I need you to find someone. But it's… complicated. I don't exactly know where they could be or how long they've been gone." Delilah said, working to find the right words.

"Well I've done jobs with less. Somehow 'nice and simple' never makes it on the menu in my world. I've been cooped up in here for weeks. Turns out the runaway daughter I came here to find wasn't kidnapped. She's Skinny Malone's new flame. And she's got a mean streak. Anyway you got troubles, and I'm glad to help. But now ain't the time. Let's blow this joint. Then we'll talk." Nick told her. She nodded, looking out the window where Preston was ready to go. Nick led the way, heading down the stairs.

"Malone's crew used to be small time, muscled out of the old neighbourhood by bigger players. Until they found this place. Don't know what happened to the previous owners, but they're not exactly around to charge rent. An empty vault. Perfect hideout." Nick explained on the way. Perfect hideout-- perfect-- no one would look in a vault, no one would track bodies to a vault, hide the corpses of their sins, hide the broken families and evidence of harm-- 

They headed through the empty halls until Nick stopped. "Skinny Malone and the rest of his boys are waiting for us somewhere. The names, uh, ironic, but don't let that fool you. He's dangerous."

"So if I wanted to do this sort of thing, 'Tiny Del' would work?" Delilah asked. Nick chuckled.

"Yeah, probably." Nick told her.

"I'm gonna call you that from now on, you know that right?" Cait said.

"Can't wait." Delilah replied. Nick walked up to the sliding door.

"Another locked door. Shouldn't be too hard." He said, bending over to look at it. "Okay, I got it. But I hear big, fat footsteps on the other side. Once we step through this door, get ready for anything." He warned as the door slid open. They stepped through to meet a pack of gangsters headed by an overweight man in a suit and a woman with a nasty-looking bat. This has happened before.

"Nicky? What're you doing? You come into my house, shoot up my guys. You have any idea how much this is gonna set me back?" The man asked. Remember--

"I wouldn't be here if it weren't for your two-timing dame, Skinny. You ought to tell her to write home more often." Nick replied. Remember something--

"Aw, poor little Valentine. Ashamed you got beat up by a girl? I'll just run back home to daddy, shall I?" The woman snapped, slapping the bat against her free hand. What was it?

"I could beat you up any day, prissy girl!" Cait snapped. The bat-wielding woman opened her mouth to say something else.

"Should've left it alone, Nicky. This ain't the old neighbourhood. In this Vault, I'm king of the castle, you hear me?" Malone said. "And I ain't letting some private dick shut us down now that I finally got a good thing goin'!" The quarry--

"I told you we should've just killed him, but then you had to get all sentimental! All that stupid crap about the 'old times'." The woman screamed. Lilly June--

"Darla I'm handling this! Skinny Malone's always got things under control!" The rocks--

"Oh yeah? Then what's this lady doing here, huh? Valentine must have brought her here to rub us all out!" Remember!

"These arsewipes ain't going to let us out without a fight. Open fire now and get the jump on 'em." Cait told Delilah quietly. 

"Malone-- remember… remember the quarry-- and Lilly June on the rocks!" Delilah said, running the words out as fast as she could.

"What?" He looked shocked. "You-- How the hell'd you know about that? Okay, you can go. You got until the count of ten-- then I don't care about what happened back in the old days, you're dead."

"What're you doing, Skinny? Kill 'em!" Darla shouted.

"No Darla. One chance to leave. Skinny Malone's putting his foot down."

"My mother was right. You mobsters are all just talk." Darla said, and left.

"One!" Malone shouted.

"Let's go." Nick told Del. She didn't respond, running past the angry mobster and out the front of the Vault, the other three right behind her.

Chapter Text

"Never thought something so naturally foreboding would be so reassuring." Nick said, staring at the dark sky. He didn't say anything for a moment, and Delilah looked up as well, looking at the stars. "Well, time for business. You want to head back for Diamond City together, or meet up separately?"

"Let's head for Diamond City." Delilah told him.

They entered the agency at dawn, Preston and Cait electing to stay behind to give Delilah time to talk with Nick. The detective looked around, frowning slightly.

"Ellie? Are you here?" He called.

"Nick? Oh god, it's really you!" Ellie ran from the back room, launching herself at the detective and hugging him tightly.

"Well it's hard to mistake this mug for anyone else." Nick laughed, returning the hug.

"You keep laughing at death, someday death's gonna laugh back." Ellie told him, letting go.

"Not as long as I have a few friends to back me up." Nick looked at Delilah as he spoke, smiling. Ellie turned to her.

"You saved Nick, this agency, and my job. Thank you." Ellie said.

"Happy to do it." Delilah told her, smiling.

"Yeah? Go diving into scary pre-War ruins all the time then, do ya? Here. Something to compensate you." Ellie handed her caps. "You know, if you're looking for work and don't mind putting on the detective hat, Nick sure could use a new partner."

"Whoa. One case at a time, Ellie. Our new friend needs our help first." Nick interjected. "All right, lets get down to business. Take a seat, make yourself comfortable." Delilah did, sinking into the squishy armchair. Her knees came up too high for her liking and she looked more gangly than usual. She shifted until her legs stuck out against the desk and her arms weren't crushed against her sides. Ellie grabbed a clipboard, ready to take notes.

"When you're trying to find someone who's gone missing, the devil is in the details. Tell me everything you can, no matter how… painful it might be." Nick explained.

"We're looking for my son, Shaun. He's less than a year old-- why would anyone take him?"

"Good question. Why your family in particular, and why an infant? Someone would be taking on all of his care, and a baby needs a lot of it. Where did it happen?" Nick asked.

"We were in a Vault. Vault 111. Some sort of cryo facility." Delilah said. Pods-- pods in neat rows-- rows of graves-- rows and rows and rows of bodies, faceless and nameless, left forever underground in rows--

"You were on ice, huh? More importantly, you were underground. Sealed up. That's a lot of obstacles to get through just to take one person. What else can you tell me?" Nick asked. He saw your eyes glaze over. He knows the signs of flashbacks. He knows.

"My husband was murdered. He wouldn't let go of Shaun, wouldn't let them take him, and they… they just shot him. One bullet to the skull. It echoed so loudly." Nate was screaming, shouting at the figures, clutching Shaun tightly-- the shot was too loud, Shaun was screaming, Delilah's heart was breaking--

"So we're talking about a group of cold-hearted killers, but they waited until something went wrong to resort to violence. Anything else?" Nick asked.

"There was a man and a woman. They didn't say much, but the man-- he leaned in real close to the pod I was in, called me 'the backup'." Delilah said. Cold pod, cold room, blue blue everything blue, the man leaned in, met your eyes after he killed your husband and stole your son, walked away, left you to freeze-- At least we still have the backup--

"So we're talking a small team. Professionals. The kind that know to keep their lips tight when they're on the job. Not sure what 'the backup' means though…" Nick paused, thinking. "Well that confirms it. This isn't a random kidnapping. Whoever took your kid had an agenda. There's a lot of groups in the Commonwealth that take people. Raiders, super mutants, the Gunners, and of course there's the Institute."

"So you think this Institute is responsible?" Delilah asked.

"Well they're the boogeymen of the Commonwealth. Something goes wrong, everyone blames them. Easy to see why. Those early model synths of theirs strip whole towns for parts, killing everything in their way. Then you got the newer models, good as human, that infiltrate cities and pull strings from the shadows. Worst of all no one knows why they do it, what their plan is, or where they are. Not even me, and I'm a synth myself. A discarded prototype anyway." Nick told her.

"You're a prototype?"

"As far as I know. Never seen any other synth like myself. There's the older ones, that are dumb as rocks and all metal, then there's the newer models that are almost human. I'm somewhere in between." Nick explained.

"Either way I need to find Shaun." Delilah said sharply.

"You're right. The speculation is getting us off track. Let's focus on what you saw. What did these kidnappers look like?"

"The man came right up to me. Bald head, big scar across his left eye-- looked like the eye itself was damaged." Delilah said.

"Wait. It couldn't be… you didn't hear the name 'Kellogg' at all, did you?" Nick asked quickly.

"Who is he? Do you think he has Shaun?" Delilah asked.

"It's way too big of a coincidence. Ellie what notes do we have about the Kellogg case?" Nick turned to the woman.

"The description matches. Bald head, scar, reputation for dangerous mercenary work but no one knows who his employer is." Ellie said.

"And he bought a house here in town, right? And he had a kid with him, didn't he?" Nick asked.

"Yeah, that's right. The house in the abandoned West Stands. The boy with him was around ten years old." Ellie told him. A boy-- who else has he stolen?

"You said he lives here? He's still in town?" Delilah leaned forward.

"They both vanished a while back, if I'm remembering right, but that house is still there. Let's you and I take a walk over to Kellogg's last known address. See if we can snoop out where he went." Nick said, standing up. Delilah stood slowly, towering over both of them.

"Security doesn't really go to that part of town, but you two should still be careful." Ellie warned.

"I always am." Nick told her.

Chapter Text

As soon as they left the agency Preston and Cait reappeared.

"Where are we goin' next then?" Cait asked.

"The guy that took Shaun is named Kellogg. I'm going to break into his house." Delilah said to them.

"Hopefully not an actual break-in." Nick said.

"I'm going to kick down his door." Delilah told him as they began walking towards the West Stands.

"Maybe find a key?" Nick suggested.

"Remove the hinges."

"Pick the lock. Either way I didn't want Ellie to hear this but I think you should know-- everything I dug up about Kellogg before he disappeared is bad news. He's more than just a mercenary, he's a professional. Quick, clean, thorough. Has no enemies because they're all dead… except you." Nick said on the way up a narrow shaking walkway towards an old building. "But nine to one odds says he's our man. It's more than just you identifying his distinguishing features. The MO is all him as well. Leading a small team to kidnap a baby, and leaving one of the parents alive for later? Not many mercs in the Commonwealth can pull that off."

Delilah stepped up to the door, testing it. "Shit." She muttered, before rifling through her pockets for something to help pick the lock. She ultimately found a screwdriver and a bobby pin and slowly worked the lock open.

"Well ain't that something to watch." Cait said as Delilah pushed the door open.

The interior was small, barely able to count as two rooms. There was a desk, and a set of steps leading up to two beds.

"Let's take a look around. Kellogg must have left something behind." Nick said. Cait began digging through the boxes while Preston kept a lookout outside. Delilah stuffed as much junk as she could in her pockets and backpack. "Place seem small to you? Figure a guy like Kellogg would think big." Delilah opened all the drawers in the desk, and her hand found a button on the underside of the thick metal. She pressed it, and a wall opened up. "Well that's one way to hide a room."

Delilah barged through, looking around before shoving the weapons on the shelves into her bag, much like a burglar. Old habits-- "Gwinett Stout beer, .44 caliber bullets. And cigars-- 'San Francisco Sunlights'. Someone's fancy." Delilah said.

"Interesting brand. Won't lead us anywhere on its own, though."

"I've got a dog. Maybe he could help." Delilah said.

"Say that's not a bad idea. Some dogs out there in the Commonwealth can track a man for miles. Why don't you go fetch him and let him have a whiff? See if he picks up the trail." Delilah nodded. Cait was still clearing through boxes, and Nick took Del's shoulder, leaning in. "Before you head out… I know this is personal business. If you have to face Kellogg on your own, just say so."

"I want you with me on this, Nick. We need to head up to Sanctuary to get Dogmeat, you might as well come along." Delilah said.

"All right, let's get that bastard. This is your show from here on out, okay? You say jump, I'll say how high."

"You know she might actually take ya up on that offer, right?" Cait asked.

Chapter Text

"Hey, Mama Murphy." Delilah said.

"Hey, kid. Need the Sight? Because the Sight needs jet." Mama Murphy said.

"Yeah." Delilah said, handing her the chems. The woman inhaled the jet and leaned back.

"I can only see that you're on the right path. If you had any doubts in your mind, you shouldn't. The man you're after. He's the one. He wears all the pain he's caused like a shield. Be strong, kid. The Sight's getting... foggy... but your energy is glowing brighter than you know. You can win this. He can't hurt you anymore." Mama Murphy slumped forward, breathing heavily. "I'm good kid, don't worry about me. Go get him. Make him pay." Delilah left, the thoughts buzzing in her head.

She stood at one of the stations she'd set up, working through dense plans on grenade building. She stuffed an old baseball with pieces of glass and bits of rusted metal, packing them in with the intention of using it as a last resort on someone who absolutely deserved it. On Kellogg.

"Be careful, okay?" Preston said quietly. "We really can't lose our General."

"Is that a general 'we' or the royal 'we'?" Delilah asked. "Because if I died I'd miss you, too." Preston laughed.

"It's a general 'we' but thanks." He told her. Cait had made herself scarce, and Delilah headed south once more, now with Dogmeat and a synth detective in tow.

As they headed south Delilah found the classical radio station, which she decided to listen to. As they found a chair with cigars, followed by two dead raiders and bloodied bandages Delilah paused.

"Master mercenary leaves shit for us to follow?" She asked, glancing at Valentine as she rifled through the bodies. One of them had a switchblade, which she pocketed.

"Beats the hell out of me. Either he's laid out a trail or he's getting sloppy." Nick mused, lighting a cigarette.

"He got sloppy when he left me alive." Delilah said quietly, following Dogmeat.

"What the fuck. What the fuck. What the FUCK." Delilah said, ending up screaming as she pointed her pistol at an angry yao guai that had charged from the dark bushes, roared and then lunged at her. She danced around it, staying out of its reach while putting an entire magazine worth of bullets into the thing's head. Nick put two rounds into its legs, which helped stop its mobility. They were too close for the grenade, not with the shrapnel that would get thrown everywhere.

"Keep that thing in your sights, if it gets into the bushes or out of the light it'll tear us apart!" Nick shouted. As Delilah reloaded Dogmeat latched onto its neck, digging in and tearing at the bear. The thing hit him with a paw and the dog went flying, hitting the ground hard with a chunk of neck still in his jaws. Delilah saw red and charged it, kicking the bear in the face while still screaming, now about how no one messed with her dog. She put two more bullets in its head and then stomped on it as it fell to the ground, trying to smash the thing's skull like a radroach. She immediately ran to Dogmeat, who wagged his tail and licked her face.

"What the fuck is that thing, Nick?" She asked loudly as she checked Dogmeat's ribs.

"Yao guai. An irradiated bear. I hear they can also become ghouls." Nick explained as Delilah stood up, petting Dogmeat. He barked at her and bounded up the tracks, tail acting more as a flag than a rudder.

They reached Fort Hagen at dawn, the sky a sickly green. "Turrets on the walls." Delilah said, taking aim with her rifle. She took out three of the five, before moving towards the front door where Dogmeat was standing.

"Good boy." She told him, handing the dog a fistful of assorted meats she'd found in her backpack.

"Let's give the dog a break and get into the basement. That should put us closer to wherever Kellogg's holed up." Nick suggested. She nodded, giving Dogmeat a final pat on the head and then breaking open the door to the basement.

Chapter Text

Synth after synth attacked them, and the narrow hallways cluttered with rubble and trash did more to hurt their chances than help them. Delilah began shouting in Spanish when a laser blast singed her arm, and she kicked the offending synth's head across the room. Kicking old cans across empty parking lots, speaking in two languages--a home one and a public one, fighting the other kids when they looked at you funny--

"Now where the fuck do we go?" She snapped as they reached another locked terminal.

"Mind mentioning what you're saying when you're shouting at the synths? Just out of curiosity." Nick asked.

"Mostly 'fuck you to the sun and back', but there are some 'bastards' and detailing how I'm going to use their parts for turrets." She said, kicking open a door.

"All right."

"Unlock that terminal would you? These things have locks on them and we're making good time so far." Delilah asked. Nick complied, deactivating the turrets and opening the security doors connected to it. "Thanks." She said as she shoved junk in her pockets.

They moved in relative silence, the mix of emotions running through Delilah slowly beginning to lose their names. She was ready to put a bullet in Kellogg's brain, ready to get everything he knew out of him-- she was ready to tear him open to get what she wanted.

He stares up at you, eyes unfocused, bones broken. You'd broken him. He gave you everything you wanted in exchange for his life-- and you broke his skull with your boot when you were done with him. Your boss sent the pieces of him to the station where he worked.

She ran her hand along the switchblade she'd picked up. It was serrated, and she knew how to twist the blade around to get what she wanted.

You truly are something. Not someone. You haven't been a person for a long time. She pushed open another door, looking for anything she could snatch. 

It took so long to return from what you were. You'd really abandon Nate and his ideals so quickly? You kill his memory by trying to end his killer. She pulled out a pack of cigarettes and an old letter from a spouse. She dropped the letter. You care more for the dog than your husband. 

There were beer bottles in one of the showers. She put them in her bag to use later. You don't have to end this in blood. There's still time to relent.

As they moved towards the red door she paused, the words finally making sense to her. "He can't hurt you any more." It felt like a week ago that she'd visited Mama Murphy. It always felt like weeks after she'd talked to someone. There was an ache in her chest that felt like dread as she faced the door. That's not dread or terror you're feeling. She couldn't place it. And then she realised. 

It's hope.

Chapter Text

"Okay. You made it."  He's defeated and he knows it. "I'm just up ahead. My synths are standing down." Delilah pushed through the door, running down the hallway.

"Delilah, wait, slow down that's a trap--" Nick said, running after her. The door swung shut and locked loudly before he could go through. It doesn't matter-- he's so close-- you're almost there-- murder him, kill him, rip him apart-- She turned the corner, heading through a second security gate into a long, dark room. From the clouded windows on the left she could see the first terminal and the way they'd come in. He watched you come through here. He watched you double back to make sure you weren't going the wrong way. 

"There she is. Most resilient woman in the Commonwealth. Funny, I thought I had that honour." Lights turned on and synths stepped out of hiding. As did Kellogg. Shoot him now-- shoot him now, he'll kill you otherwise! She stepped towards him fearlessly. The man was grinning--he's smirking, dumbass, can't you tell?-- and his gun was pointed to the ceiling. Grip loose, casual-- he's too casual, what's he planning-- He stepped towards her tiredly. Squared shoulders, too much weight held in the knees-- he's hiding something from you, he's hiding something important-- what is it? What is it?

Delilah stared him down. Murderer, kidnapper-- how many has he harmed? How much blood is on his hands? How much blood is on yours? The man who'd murdered her husband, stolen her son-- there was rage and hatred in her and it terrified her. All that stood between her and her son was in front of her. You're not that different, you know. This room is filled with the blood of the dead. You're both dripping with it. You know who you've hurt. You know who you've killed. You know who he's hurt. You know who he's killed.

"So, here we are. Funny, huh?" Kellogg said. His smile is forced-- he's trying to make it seem even-- natural-- what is he doing?

"You killed my husband. Kidnapped my baby." She bit out. A murdering psychopath stands in front of you, taunting you with hints of your baby. He murdered your husband, he murdered Nate--

"Getting right to it, then huh? Fine. Your son, Shaun. Great kid. A little older than you may have expected, but I'm guessing you figured that out by now." There's something off. Mercenaries weren't like this. You would know. His shoulders sagged too much, he was putting up too much of a show. So what are you going to do? Spare him? Of course you are-- how could you not? You trust too easily. You trust too much. "But if you're hoping for a happy reunion? Ain't gonna happen, pal. Your boy's not here." No. You're not going to spare him-- your hatred and rage have returned-- hell hath no fury like a woman wronged-- Delilah punched him in the face, a left hook into his jaw that sent him staggering to the side. Especially if that woman is 6'9'' and has a history of violence and organised crime--

She kicked him in the stomach and grabbed his pistol, throwing it across the room. She then raised her own, putting a bullet in each synth's head as they moved to fire on her. 

Kellogg was up again, slamming into her and reaching for her pistol. She pressed the barrel to his side and fired twice, kicking directly into his knee. It bent backwards with a loud pop-crack and she flipped him onto his back. He rolled to the side away from the boot she sent at his head, coming up to punch her in the stomach. The bullets did nothing how did they do nothing--

She fired her pistol again, into his right arm and he slammed his fist into her wrist, knocking her pistol from her hands, her wrist cracking loudly. She immediately kicked it away, elbowing him in the neck and kneeing him in the crotch.  You won't need it for this fight. You know how to beat a man with your fists. "You've taken everything from me you bastard!" She shouted, slamming her fist into his nose, snarling as it broke. There was blood everywhere, most of it from Kellogg. He tried to sit up, and she put her fist in his throat, . "You could have gotten mercy-- you could have gotten a quick death, but you know what?" She leaned in, hands wrapped around his throat, choking the life out of him, "You threw that option away when you shot my husband." He punched her in the face, her jaw snapping to the side with a crack and his other fist hit her in the sternum. She choked, the air leaving her lungs and he kicked her off of him. She landed hard, staring at the ceiling while trying not to vomit. She sat up quickly, scrambling to her feet and heading towards him, pushing her jaw back into position.

Kellogg stumbled backwards while bending his knee back into its normal position while moving for his gun and trying to keep Delilah in his line of vision. He held up a hand, grinning as he turned on a stealth boy and vanished.

"So you're scared, then? Of course you are. Because I'm going to hurt you." Delilah said, picking up a metal folding chair casually and moving through the room. "I'm going to hurt you so bad you'll plead with me to end it. I'm going to break your fingers and toes. I'm going to burn you. I'm going to cut out your eyes. I'll rip out whatever shit you've got in you to keep you going, and then I'll keep doing awful things to you." He doesn't deserve mercy-- don't you dare show him mercy-- what would Nate do if he were here, and you were dead in the Vault? What would he do?

She heard soft footsteps behind her and didn't turn. This is your element-- terror and intimidation-- you left this! How could you leave this, you can feel the fear, he knows he's fucked up so much-- Delilah was getting scared. The hatred and cruelty boiling in her stomach were emotions she'd fought to move past. You know you want to kill him. It's in your bones, it's what you do-- She kept talking, relying on memories of those tactics, stored both in her brain and in her muscles,

"Nick Valentine was the only thing keeping me from ripping you apart, putting you back together again and killing you a second time. You closed that door on him, you closed that option." He was behind her, she could hear him. He's sloppy-- his body doesn't want to die, it moves by itself. She spun, the chair extended outward in a horrible parody of a propeller, and it collided with an invisible body with a satisfying clang. She kicked outwards, her foot meeting something solid and unseen, and she backed up. He's-- use the-- he's wounded, weak-- break him, kill him-- 

She grabbed the baseball grenade. Filled with glass and scrap and hate-- She lit the fuse and threw it at where the air was quietly groaning in pain. It collided with something, dropping to the ground and Delilah dove behind a terminal as it exploded. She looked around the corner, where Kellogg was splayed out on the floor, stunned, bleeding from where shrapnel was embedded in his body. He's lucky he didn't lose an eye-- Delilah was completely willing to gouge out his eyes. She charged. He didn't have time to react as she landed on him, knees first, fist in his face. The side of his head was split open from either the grenade or the fall, and she could see metal in his skull.

He gurgled, whether from his own blood running down his throat or from trying to speak, she didn't know. And she didn't care. She was where she belonged, destroying those who thought they could cross her. Kellogg's hands were grabbing at her own, he was trying to twist out of her grip. She rose up slightly, and sent her knee back down into his stomach. 

"I hear you don't have enemies, because they're all dead! Well guess what you sick sack of shit--" She leaned in close as she grabbed at the side of his head, pulling at the exposed metal in his skull, "You should have killed me." Kellogg stopped moving, going limp. Delilah paused, making sure he'd actually passed out, and pulled the handcuffs Cait had found in his house out of her bag. She bound his hands behind his back and forced him to his knees, cuffing one wrist to a pipe using another set she'd picked up, and then using a third pair of handcuffs to bind his ankles together.

She glanced at the side of his head and gagged. His skull was partially split open and she could see part of his brain. She could also see a lot of metal. Without much hesitation she pulled on the pieces, slowly removing a thick metal rectangle and putting it on the terminal desk. There was a click from behind her as the door swung open.

"Delilah!" He shouted, running for her. She didn't respond, still pulling at his brain. He grabbed her shoulder with his good hand.

"Hi." She seemed calmer, almost serene, even though Kellogg's face looked like she'd slammed him into a brick wall repeatedly.

"What're you gonna do with him?" Nick asked.

"I'm going to make him tell me everything he knows." Delilah told him, removing another piece of metal. "Get into that terminal, would you please? Password." She tossed him the holotape with the password and he nodded, heading for the locked terminal. She removed part of Kellogg's skull. The mercenary moved, fighting to lift his head.

"Are you even human?" Delilah asked, ripping another piece of metal out and eliciting a small grunt. Keep it casual, acting like it's normal always scares the victims, he'll tell you everything he knows-- She stood up, heading to where their guns had fallen. She shoved her pistol in her belt and kept Kellogg's in her hand. She casually moved to stand over Kellogg once again, holding the barrel above his skull. This is where you belong. Above prisoners, working as judge, jury and executioner.

"Maybe I should just put you down." She said calmly, gun steady. "You still have information I need, though. So, feel like having a chat?"

"There's no option to say no to you, you scheming asshole." Kellogg snarled. "Fine. What do you want."

"Tell me where Shaun is. Now." She said coldly. You're taller than him-- you've done this before, towering over allies and targets-- everyone breaks in the end-- If she could figure out what was off, she could use it.

"Fine. I guess you've earned that much. Shaun's in a good place. Where he's safe, and comfortable, and loved. A place he calls home. The Institute." It was too convenient, she realised. Too many stops, too many pieces for a trail. He's left a trail on purpose. He wanted you to find him.

"The Institute?" The boogeyman of this hellhole? Delilah laughed, a harsh broken sound with more teeth than mirth. She knew the scars on her face were twisting into something nearly demonic. Nick looked up at her, worried. "Well I'll find him. No matter where he is." It's really quite funny, isn't it? He thinks he's going to dissuade you. He thinks he's going to scare you. Her laughter was reaching a shrill cackle, her gun still trained on his head. There's fear now. You can see it, can't you? In his eyes. He's just realised how much he's fucked up, by losing a fight, by leaving a trail, by letting you get close enough for combat. Now he knows that whatever was in that vault, whatever creature whose family got ripped apart, it wasn't stable. It wasn't sane, it was cruel and wild and dangerous-- and he left it a trail to find him. "Nothing. Will. Stop. Me." Delilah stopped laughing, voice going cold and even, her smile vanishing as she stared him down.

"God, you're persistent. I give you credit. It's the way a mother should act. The way I'd be acting if I were in your place, I like to think. Even if it is useless. But I think we've been talking long enough. We both know how this has to end." He said, smirking again. She smiled slightly as the pieces fell into place. He wants to die. He let an irate mother track him down and he put his own gun away to talk with you. She lowered her gun.

"You wanted me to find you," she said calmly, "didn't you? You left one long trail all the way here. Tell me the truth then. What do you gain from this?" There was a flash of confusion on his face, replaced by a cold sneer. He knows you've figured it out.

"So you really think you're the first one to try this? Try to figure me out?" He asked.

"No. But it's pretty obvious. Why would you want me to find you?" Delilah asked sharply. "You know, you're a dog. A monster. The Commonwealth would be safer if I splattered your brains across the room." She said, putting the gun back to his head. There was something resembling hope on his face. Nate looked at you with pride when you told him you were giving up crime. He hugged you and promised to help in any way he could. When you needed to hide for a while he opened his doors to you. Eventually he opened his bed. You see his smile in everything good here. "I'm not going to. There's been enough killing." She holstered her pistol with finality. "I'm not going to waste my time with revenge. It's not worth it." Now he looked stunned.

"Why?" Kellogg asked angrily.

"It's what he would have wanted. He--the man you murdered in Vault 111, my husband, Nate-- would never have stood for revenge. I guarantee it." Delilah glanced at the door, "You want to die. I can see it. I'm not going to kill you. I just want my son back." Just a baby-- searching the whole Commonwealth in an unfamiliar time, can you see the people who helped you? They're watching you, waiting for your decision--

"You're not getting him back. Not like you knew him."

"Then I want to see him again." Delilah stepped away from him, leaning against a wall.

"Can't do that." He replied.

"Why not?"

"Don't have the authorisation." He was going to wind her up enough that she'd kill him out of frustration. She knew that. She wouldn't let him. Wind him up, see what he does when angry-- wind you up, see how painful his death would be--

"Why do you do so much community work? You don't have time for it." Delilah asked over dinner. Nate laughed, shifting his weight in the diner booth.

"Why not? World's pretty busted up. Might as well make it a little less busted." He said.

"Is that why after I told you what I'd done, every awful thing I'd ever decided to do, you hugged me and told me how proud you were?" She raised an eyebrow.

"I've never seen the point of kicking someone while they're down. You came to me and opened yourself up. You truly regret most of it, and I respect that. I am proud of you, Delilah. For feeling the need to fix what you'd done, and for feeling strong enough to tell someone."

"You're a beacon of infinite mercy, you know that?"

"That's why I've only taken civilian v. bigwig cases."

You would abandon his ideals. You would abandon all the work you put in. You would abandon everything you did, everything you worked to do-- for revenge.

Isn't it called 'heaping hot coals'? To show mercy, only to then use it as a crueler revenge?

"What if I gave you protection from the Institute? A place they can't reach you?" At what point did you think 'show mercy' and then decide 'give murdering mercenary a home where civilians live'.

"Why the hell would you do that?" Kellogg asked, annoyed, glancing between the both of them.

"Because I believe in the best in everyone." She told him calmly. No you don't. Nate did. "You're a cruel murdering piece of shit and you've taken everything I love from me. And I'm done letting you take what you want." Because he can't hurt you anymore. "So," She pulled a chair to her side with her foot, sitting down casually, "Let's talk."

"I'm a hired gun. There's no way for me to tell you everything you want to know. And no way to verify it." Kellogg told her shifting his weight off of his hands. Delilah frowned slightly.

"While I'm all for getting as much information out of the guy as possible, don't you think you're being a bit lenient?" Nick asked. He was still digging through Kellogg's terminal, his back to them both.

"Are your hands going numb?" Delilah asked, genuinely interested.

"Wouldn't be able to tell." Kellogg said, annoyed.

"Why not?"

"Cybernetic pain inhibitors. Got a whole bunch of metal in my head. Well, I guess most of it's on the floor now, seeing as you went and pulled it out." He's barely human, isn't he?

"So when I punched you did you feel it?"

"Why is that your go-to question?" Nick asked.

"I'm a fighter, not a lover." Delilah replied. Bloody fists, broken glass and broken bones, bruises and cuts and pain--

"If that's true why am I alive?" Kellogg asked suspiciously.

"Because if the man you killed in the vault was here right now, he would have told me to spare you." Delilah said quietly. Nick stood up from the terminal, eyeing the two.

"So this chat is nice and all, but we need to get moving." Nick said.

"Are you going to kill me now?" Kellogg asked.

"No." Delilah said, standing. The two men watched her with confusion. "I gave you an offer. Protection from the Institute." She stepped over to Kellogg, unlocking his handcuffs. "Because I get the feeling you've got reason to hate them too." He slumped backwards, staring up at her.

"Why the hell are you like this?" The mercenary asked.

"That's a question I ask myself every day. Why do you want to die?"

"Because there's nothing left for me. There's nothing good about this world. And you were my best shot at getting out of it."

"There is good, though."

"Are you about to say you're one of the good ones?"

"I'm never going to be one of the good ones, Kellogg. I'm trying to make the world better." She offered him a hand. "I know what it's like, you know. Looking out the window and seeing nothing but shit. I also know it's really fucking hard to change your life or the world around you by yourself. So I'm giving you a step up. A chance to fix things. If you're willing. If not, I'll give you your gun back. And you can leave." 

Kellogg stared up at her. He didn't move. He won't take your hand, you know. There's no way for him to come back from what he's done, no way for him to clean his sins from his body, no way for him to-- His cold, rough hand gripped hers. She closed her fingers tightly around his wrist and pulled him to his feet. He's almost as tall as you. Almost.

"Fine. If just to wait and tell your corpse you were an idiot when the Institute comes knocking." He spat.

"You know I'm really hard to kill, right?" Delilah smiled. There was something in his face that almost resembled amusement at that.

Chapter Text

"We need a way to get the truth out of him." Nick said to Delilah. "And I'm not sure what it'd be."

"Can we put wires in his brain?" Delilah asked.

"How would that help?"

"Well, we put the wires in his brain, then we hook those up to a terminal. Anything he thinks we can see." She suggested.

"That's an insane idea, you know that right?" Nick said.

"You realise that I can hear you." Kellogg said from behind them."

"No one cares." Nick told him. "Brain reading, huh? I think I figured it out. That idea has more weight than you realised."

"Can't wait." Delilah said as she pushed open the rooftop access to the fort. Nick went through first, Kellogg followed, and Delilah took up the rear. She stopped, staring at where Nick was looking at the sky.

"Deep into that darkness, peering/Long I stood there, wondering, fearing." He said quietly. Delilah was confused before the rumble of something very large hit her. She looked up, standing up straight and gaping as a massive airship passed overhead, illuminated in the pre-dawn sky by lights. Vertibirds took off from it, holding a tight formation.

"People of the Commonwealth. Do not interfere. Our intentions are peaceful. We are the Brotherhood of Steel." Intercoms from the ship blared the message, and they watched it move through the sky, towards the coast.

"Holy fucking shit." Del said quietly.

"Flying that ship into the heart of the Commonwealth. Mark my words, the Brotherhood's here to start a war." Nick said, watching the ships leave.

"Fucking NCR bullshit all over again." Kellogg muttered.

"Do the who what?" Delilah asked. He didn't respond. "So are you going to explain some of this to me or am I going to beat it out of you?" Delilah asked, staring the mercenary down.

"I can't explain it to you. I'm not big on talking and there's so much I'd need to elaborate on. I'd have to write a book." Kellogg told her. She frowned. "And you probably pulled parts of whatever makes words work out."

"If there was a way to show her the memories you'd need to use, would you go for that option?" Nick asked.

"Don't know how that'd be managed, but that'd work." The man said.

"The Memory Den in Goodneighbor's got tech that can show you your memories, let you relive them." Nick told them.

"Do you want to try that?" Delilah asked.

"Don't see how I'd say no." Kellogg replied.

"We'd be opening up your brain. It's kind of a violating thing." Delilah explained as they climbed off the roof. Dogmeat greeted them on the ground. "More than me ripping bits of it out anyway."

"I'm your prisoner, right?" Kellogg said. "There ain't a way to decline."

They entered Goodneighbor as the sun was going down. There was a man in old road leathers standing by a low wall smoking. He looked delighted to see them.

"Hey, hold up there! First time in Goodneighbor? Can't go walking around without insurance."

"Unless it's 'keep dumb assholes away from me' insurance, I'm not interested." Del said in a monotone. Dogmeat growled at him.

"Now don't be like that. I think you're going to like what I have on offer. You hand over everything you got in them pockets, or 'accidents' start happening to you. Big bloody 'accidents'." He told them. Delilah looked angry. Threats, violence, the only way this ends is with a bullet--

"Whoa. Someone steps through the gate the first time, they're a guest. You lay off that extortion crap." A ghoul said, walking out from an alley.

"Just walk on by. Finn talks big game but he doesn't do much else." Nick told her quickly. She didn't get to the end of his sentence before she'd pulled Kellogg's pistol from her belt and pointed it at Finn's head. You've dealt with his kind before--

"I'm not here to let assholes bully people that can't defend themselves." She said as she shot him. Finn looked absolutely shocked as he died, halfway through a sentence with the ghoul.

"Whoa, ho ho, I like you already! Walk into a new place, make a show of dominance. Nice." The man said, grinning. Delilah put her pistol away, walking up to him casually.

"Or you could shoot the guy." Nick muttered. Kellogg laughed.

"Don't worry Nicky, I probably would have put him in the ground anyway." The man said, smiling at the synth. "Saved me the effort."

"So what happened to your face?" Delilah asked. She could hear Nick groan behind her.

"Could ask you the same. I think it gives me a sexy 'king of the zombies' kind of look. Big hit with the ladies. I'm a ghoul, you see? Lot of walking rad freaks like me around here, so you might want to keep those kinds of questions on the low burner next time. Goodneighbor's of the people, for the people, you feel me? Everyone's welcome."

"Goodneighbor? Little on the nose." Delilah said.

"That's right. We cobbled this little neighbourhood together out of the freaks and misfits that just wouldn't be accepted anywhere else. You'll see. Make enough friends here, you'll call this place home soon enough. So long as you remember who's in charge." He said, turning and walking into the alley again.

"Mayor John Hancock." Nick said, stepping up next to her. "And maybe don't ask that stuff?"

"Sorry." Delilah said.

"Come on, before Kellogg emulates you and shoots up the town." Nick said.

"You have my gun." The mercenary told them.

The Memory Den looked like an upper-class brothel or a fancy hotel. The air was thick with sweet-smelling smoke, and there were more candles than seemed safe. A blonde woman reclined on a fainting couch, eyeing them as the odd trio came in.

"Now, you don't look like usual Memory Den clients. What can I do for you, sweetheart?" The woman asked.

"I need to see this guy's memories. Specific ones. It's important." Delilah said quickly.

"Well honey I'm not in charge of that sort of thing. Doctor Amari is. She's downstairs, why don't you go speak with her?" The woman suggested.

"Thanks." Delilah told her, and they walked down the creaking wooden steps into a laboratory. A woman turned as they entered.

"Hey, Doctor Amari. Got a weird request for you." Nick said.

"And what is it?" the woman asked impatiently.

"This dame needs to see some particular memories. Only problem is they're deep in this guy's grey matter. Got any ideas?"

"Well normally we set it up so that the client sees their own memories. However, we may be able to change the routing, much like how Irma upstairs can watch as well. It would be risky, though."

"I'm willing to do anything." Delilah said.

"If that's true… fine. I'll begin work on the memory pod. You, sit in the other one." Amari pointed for Kellogg to sit. "Wait." She stopped. "You're…" She stared him down.

"Hi." Was all Kellogg said.

"Don't worry, somehow this girl got him on a leash." Nick told the doctor.

"That doesn't comfort me at all."

"I also have some pieces of metal that have brain gunk on them." Delilah said casually, pulling one out of her pocket.

"Have you been carrying those in…" Kellogg started. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"A lot. If you don't want to hook brain wires up to the mass murderer I completely understand. You can hook brain wires up to this funky thing," she said and glanced at the plate itself, "which may or may not be rotting. Or covered in dirt and lint. Ew," She said.

"I'd much rather use the pods properly. Sit down, Kellogg, and don't move." He did, and Amari connected several wires. "Now, you," she pointed to Delilah, "sit in the other pod and don't move." Delilah complied. The television screen turned on as the humming of machines grew louder.

Gunshots. Cement floors. Dead grass, dead trees, running from something bigger than you--

Delilah could feel something else with her, something moving through her consciousness alongside her thoughts. As she turned she found herself in a simple concrete room. A woman and a boy sat nearby, and Kellogg was leaning against a wall.

Chapter Text

"Mom knew how it was." Kellogg said, looking at the woman, "She wasn't soft, but she loved me in her way. And she protected me from dad." He chuckled. "That cost her a few beatings. I never knew what happened to her after I left. I didn't want to know--" He walked toward them, glaring, "I was such a dummy back then. What did I know about how the world worked-- I told myself I wanted to be somewhere out from under the thumb of the NCR. But really, I was running from the guilt of not protecting her from dad. Doesn't matter now though--"

"Why not? Because they're both dead? Because you expect to die soon?" Delilah cut him off, ignoring the unfamiliar words. The gist was clear and painfully familiar. A child from the West, in a bad situation being given bad information-- 

"Because nothing matters anymore--" Kellogg snapped. The area shifted, a woman washing in a decrepit sink, a crib in the corner. A man who looked like a younger Kellogg was helping her.

"I was the worst thing that ever happened to her." Kellogg said, leaning on the other side of the counter, staring at her. "If she'd never met me, she'd have stayed in the Hub, maybe hooked up with someone who didn't kill people for a living. Probably been happier than she was with me. Almost certainly lived longer--" He looked down.

"Were you happy together?" Delilah asked. He laughed harshly.

"The thing about happiness is that you only know you had it when it's gone. I mean, you may think to yourself that you're happy. But you don't really believe it. You focus on the petty bullshit, or the next job, or whatever. It's only looking back by comparison with what comes after that you really understand, that's what happiness felt like." She looked in the crib, where a baby girl lay, smiling up at nothing.

"You had a daughter." Delilah said softly.

"I got them both killed." Kellogg said dismissively.

"You think that's unique?" Delilah turned to him.

"What the hell would you know about this?" He turned away from the woman, staring at Del.

"I think we have more in common than you think." She told him matter-of-factly.

"Then tell me." Kellogg ordered.

"I thought I was going to survive." Delilah said. "That's all I had, surviving. Parents didn't help. They weren't okay people. Never gave me privacy but they also never asked me about myself. Manipulative, I guess they'd be called. Telling me they knew best, that no, being a… being a scientist, it wasn't a good plan for me. For a woman. Might want to take up accounting, or law. Shit got worse later on, there was a divorce and a couple new step-parents, each progressively worse than the last. Poor as shit, we were. I grew up eating mostly potatoes and rice."

Delilah kicked at the wall to see if it was real. Her foot bumped against it. "Ended up running with gangs because it brought cash in. I never went to college, just left home after one of these ass-wipes got drunk and tried to kill me. I just… left home and didn't call back ever again. Never looked back. Ended up in Texas, broke and hungry. So I joined another gang. Ran with them, hurt a lot of people. Hurt… hurt a whole lot of people. Moved towns again after I got out. Killed the entirety of those guys, kept moving east. Ended up in Boston. Fell in with another bad crowd. Got out. Bounced from part-time job to part-time job. Joined the military. More as an attempt to set things right with my particular skill set than actually out of loyalty to my country.  Met a girl, met a guy. Then the Great War started." Delilah explained as they stood in the bare kitchen. Murderer thief joker spy-- slaughterer of innocence, you should have died instead of him you don't deserve redemption-- the voice boomed in the silence, and Kellogg looked confused for a moment before glaring again. He hears your sins.

"Bullshit." Kellogg snapped.

"Which part?"

"The military part."

"Fine. I didn't have a lot of part-time work, as soon as I got out of the last gang I joined up to save my ass. When the Great War started up I volunteered for the front lines. I wanted money. I wanted status. I wanted death." Delilah spat.

"Never worried about you before. Must be my mama instincts kicking in. Who knew I had those, huh?" The woman said from the table. They turned to the memories. Delilah's own resurfaced.

"How the hell am I going to raise-- how are we going to raise this kid? I know jack shit about this." Delilah was holding Shaun, staring down at the tiny little baby in her arms. Nate had his arm around her shoulders.

"We'll do great, I know it." He looked at her with complete love and trust.

"We're not similar." Kellogg said. The memory had disintegrated around them and they stood in a dark void.

"Never said we were." Delilah shot back. And yet you speak as if you are--

"How did you think this was going to end, Kellogg? You thought you could just fuck with us and we wouldn't fuck with you? Just so you know-- they died like dogs. And you weren't there to help them." Memory-Kellogg was charging down a concrete hallway, gun out while someone shouted at him over an intercom.

"Who is that?" Delilah asked.

"That was the guy I was working for. Emphasis on 'was'." Kellogg said bitterly. "There's nothing in this world that is good. You know why? Because it's ruined. It's ruined forever and no amount of little 'good' acts will fix it." He folded his arms, facing away from the open metal door.

"You're wrong. It's the little 'good' acts that make it better." Delilah told him.

"You didn't lose your husband and child because of your direct actions." Kellogg snapped.

"You honestly don't think I've ever fucked up enough to get people killed?" She asked.

"Then who did you kill?" Kellogg asked mockingly.

"My cousin. My first boyfriend. My best friend. Some random fucking guy-- and after that anyone who fucking got in my way. Cousin was killed because I wasn't paying attention to where he was playing. Got bit by a rattlesnake. First boyfriend? Gang warfare. Got killed to hurt me. It fucking worked. Best friend-- got his legs blown out by a landmine up in Anchorage because I didn't do my fucking job properly. The guy-- he was a goddamn civilian, didn't do a goddamn thing except piss off the gang leader for some fucking stupid reason. I shot the guy in the face. He was begging me not to the entire time." Delilah said angrily, inches from the mercenary's face. "And I killed my way across the whole damn US for money, medicine and self-preservation."

"Fine."

"Your brain is waging war against you too, I can see that. That's why I spared you. Because you're at the end of your rope." Delilah hadn't moved.

"Why, though?"

"Because where you only see wasteland and cruelty, I've found hope. There's a woman in Sanctuary. She had a vision before I left to find you. She said, 'He wears all the pain he's caused like a shield. You can win this. He can't hurt you anymore.' You can't hurt me, Kellogg. So let me help you."

"You know nothing about me."

"I think I do."

"I can and will hurt you."

"No you won't."

"What makes you so damn sure?"

"Because you're tired. You hoped for death, I refused. You've got nothing left. Except forward. And I'm the one leading you forward."

"How the fuck are you so damn trusting?"

"I'm not. I'm running on compassion."

"Why? That's the thing that confuses me-- why the hell are you showing me compassion?"

"Because my husband-- the man you murdered-- would have done the same. If the person I was eleven months before I met him was the one facing you in Fort Hagen I wouldn't have killed you quickly. Your blood and limbs would be painting the walls. You'd be alive, slowly tortured to death. I don't like who I was back then. Believe me, you almost made me go back. You heard me talking to you. I heard me talking to you. Those things I said-- I meant them. I was willing to rip you apart. But I remembered why Nate showed me-- showed me mercy. I can't let Nate down. Not again." You will let him down you always do everyone who's ever trusted you has been let down that's what happens when you let them in they die in horrific ways you see at night you're better off gone--

"Touching. Truly." Kellogg said flatly.

"So show me what I need." Delilah snapped.

"If you want to find your kid so badly, all right."

Chapter Text

He's standing in front of a table where a woman is flanked by synths. "So, you're with the Institute. I wanted to see for myself if you really existed."

"There I am." Kellogg said, pointing. Memory Kellogg looked the same as Real Kellogg. Real Kellogg looked like he was trying to place when the memory took place.

"You're old as fuck." Delilah said.

"How observant." The mercenary sighed.

"We do, as you can see." The memory woman said calmly.

"Never liked her." Kellogg muttered.

"Really? You two are so alike." Delilah replied.

"What do you want?" Memory Kellogg asked.

"Real original, Kellogg." Delilah told him.

"It's a fucking question." Kellogg snapped.

"It's come to our attention that you've been rather disruptive of our operations lately. This must stop." The woman sounded like they were in a job interview.

"She's so firm. In her words" Delilah said, adding the last part quickly.

"I'm ignoring that part." Kellogg turned away.

"The words part? You're saying she's firm?" Delilah asked curiously.

"I'm ignoring everything you just said." Kellogg said, exasperated.

"I do what people pay me to do. If that's a problem for you, I can see only one way out." 

"And what's that, Mr Kellogg?" The woman looked unperturbed.

"If I'm working for you, there's no more problem. From what I hear, you can afford me."

"Wow someone's desperate." Delilah said. Real Kellogg looked like he wanted to smash his head in on a wall.

"I don't think you fully understand the situation you're in." The woman told him sharply.

"I think I do--" Memory Kellogg replied.

"Too early." Kellogg looked frustrated. 

"You went and prostituted your gun arm to a secret society?" Delilah asked.

"That's inaccurate and disgusting." Kellogg told her harshly.

"Says the gun for hire."

"Stop talking and watch, would you?"

Manual override initiated Cryogenic stasis suspended 

They were in the vault again. Memory Kellogg had two scientists in hazmat gear with him. One booted up the terminal, looking intently at the screen. "Vault computers are still working. That's good. Checking through the logs. Hopefully it's all…" He said.

"Just find it." Memory Kellogg sounded tired.

"Pod C6. Down the hall near the end." The man gestured, not leaving the terminal.

"This is the one. Here." The woman said, pointing.

"Open it." Kellogg ordered. The pod opened, and Nate was looking around, holding Shaun tightly.

"Is it over? Are we okay?" Nate asked, his voice loud in the cold concrete room.

"Almost. Everything's going to be fine." Memory Kellogg said.

"What a fucking lie." Delilah said.

"Come here… come here baby…" The scientist reached for them.

"Wait, no-- no, I've got him!" Nate knew something was wrong, Delilah realised that. She didn't want to look at herself in the pod, or continue watching. Not when she knew exactly what was going to happen.

"Let the boy go. I'm only gonna tell you once." Memory Kellogg pulled his gun.

"I'm not giving you Shaun!" Nate shouted. The gunshot was too loud. It echoed too much--

"You just fucking shot him. Do you know how many times I see that shit?" Delilah asked sharply, turning to him.

"Do you know how many times I do?" Kellogg replied.

"God dammit." Memory Kellogg spat. "Get the kid out of here, let's go. At least we still have the backup." He leaned into the pod where she had been trapped. They stared at each other. He walked away.

Cryogenic sequence reinitialised 

"What's the holdup?" The man at the terminal didn't turn to Kellogg.

"I'm almost finished, Kellogg. I just need to confirm… all right. We're good." He said, straightening up.

"There's a reason they all died-- that's why--" Delilah said as the memory faded.

"Loose ends." Kellogg told her matter-of-factly. Rows of corpses rows of coffins rows and rows and rows--

"Bastard." Delilah spat. They weren't looking at each other, standing in the void while the next memory was found.

"You wanted to know." He told her.

"Bastard."

The house in Diamond City materialised around them. Memory Kellogg was sitting in a chair, facing the door, while a boy was sitting on the floor, drawing. Someone appeared in a flash of light in front of them.

"Kellogg." The man said.

"That courser was the one handing me the assignments." Kellogg said.

"One of these days you're going to get your head blown off, just barging in here like that." Memory Kellogg told him.

"Really have a way with words don't you." Delilah said.

"Minimising my exposure to civilians is a priority." The man replied.

"Ha, exposure." Delilah grinned.

"Is it possible for you to stop talking." Kellogg snapped.

"Forget I said anything. So what's the big crisis this time?" Memory Kellogg stood up, walking towards the man.

"New orders for you. One of our scientists has left the Institute." 

"Left as in…?" Memory Kellogg asked.

"He's gone rogue. Name's Doctor Brian Virgil. We know he's hiding somewhere in the Glowing Sea. Here's his file." A folder was handed over.

"Wow. Some heads are gonna roll for this. Capture and return or just elimination?" Memory Kellogg asked casually.

"Elimination. He was working on a highly classified program." The man told him.

"No kidding. One of the top Bioscience boys? Damn. So I guess you're taking the kid back with you." There was just a hint of disappointment in Memory Kellogg's tone.

"You'll miss him won't you."  Delilah said.

"Shut up." Kellogg told her.

"Affirmative. Your only mission is to locate and eliminate Virgil." The man ordered.

"The kid's all right. Too trusting, sure, but he's turned out all right." Kellogg muttered, looking down at the boy.

"He looks familiar. " Delilah said.

"You're taking me home to my father?" The child asked, standing up.

"Yes. Stand next to me and hold still." 

"He always has a way with words." Kellogg didn't watch, intent on the desk. 

"Okay." The boy said.

"X6-88, ready to Relay with Shaun." 

"Shaun?" Delilah asked.

"Shut your mouth." Kellogg snapped, with more exhaustion than anger. Delilah ran towards the figures, studying the boy and committing his face to memory.

"Bye, Mr Kellogg! I hope I'll see you again sometime!" Shaun said happily. They vanished in blue light.

"Bye." Memory Kellogg said. Delilah straightened up, staring at the spot they'd been.

"Aren't you precious." Delilah said quietly, with no real intent for humour.

"Shut the fuck up." Kellogg told her. Something shifted in the room, and the memory broke down around them.

Delilah woke up, eyes flying open and she sat up, hitting her head on the top of the pod. It opened and she stood up, turning to the doctor and Nick.

"Okay I'm gonna need… Wait what the fuck." She said. Nick was hooked up to several wires and looking worried.

"The memory transplant was unstable. Mr Valentine took it upon himself to use his hardware as a middle ground so your memories would not get mixed up." Doctor Amari said brusquely. Delilah glanced at where Kellogg was slowly sitting up.

"Which means I saw most of it. About as soon as you started lights began flashing and we had to come up with a solution. Using part of my brain to run the program meant you two wouldn't end up losing memories to each other." Nick told them as the wires were disconnected.

"So you know what comes next." Delilah told him.

"Yeah. So, Kellogg. What do you say to infiltrating the Institute?" Nick asked. The mercenary looked confused.

"Why the hell would you want my input?" He asked.

"Let's head back to Sanctuary. Place needs fixing up anyway." Delilah said quietly. "Thank you, Doctor Amari. You've helped us so much."

"That's what they all say. Now leave, I have to clean this up." The doctor told them.

Chapter Text

"You okay?" Delilah asked as they walked north on the road towards Concord.

"Why are you so concerned?" Kellogg replied.

"Because I'm dragging you across the Commonwealth as a prisoner and tramping through your brain." She told him.

"You loved your husband." Kellogg said.

"Yeah."

"You loved your son." He continued.

"What are you getting at?" She asked.

"I killed your husband and stole your son. The worst thing you did in return was break my leg, hit me with a chair and throw a grenade at me."

"Do you want me to hit you with another chair?" Delilah asked.

"No, I'm wondering why the hell you didn't kill me."

"As I wandered around, I would spend my nights imagining what I could do to the man who ripped my family apart to get adequate revenge. Ultimately I'd have needed a way to resurrect you eight times, a minigun, a machete and more chems than I've ever seen." Delilah said casually. Kellogg looked almost horrified.

"I heard everything." Nick said quietly. They were heading along the river north, eyes out for everything that would want to kill them. He knows.

"Yeah, which means we don't need to fill you in--"

"I heard everything, Del. Including that whole song and dance your head does whenever there's a quiet moment." He knows he knows he knows--

"Wonderful. It's louder in there than normal, don't worry."

"Volume ain't my concern, what it's saying is." Nick told her. Why shout when you can speak, no need to scream, the words carry their intentions better when the speaker is calm, describing the ways you're about to lose fingers becomes much more horrifying faced with that type of person--

"There's nothing I can do about it Nick." Delilah said, frustrated. She climbed over a wrecked car, heading onto the bridge. Nothing you can do, you're stuck with it forever-- no way to erase what you've done, no way to hide or run or bury your sins, let them rot in the sun--

"Sorry, it ain't my intention to piss you off." Nick said. "I'm just worried--" Why is he worried what does he want what does he want from you what does he hope to gain--

"Nick I'm a mess I think that's been pretty well established." Delilah cut him off. "Okay? I hallucinate, I've got some shit-wipe in my head telling me I suck, I'm dealing with a dead husband and a stolen kid. There's nothing I can do to get rid of any of that except for putting a bullet in my head or taking some fucking chem cocktail. It's what I live with." Nick looked down as they avoided the holes in the bridge. "How deep is that?"

"Ten feet, maybe twenty?" Nick suggested.

"Cool." The three continued in silence on the road, Dogmeat bounding ahead and bringing back random bits of trash for Delilah, who pocketed each piece of tape and plastic toy. She stopped when they passed a small set of stores, climbing in through the broken window frame and digging around in the boxes.

"What the fuck are you doing." Kellogg said.

"Carry this." Delilah responded, throwing a pack of duct tape at his head. He caught it and stuffed it in his pocket, still staring at her. Nick kept glancing around, expecting something to jump out at them.

"Holy fuck this is warm." Delilah said, and climbed back out wearing a thick winter jacket.

"It's summer." Kellogg told her.

"It's ass-cold fuck off." She replied. "You're not the one who was in a cryo pod for however long." She pulled the hood up, staring at the two.

"Its more like late fall." Nick told the mercenary.

"Don't be a smart-ass." Kellogg replied. Delilah grinned from under the hood and headed up the road, loading her pistol.

"How's your leg?" Delilah asked. Kellogg didn't respond. "Want another stimpak?" she pressed. She opened her mouth to say something else when Nick shouted a warning, gun up. She turned as a giant scorpion jumped from the ground behind them. "What the fuck, Nick? What is that?"

"Radscorpion-- whatever you do, don't let it grab you." Nick told her. She took aim for its stinger, biting her lip as she shot four times. Each shot hit, and it dove under the ground, vanishing. "Don't get complacent, it's coming back up." It knows where you are-- it knows where you'll be-- you can't escape you can't run you can't flee--

"Probably underneath us." Kellogg muttered. Delilah took off for a broken truck, climbing on top of it and readying her rifle. Dogmeat ran along the ground, ready for it to reappear.

"If it's coming through the ground then let's not be on the ground." Delilah said. Nick nodded and moved towards a collapsed building, standing on part of the wall. Kellogg ran for another wrecked car, the scorpion lunging from the ground behind him. Del took aim and fired at its left claw, hitting it in the joint. The thing shrieked and grabbed at Kellogg. The mercenary jumped on top of the rusted-out car, avoiding the thing's stinger. Dogmeat lunged forward, biting into the thing's leg and pulling.

"Hey catch!" Delilah shouted. He turned as she held his pistol up in the air. She threw it, missing him completely and sliding across the ground under a bench.

"For fuck's sake." Kellogg said loudly and dove for it, dodging the scorpion as it tried to dive and reemerge underneath him. Dogmeat slammed into the scorpion, snapping at it and giving him time to grab the pistol. He straightened up as his hand closed around the grip, turning and firing at the thing as Delilah charged it, screaming. Kellogg glanced up as the woman jumped off a truck, intending to land on the giant bug and he jumped backwards as it grabbed at him with its claws again. Delilah landed, driving the thing into the ground and breaking its tail in the process. She jumped off of it and ran five feet, turning as Nick put more bullets into its back. With a loud screech it collapsed fully to the ground, oozing slightly.

"Well fuck." Delilah said, not holstering her pistol.

"There'll be more like that thing, don't worry." Nick told her. "You really want to leave the guy's gun with him?"

"If I wanted you two dead I'd have shot you already." Kellogg told them. Dogmeat stepped between the mercenary and the other two, growling.

"I've made that argument a couple times." Delilah muttered. Gun to the head, surrounded by men who want you dead--

"That ain't comforting, Kellogg. You're a mass murderer who's tagging along just to see what happens. I'm not too trusting of that sort of folk. You want to prove your loyalty then do it." Nick held out a hand for the gun, "But until then you get the gun in firefights and nowhere else." Kellogg glared at the synth as he handed the pistol back. "Come on you two, Sanctuary's not far off and neither is nightfall."

Chapter Text

"Preston!" Delilah shouted as they crossed the bridge. Dogmeat bounded off, tail wagging as Preston appeared, running towards them.

"You're back, I--" He stopped, staring at Kellogg, who glared at him. "Who is that."

"Conrad Kellogg, the single most dangerous mercenary in the whole damn Commonwealth." Nick said, eyeing the mercenary. "Don't ask me why he's around because I couldn't tell ya."

"General why is he here?"

"It's easier than sending him to another settlement."

"No, why is he alive? He stole your kid, right?"

"Yup." Delilah said. Murderer, kidnapper, should have slit his throat, slit his stomach, gutted him, ripped out his brains--

"You know what, settle back in here, I'll come around later to talk." Preston said, giving Kellogg a long last look before heading back up the road.

"I can and will shoot you in the face if you do anything to hurt the people here." Delilah said to Kellogg, still watching Preston leave. "It'll hurt more than the last time."

"You've convinced me." Kellogg said sardonically. "So what now? Got a cage or a doghouse to shove me into?"

"If you're into that sure." Delilah said and then backtracked, "Wait." She glanced at him, trying to read his expression. He looked annoyed. "Okay sure fine. We've probably got a spare bed somewhere let's go." She walked up the street towards one of the empty houses and pointed at the door. "Here. There's a bed, feel free to do whatever with the place but if more people show up to live here you'll probably have to share." Kellogg snorted and went into the building, closing the door behind him.

"He's going to either run off or murder you." Nick told her.

"If he wants to kill me he already knows I don't go down easily." Delilah told him, continuing up the road. "You never really got to see the entire place, did you? It's just a couple houses we've cleared out and repaired right now, but hopefully we'll start wiring things up and get some power going." Delilah said, heading into her house. "This is mine, it's a mess but I haven't really been around to clean up-- there are leaves in here again shit--" She kicked some debris out of the way as she headed through. Filth piling up in the ruins of your life--

"You planning on doing anything in particular with the place?" Nick asked.

"Make it a home for more than just me, mainly. Get more turrets up, get a steady supply of power and water, and anyone that needs a home can stay here." Pretend to have a family again-- She sat on the old couch, motioning for Nick to take the armchair as she waited for Preston. She emptied her pockets, dropping the junk she'd picked up along the way on the ground.

"How do you carry that much?" Nick asked.

"I've got big pockets." She replied. The door opened and Preston walked in, setting his laser musket against the wall and sitting next to her on the couch.

"So you really let the guy live?" Preston asked.

"Which is worse-- dying reasonably quickly or living with what you've done for your entire life?" Delilah asked. "Killing someone can be messy and painful but then it's over. You let a guy live and they're going to remember everything they've done."

"I take it you've done this before." Preston said.

"A few times, yeah."

"So what do we do with him?"

"Keep an eye on him. Same thing as the raider kid. He's on probation, except if Kellogg slips up he doesn't get kicked out he gets put in a cage or shot, depending on who's around." Delilah told him.

"Thought you let the guy live for a reason." Nick said.

"I did. I gave him options, now its up to him to use those options."

Chapter Text

"You'll need to get into the Glowing Sea. The Institute uses teleportation to get in and out, but the codes I have get switched pretty often. Right now they aren't gonna work, seeing as the team I brought into Fort Hagen were destroyed and I'm dead." Kellogg said. Delilah nodded, more focused on her box of cereal than him.

"So I need to talk with the Virgil guy."

"Yeah. I can give you detailed maps of the Institute itself, where it is approximately in the Commonwealth, but you're gonna need a teleportation device. And you'll need Virgil to help you with that."

"So what's the next part of finding your kid?" Cait asked, drinking one of the few beers they'd found while Delilah took part of a circuit board apart.

"There's a guy in a 'Glowing Sea' we need to find." Cait snorted. "What?"

"Good luck goin' in there." Cait told her.

"Why?"

"It's the Glowing Sea. It's a fucking wasteland loaded with radiation. You're more likely to wind up dead in there than findin' anything." Cait leaned back, downing the entire bottle. A place to end it.

"I'll need a hazmat suit. Shit." Delilah muttered. "Or enough radaway to kill a horse."

"What's a horse?" Cait asked.

"Pre-War animal, people'd use them for farm-work, rode them in races and kept them on farms." Delilah explained. "I think they got up to two tons sometimes but I could be wrong."

"So what do ya plan on doing?" Cait looked down at her.

"Supply run. Get enough shit to keep this place working, maybe set up some supply routes to the other settlements. After that, find a hazmat suit and stock up on drugs. If everything works out I'll go into the Glowing Sea and find the guy I need."

Cait and Delilah took Dogmeat and headed towards Lexington. They didn't talk, but the silence felt more amiable than when they'd first met. Delilah spared glances at the cage fighter from time to time, but focused mainly on the road.

When they hit the town Delilah climbed on top of a Red Rocket building and took out her rifle, looking for the ghouls that Preston had mentioned. She stared down the scope, carefully using five bullets on five ghouls before glancing around for anyone else.

"Raiders down the road." Cait says, readying her shotgun. "I'll draw 'em out, you gun 'em down."

"Are you sure--" Delilah began, but Cait ran the road, yelling before she finished the sentence. Bullets in the head and chest, bleeding out on the ground, eyes turned skyward-- Cait ran towards Delilah's perch, followed by three raiders and a dog. They didn't see Delilah, but they did see their fellows hit the ground with a bullet in their brains.

"Someone get the sniper!" The cry went up and Cait ducked into the garage of the Red Rocket, shooting outward towards a man in metal armour as he approached with a bat. Cait laughed when he hit the ground and picked up the bat, swinging it at a woman in combat armour. 

Delilah checked the windows overlooking their position, staring down the scope through two windows at someone in power armour on a ledge with a Fat Man. Delilah grimaced and fired, the bullet lodging in between the shoulder and helmet. The raider staggered before charging through the building towards where the shot had come from, bringing up the nuke launcher

"Cait, mini nuke!" Delilah shouted, aiming at the shoulder joint and firing. Cait ran the other direction, leading raiders away and Dogmeat tackled another man, slamming him into the ground underneath Delilah. The woman stared down her scope once more as the nuke-wielder raised their arm once more, spotting Delilah. Heat, fire, burning burning burning-- hit by a missile, hit by a nuke, there won't be anything left of you, won't be enough to bury-- She didn't move, lining up one more shot between the chest and neck. She fired, hitting her target, and the figure fired the fat man. 

Delilah turned and ran, jumping off the roof and rolling as she hit the ground, not stopping as the mini nuke exploded behind her, throwing her forward several more feet. She staggered to a stop, turning and raising her rifle once more as the figure reloaded, and she grimaced. 

Power armour-- too strong to pierce with a rifle, joints well-maintained--fusion core! Hit the fusion core! Fusion core fusion core fusion core-- The mantra repeated as Delilah ran towards the building, ducking through the doorway and charging up the stairs. Dogmeat was right behind her, Cait still beating raiders to death. The dog launched himself at the raider, latching onto its arm and pulling as Delilah aimed for the core with her pistol. It beeped and fell out, beginning to glow.

"Dogmeat, back! Come here!" She ordered, running down the steps, and Dogmeat obeyed, tail wagging as he followed, running past her towards Cait. The floor above them exploded, old wood disintegrating as pieces of metal and person flew out into the street. Burned, blown up, did they have a family? You condemned it to the worst death, picking pieces out of their armour for months after-- she took aim once more with her pistol, shooting out a man's legs and Cait brought her bat down on his head. She turned, panting as Delilah approached, eyes wide and pupils dilated.

"Hi." She said. Cait laughed, sitting on her hip and staring.

"Hi yourself. You do this often?" Cait asked.

"Only when I'm with you." Delilah replied, breathing hard and grinning.

"Well one thing's for sure, you know how to give a gal a good time."

"It's one of my many talents." Delilah said. Is she flirting with you? Why would she flirt with you?

"Oh? You often show gals good times?"

"Absolutely." Delilah laughed as she began picking through the bodies. "See, normally I'd take you out to dinner, but there aren't any nice places around, so I picked the second-best thing." Cait began cackling as she pocketed the chems one of the men were carrying.

"I'd take this over dinner any day." Cait told her, tossing a magazine of 10 MM rounds at Delilah. "Easier to gauge a person."

"On what, how well they don't die?"

"On how trustworthy they are." Cait told her. Delilah stopped smiling, looking up at her with solemn curiosity. "See, I've been thinking. And I'd really like to talk to you." Cait said.

"Of course. Anything you need." Delilah replied, standing up.

"Anything I need, huh? I might take you up on that one day. After Tommy stuck me with you, I was expecting' to hate your guts. Not only because you agreed to pick up me contract, but because I was waiting for you to order me around like hired help. Now so far, you've been treatin' me like a friend. Hell, you've been damn near nice to me. Now I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but your kindness is starting to make me wonder. If there's anything I learned at the Combat Zone, it was that nobody does things for other people without expecting' something in return." Cait told her as she pocketed several caps and two stimpaks.

"Surviving that must have been rough." Delilah said, pulling the intact combat armour from a woman. They walked across the open area towards the buildings full of ghoul corpses.

"That's putting it nicely. I spent three years living at the Combat Zone. Smelled like puke and piss but I called it home. I was making a few caps, had me own bed to sleep in and three hot meals a day. Then the Raiders took over the place. You know that lot… they aren't exactly what you'd call 'the gentle type'. After they moved in, if you didn't keep looking over your shoulder, you were liable to get sucker punched and robbed. Or worse. Didn't take me long to learn that I had to put my hard-earned caps to good use. Buyin' friends was essential to making life easier. So I guess I'm waiting for you to hand me a bill, you know what I mean?" Cait eyed her expectantly. She believes she's a slave to you, held by an unknown debt-- what happens when you decide to collect?

"You don't owe me anything." Delilah told her firmly, stopping her search through a trash can to look at the cage fighter. You know exactly what she believes. You had to unlearn it too.

"That's a bit hard to believe. I'll tell you what. Give me some time and I'll think of something I can do to repay you. I'm not a rich girl but I'm sure we can agree on something. After all, what are friends for?" Cait said, breaking the mood with a sarcastic smile. Delilah returned it with a genuine one and tossed her a roll of duct tape. Cait snorted and pocketed it.

Chapter Text

"Lexington's kind of nice. After you look past the corpses. And the trash. And the highway. And the holes in the buildings." Delilah said, lighting a fire as Cait leaned against a brick wall.

"Oh sure, looking past all of the things Lexington is, it's pretty nice." Cait replied. Delilah snorted. "So what's for dinner?"

"Potato crisps, radroach meat and sugar bombs." Delilah said after digging through her bag.

"My favourite." Cait said, sitting across from her.

"I'm glad." Delilah replied, handing her a box of cereal and dropping meat onto the fire.

"So now that I've told you some of my story, you gonna tell me any of yours?" Cait asked. Delilah put ten chips in her mouth as she looked up at the cage fighter. Delilah slowly worked through them, frowning.

"Anything in particular?"

"Yeah, why're you so nice?" Cait leaned back on one hand, dropping cereal in her mouth with the other. Delilah laughed. You're not. You're just better at washing the blood from your shining veneer than most.

"That's fair. So I'm Pre-War, right? Not wasteland at all. I guess I'm just some Pre-War goodness coming in to save the wasteland from itself." Delilah said, pushing an entire steak in her mouth. Cait chuckled. "In all seriousness," Delilah began with her mouth full, "Which is lessened by me eating right now, I get that. I'm not nice. I'm shit. I try to do good things, but I'm not 'nice'." Delilah explained. "My husband was nice. The definition of nice. He was more than nice, he was good. Helped a lot of people. And I don't know if I'm trying to honour his memory or take what he taught me to heart, but I'm still trying to do right by him." She looked down at her hands, mottled with scars and visible veins.

"Wow. That wasn't what I was expecting." Cait said. "So what's this husband of yours?"

"The guy Kellogg shot in the Vault." Delilah said and then grimaced at her description. "Short and pudgy, always smiling. Was a lawyer. Before you ask about the Kellogg situation, I'm aware of how bad a decision it looks. I'm well aware I let the murderer of my husband and the kidnapper of my child live." She said firmly. Cait nodded to herself.

"Fair enough. So what're your plans now? After you find your kid?" Delilah didn't answer, looking floored. She thought for a few minutes before looking back up at Cait.

"There's no way out but forward, I guess. No way back. So I'll build up the settlements we have. Protect the people of the Commonwealth. Protect my own." She feels that same sense of hope she felt in the fort, as she finally put together her plan of action.

They returned to Sanctuary with more cloth and glue than was strictly necessary, but the amount of trash Delilah had picked up made Sturges light up, taking the mechanical components and heading for the turrets, whistling. 

Delilah dropped the pipe rifles she'd taken from the Raiders' corpses and began carefully unloading and dismantling them. She put the magazines in one pile, mods in another, and the individual pieces into a third pile. Taking things apart has always been what you're best at, hasn't it? Nothing like removing the layers of armour around a man as you remove his limbs-- The coffee tin she grabbed for screws was slowly filling up, and she moved to sit against the wall as she worked. You're really trying to do good, aren't you? It will come back to bite you. The murderers and mercenaries you save will come back to kill you. She ignored the light footsteps approaching her, only looking up when a pair of steel-toed boots entered her vision. Kellogg stared down at her, expression unreadable. She stared back.

"Hi." She said.

"How are you getting into the Glowing Sea?" He asked. Is he worried? No-- he's curious. Or questioning. Suspicious? Curious.

"You really don't do smalltalk do you?" Delilah replied. He glared at her. "Sit down and make yourself useful, jackass." She pointed to the spot next to her and he sighed, complying. She handed him a screwdriver and a pistol. "Shoot me and I'll gouge out your eyes with my screwdriver." She threatened.

"How are you getting into--" Kellogg began to repeat himself.

"Rad-Away and a hazmat suit." Delilah interrupted him, focusing on her work. 

"Where are you getting those things?" Trash lost to the rubble of a ruined world--

"No fucking clue." Delilah told him. "You know where, don't you?"

"No." Kellogg snapped.

"Someone's hostile. Who shit in your cereal?"

"No one shit-- why is that a saying?"

"Because Pre-War people were weird." Delilah told him, setting the pieces of a rifle into the pile and picking up an alarm clock.

"Fine."

"So why are you so grumpy?"

"Do you need a list?"

"Most of the time, yeah." Kellogg groaned.

"I'm being held indefinitely by some woman who insists on treating me as an ally."

"Are you unable to say 'friend'?"

"We're not--" Kellogg began, exasperated.

"Thought so." Delilah cut him off before handing him a toaster. "Nice to know you're just a cranky dad."

"I am not--"

"You had a kid, right? You're a dad. And you're always in a bad mood, so--" Widower, father to a dead child, two graves-- unless there weren't bodies left to bury--

"I will pay you to shut up." Kellogg told her. She snorted. Sensitive spot in the armour.

"I'm more expensive than you can afford." Delilah told him. He glared at the toaster, violently dismantling it.

Chapter Text

"Hey, General, so we found a good spot for a new settlement. Feel like going and taking a look?" Preston asked.

"Sure, where is it?"

"Outpost Zimonja. Up north a ways, right at the edge of the Commonwealth." Delilah nodded.

"I can do that, don't worry." She grinned at him, and he patted her shoulder before resuming his patrol.

Kellogg was lying on the floor, staring at the ceiling as Delilah came stomping into the building. He didn't look at her.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Delilah asked.

"Avoiding you."

"Sounds fun. So I need backup on a thing, we're heading north into places I've never been."

"Do I have a choice?"

"Yeah, you can say no and I'll find someone else." Delilah told him. He groaned and rolled over, standing up slowly.

"Fine. When do we leave?" He asked.

"As soon as I convince Nick to go on an adventure with two losers." Delilah said, grinning.

The three walked along the two-lane wreck of a road north, past Concord.

"We really need to call the road service about these potholes." Delilah muttered as she stepped in one, water going up to her knee.

"Absolutely. Almost lost my car in one last week." Nick replied and Delilah laughed.

"What the fuck are you two saying." Kellogg asked.

"Potholes. Holes in the road, asphalt isn't that great for holding together after water gets in the cracks and then freezes and melts a few times." Delilah explained.

"What's a road service?"

"People that take care of the roads. So you don't break your car on them." Delilah said, watching Kellogg become even more confused.

"You paid people to…"

"See the cars?" She pointed at several wrecks. "They need smooth roads to drive on. You pay people to smooth the roads, and boom, a working economy." Kellogg seemed completely lost. Nick laughed at him.

"Okay fine, whatever. Never mind."

"It's okay to not know things." Delilah said.

"Apparently not for him." Nick muttered.

"Fuck off." Kellogg snapped. Delilah snorted, climbing the low ridge towards Outpost Zimonja. Delilah dropped to her knees in leaf matter and rich dirt, pulling out her rifle and staring down the scope.

"I've got a guy in power armour, three turrets, six in combat armour and a brahmin." Delilah said after a moment. Fusion core! Fusion core! Fusion core--

"So what's the play?" Nick asked.

"I've got the rifle. If I can get a shot at the guy's fusion core, that'll be a blast big enough to kill a lot of them. Turrets are another issue."

"I'll get rid of the turrets." Nick volunteered.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, nothing like a little machine-to-machine bonding time." He laughed.

"Okay. Kellogg, I need anyone still standing after that blast on the ground. Preferably with bullets in them." Delilah ordered.

"After that?" Nick asked.

"We get a radio beacon set up and clean the place up." Delilah said, and the raider in power armour turned around, giving her a clear shot at the fusion core.

The core didn't fall out, instead exploding immediately, ripping the armour wide open, the frame splintering into high-speed projectiles. Delilah was momentarily stunned, but immediately looked through her scope again. Three raiders still stood, and there were explosions to her right, which heralded Nick's success. Kellogg was behind the remaining raiders as they ran through their camp, searching for the shooter. Kellogg fired three bullets, each hitting its target in the throat. He turned back to where Delilah was crouched and gave an 'all clear' sign.

The wreckage was easy to clean up. Delilah pulled the pieces of raider from the power armour frame, tossing them into the pile of bodies they had created under the nearby highway. Kellogg dropped the turret remains by the workbench while Nick pulled anything they could scrap out of the buildings.

The radio beacon was relatively simple to set up, one of the telephone poles serving as a base. Delilah was the one to actually climb the pole, attaching a dish to the top with only her legs holding her in place. Nick stood underneath, looking anxious as Kellogg sorted through the raiders' belongings. Delilah dropped a wire down for Nick to attach to the control box. You could let go. Unhook your ankles, unhook your knees, and fall. Maybe you'd angle it so you landed on your neck. You're heavy enough to make it quick. She ignored the voice and slid down, hitting the ground hard which did no favours for her ankles. She staggered for a moment, but stood up straight, checking the wiring before flicking the beacon on. She looked at it with pride as the radio signal was caught on her pip-boy.

"So that's one job done." Nick said to no one in particular.

"And it's not a half-assed one. Good job us." Delilah replied. Nick smiled.

"So who wants to go catch the resident murderer?" Nick asked.

"It's your turn. I got him here." Delilah told him, laughing as he rolled his eyes and walked towards where Kellogg had piles of leather and cloth.

The return trip was quiet, Delilah more focused on the clear sky than on her companions. Kellogg was looking around constantly, ready to attack anything that moved, and Nick was content with watching the road ahead. What a strange bunch you are. How old is that detective? How old is that mercenary? How old are you? Two murderers and a man who would have worked to bring you both down. Has worked to bring you both down. You remember Nick Valentine. That detective from before the bombs. He was so close to getting your information. And now? This Nick doesn't know you. Doesn't remember you. And all he knows about you is what you mentioned in the pods. This will be fun, once he finds the terminals.

"You mind if I stick around for a bit?" Nick asked, breaking the silence. Delilah stopped her star watching to look at him. "Just until you get out of the Glowing Sea. I'll be honest, I'm technically still on the case for your kid. Ain't gonna end until you find him, so there's no real reason for me to high-tail it to Diamond City."

"There is a reason. It's called 'you're a moron with a job'." Kellogg said from behind them.

"Don't recall asking your opinion, Kellogg." Nick replied lightly.

"If you want to, sure. I need all the help I can get." Delilah told him. She ignored Kellogg's mumbled remarks.

Chapter Text

Delilah ran through the lists she'd compiled for Sanctuary and the Glowing Sea. She paced around her house, mentally checking things off.

"Rad-away, Rad-x, hazmat suit, .308 rounds, 10mm rounds, spare knife, purified water." Delilah muttered, running through their inventory. She was pretty sure that she had enough anti-radiation drugs, but it would be dangerously sparse usage. The hazmat suit was an issue that she wasn't sure how to solve, so she set that option aside. Go into the ocean. Drown. Let everything overtake you. Let it end let it end just go in and never come back--

"Any luck?" Preston asked, appearing beside her, indicating the lists.

"Which one?" She glanced at him.

"Glowing Sea." He clarified. Delilah blew a raspberry. "That bad?"

"If I went in, I technically have enough supplies. It's about eight miles to the centre, right? Which means I'd need to walk a ten minute mile in order to…" She began doing the math, stopping as Preston took her shoulder.

"We can get the rad-x you'll need. We'll make sure you have enough." He told her earnestly. She smiled, not breaking the eye contact.

"I appreciate it."

"Hey, it's not like you saved our lives or anything. Consider it repayment." Preston said. Delilah snorted, turning back to her lists. "I'm almost afraid to ask what's on the other clipboard."

"Then don't ask, I'll just tell you." Delilah told him. "Shit for Sanctuary. Currently we've got five turrets, all of which are kind of constantly falling apart. Water's okay, Sturges has the parts for the purifier I found, and we've got enough food. What I'm worried about is beds."

"What about them?"

"They're shitty." Delilah said frankly, ignoring Preston's snort. "The mattresses are scavenged, the bed frames are rusted, and we're going to need newer, better ones soon."

"Out of every problem you could have found you picked the pre-war beds. Instead of the walls or the roofs?"

"That's on the list, right under 'I keep finding empty bottles everywhere'." Delilah replied. Preston laughed. "So, I've got this sneaking suspicion that you have something you want to talk about." He nodded.

"It's… well it's sort of personal." Preston told her. He's angry with you he's furious you fucked up you fucked up--

"Want to sit down?" Delilah asked.

"That'd be great." She pointed to one of the salvaged chairs, and Preston sat down heavily, watching as Delilah just dropped onto the couch.

"When we first met, I admit, I had my doubts about you. But you've done nothing but impress me. You're just who the Minutemen needed to bring us back from the brink." Preston explained hesitantly, picking up momentum as he continued speaking.

"Thanks. That means a lot coming from you." She replied. Why does he trust you what have you done for him you've done nothing you are nothing--

"You've probably realised by now how important the Minutemen are to me. When I was a kid, they were my heroes. They were the only good guys around, really. When I turned seventeen, I joined up with Ezra Hollis' company. He was one of the good ones. Really believed in the old-time Minuteman way. We had a few good years there. I felt like I was part of something bigger than me. Like I was really helping make the Commonwealth a better place." Preston said. Delilah nodded.

"It sounds like you were really making a difference."

"I think we were. I know we were. But, obviously… it didn't last. I'm sure there was a lot I didn't see, or know enough to pay attention to. You know, the politics and rivalries, and bad blood between the different groups. I guess General Becker was able to keep a lid on it. Keep everyone more or less on the same team. But after he was killed, it all came out in the open." Preston shook his head. "I couldn't believe it at first. These guys were supposed to be Minutemen. They were supposed to put their duty to the people ahead of everything else. You probably think I was pretty naive, huh? I guess I was. Still am, too, even after everything. I still believe that the Minutemen can be what I always thought they were. The good guys."

"I agree with you about the good we can do, but why are you telling me all of this?" Delilah asked.

"I guess I'm just trying to say thank you. If that makes any sense. Thank you for being different than most everyone else I've run across. Anyway, I appreciate you taking the time to listen." Preston said.

"Any time, Preston." Delilah grinned at him.

"Thanks, man. We'd probably better get back to it." Preston said, shrugging.

Delilah played with the dials on the pip-boy as she sat on the shitty mattress. The radio signal from Cambridge could just be picked up, now a repeat of Paladin Danse signalling the Brotherhood of Steel. Delilah turned and looked out the open wall to the south. She sighed and dropped backwards, staring at the ceiling. It's empty. Your house is empty. Was it ever a home? No. You never had a home.

If she set out in the morning to see if the team in the police station was still alive, she could potentially gain access to the big blimp that had come through, but she wasn't too keen on just taking Dogmeat. Kellogg was completely out of the question, Nick probably wouldn't appreciate being dragged into that mess, and while she could feasibly bring Cait, she knew she'd been asking a lot of her lately.

"Fuck." She got out of bed, climbing through the open wall instead of using the door and headed for the empty houses at the end of the road. Inside she began righting furniture and tossing anything they hadn't found into the street. Remove your past. Remove your present. Remove your future. Remove everything that used to be home, turn your world back to dirt and trash it's where you'll always be-- She glanced outside, eyeing the dead trees around Sanctuary.

"Mum, what are you doing up?" She jumped, turning and falling half into a defensive stance before recognising Codsworth.

"It's pretty hard to sleep." She said, shrugging.

"Ah. Forgive me, mum, I'll continue my patrol."

"No, it's. It's fine. I wanted to ask you. What do you think of me? Honestly. What do you honestly think of me?" Delilah asked quickly.

"I realize the past 200 years were just moments for you, mum, but I'd like to think we've maintained quite the rapport despite everything." Codsworth told her. Her eyes widened as shock registered on her face. "If anyone is to change the Commonwealth for the better, it's you."

"That's… that's a real vote of confidence. You sure you want to throw in behind me?" She asked, frowning. He has nowhere else to go. There's nothing else for him.

"Certainly, mum! I see no reason to distrust your motives at this point. Oh, by the by, I had intended to give you this holotape when you first returned. But then… everything happened, and you've been out and about for so long." Codsworth handed her a holotape. She stared at it for a moment, and put it into the pip-boy. 

There was loud feedback for a moment as the tape started.

"Oopsie. No, no, no. Little fingers away. There we go. Just say it. Right there. Right there. Go ahead." Shaun giggled, and Nate made a noise of pride. "Yay! Hi honey! Listen... I don't think Shaun and I need to tell you how great of a mother you are... but we're going to anyway. You are kind, and loving--" Shaun giggled "--and funny!" Nate laughed as Shaun cooed. "That's right. And patient. So patient. Patience of a saint, my mom used to say." Shaun blew a raspberry. 

"Look, with Shaun, and us all being at home together... It's been an amazing year." Nate continued. "But even so, I know our best days are yet to come. There will be changes, sure. Things we'll need to adjust to. You'll rejoin the civilian workforce, I'll shake the dust off my law degree. But everything we do, no matter how hard... we do it for our family. Now say goodbye, Shaun... Bye bye? Say bye bye? Bye honey! We love you!" The holotape shut off and Delilah stared forward. 

Your best days are behind you. They're long gone. Your family is long gone. There's nothing left. There's nothing forward. You're alone. You're alone in this hellhole and nothing you do will bring back your husband the best you can do is take your pistol and--

"I love you too, Nate." She said softly. He'll never hear that. He's gone. He's long gone and you'll never reach him, that message will never reach him if you had been the one to hold Shaun he'd be alive he would still be alive you killed him his death is on you--

"Oh dear. Should I have kept it to myself, mum? I never want to cause you unnecessary upset." Codsworth said. She smiled wanly, patting his dome.

"No, you… it's good. I'm glad you did. Give me the tape, I mean. Thank you." She told him.

"I… I miss them too, mum."

"I know. And I'm going to find Shaun. I'm going to bring him home." Delilah told him.

Chapter Text

The vertibird on the roof was smaller than Delilah was expecting. She'd never used one, and had never gotten too close to the landing pads, as her role had been to climb anything she could and shoot people before they saw her squad. She gingerly climbed onto it, waving Codsworth and Dogmeat off.

"Head back to Sanctuary, let Preston know what's happening." She said.

"As you wish mum. And might I just say, good luck." Codsworth told her, heading back into the police station. Danse motioned for her to take the minigun seat.

"That minigun in front of you is loaded and ready to fire." He said, and she shifted around, not liking how she had to dangle her feet off the side. Slide to the left, lean over, just let yourself fall out.

"It takes some getting used to, but you won't fall out." Danse said, apparently recognising her feelings as he took a position against the back wall. The vertibird lifted off, heading quickly over the Commonwealth. Delilah felt a swooping sensation in her gut as the ground left her, and she felt dizzy for a moment before shaking it off and gripping the minigun handles.

"Make sure you properly identify your targets before you start shooting. We don't want to have any mishaps with the locals." Lean over, wouldn't need to unhook your legs or anything, just fall. Fall to the ground, it'd be quick-- Delilah grit her teeth against the voice. It was almost pretty, and Delilah recognised a lot of the buildings as they flew over Boston.

"The Commonwealth looks different from up here, doesn't it?" Danse said.

"Nothing like altitude to change perspective." Delilah responded, shouting over the wind. She swore she could hear Danse laugh. 

"True. It never ceases to amaze me how drastically your perception of the battlefield chances from the air. We're going to need that edge when we take on the Institute. They've already proven that they're technologically superior, which means there's no telling what types of weapons they have in their arsenal. Hopefully, our air superiority and tactical know-how will make the difference. Now all we have to do is find them… and I'm betting that Elder Maxson will have a plan already in place by the time we arrive." They flew over a trio of ruined buildings with fires burning in the exposed rooms, and someone fired a missile at the vertibird. It missed wildly and Delilah opened fire, just making out someone on the roof at the edge of the light. Something exploded and several lights went out. They kept going, passing a ruined highway and what looked like a colonial-era sailing ship lodged in the roof of a bank. There's nothing here. It's empty. It's empty and barren. The only things left are the beasts and the people who act like beasts tearing open what's left of the world to get their own.

"We're on the final approach to the airport… the Prydwen should be coming into view just ahead. We'll be meeting Lancer-Captain Kells on the Flight Deck. Just stick close to me and answer all of his questions." Danse said, and Delilah watched as the massive blimp grew larger against the sky. "There she is. It's been far too long since I've been aboard." As they approached the Prydwen she watched nervously as the landing gear was deployed and they raised up to one of the catwalks. Delilah pulled her legs away from the edge as they did so. Danse took the lead, stepping off and waiting for her to follow.

"All right, soldier… this is the moment when everything changes. I hope you're ready." You never are. He walked towards a man in a flight suit on the main catwalk. "Permission to come aboard, sir?"

"Permission granted," The man saluted, fist pressed over his heart, "and welcome back, Paladin. Allow me to be the first to congratulate you on a successful mission. And is this our new recruit?" he turned to Delilah.

"Yes, sir. I've field promoted her to Initiate, and I'd like to sponsor her entry into our rankings personally." Danse sounded almost proud as he spoke.

"Yes, we read your reports. You'll be pleased to know that Elder Maxson's approved your request, and placed the recruit in your charge."

"Thank you, sir. And my current orders?"

"You are to remain on the Prydwen and await further instructions."

"Very good, sir. Ad victoriam, Captain." Danse said.

"Ad victoriam, Paladin." Kells saluted again and Danse walked up the catwalk and through the thick metal door. Delilah turned to the captain. "So, you're the one Paladin Danse has taken under his wing. You don't look like much of a soldier to me."

"Looks can be deceiving." Delilah replied tersely. Piss off your superiors, that's the best course of action--

"Which is precisely why I personally insist on scrutinising every recruit who boards this vessel. I've read Paladin Danse's reports. He seems to think you'll make a fine addition to the Brotherhood. You might expect an endorsement like that to grant you a great deal of latitude with us, but let me make one thing clear. The Brotherhood of Steel has travelled to the Commonwealth with a specific goal in mind. As the captain of this vessel, I won't allow anyone to jeopardise our mission no matter how valuable they think they are. Understood?"

"Absolutely. Captain."

"Good. Your orders are to proceed to the Command Deck for the address, after which Elder Maxson wishes to have a word with you. You're dismissed."

"Before I go, what can you tell me about Elder Maxson?" Delilah asked.

"He's the supreme leader of the Brotherhood. Without his tenacity and vision, we'd still be a small group of complacent stragglers occupying the Citadel in the Capital Wasteland. In a mere decade he's grown the Brotherhood of Steel into a major military force. He's an inspiration to us all."

"Thanks." Delilah said, and turned away, heading up the metal stairs to the command deck. She slowly walked into the forward chamber, where a man in a modified bomber jacket was speaking.

"Brothers and Sisters, the road behind has been long and fraught with difficulty. Each and every one of you has surpassed my expectations by rapidly facilitating our arrival in the Commonwealth. You have accomplished this amazing feat without a hint of purpose or direction, and most impressively, without question. Now that the ship is in position, it is time to reveal our purpose and our mission. Beneath the Commonwealth, there is a cancer, known as the Institute. A malignant growth that needs to be cut before it infects the surface. They are experimenting with dangerous technologies that could prove to be the world's undoing for the second time in recent history. The Institute scientists have created a weapon that transcends the destructive nature of the atom bomb. They call their creation the 'synth', a robotic abomination of technology that is free-thinking and masquerades as a human being. This notion that a machine could be granted free will is not only offensive, but horribly dangerous. And like the atom, if it isn't harnessed properly, it has the potential of rendering us extinct as a species." He said, gesturing forcefully as he paced. Watch his eyes. They will find your own weaknesses.

"I am not prepared to allow the Institute to continue this line of experimentation. Therefore, the Institute and their 'synths' are considered enemies of the Brotherhood of Steel, and should be dealt with swiftly and mercilessly. This campaign will be costly and many lives will be lost. But in the end, we will be saving humankind from its worst enemy… itself. Ad victoriam!" the room erupted in a response of "ad victoriam"s, and Delilah watched as the man smiled at his soldiers, more sneer than warmth. He doesn't care about anything but his mission. See his stance? Hear his words? He will crush everyone between him and his goals. As the soldiers left the room Delilah was alone with the Elder, who turned to the large glass windows, leaning on the railing and looking out. "I care about them, you know. The people of the Commonwealth." He said, quieter.

"Care about them? I thought you were preparing for war." Delilah asked. He will throw you from the deck should you disobey him--

"The Brotherhood is here to prevent a war by starting one of our own. The difference is, our war won't reduce civilisation to ashes." Maxson said sharply, turning to her. That's how the world ended the last time around-- run from him, run far run fast!

"And what do you want from me?" Delilah was immediately on edge, and she knew he noticed.

"I want you to start taking responsibility for this planet. To start making a difference. And from what I've read in Paladin Danse's reports, you've already begun that journey. Seeing as he's one of my most respected field officers, you couldn't get a better recommendation. Therefore, from this moment forward, I'm granting you the rank of Knight. And, befitting your title, we're granting you a suit of power armour to protect you on the field of battle. Wear it with pride." Metal coffins, lined up in rows, the only reason there's anything left to send home--

"All right."

"In any event, once you're finished becoming familiar with the Prydwen and my staff, report to the Flight Deck for your new orders. Welcome aboard the Prydwen, soldier. Make us proud."

Chapter Text

Delilah gave Maxson a last glance over her shoulder as she left for the ladder leading upward. He's watching you go. Learning your stance, your stride, your weak spots. He knows about your wrenched shoulder already. The upper level was well lit, and Knights in power armour stood guard. She could hear training above her, and people having loud conversations farther down the hall. She followed the voices. Danse was standing in the mess, apparently waiting for her.

"There you are. How did it go with Elder Maxson?" Danse asked. He looked relatively pleased to see her. He wants something.

"He sounds pretty delusional to me. You don't actually buy everything he's saying, do you?" Delilah asked, immediately looking for anger. Good job. Piss him off again. Can't wait to have another quiet conversation about your shitty feelings.

"You shouldn't judge Maxson on his words alone. His actions prove his sincerity. Maxson's a brilliant tactician, a formidable warrior, and possesses an idealistic vision for the future of the Brotherhood. I'd follow him anywhere, without question."

"He's a very… dedicated man. It… sounds like he stands behind everything he's saying." Delilah said slowly, trying to find decent words. Men like that always believe what they say.

"Of course he does. How could he afford not to? I just hope you appreciate how much of a chance I'm taking bringing you into the fold this quickly. Not to put too fine a point on it, but if you screw up… we go down together." Good to know you'll both be going down in flames then.

"So what's all this about you being my sponsor?" She asked.

"Elder Maxson is understandably particular when it comes to new recruits. He believes in order to keep the Brotherhood strong, we have to bond as brothers. As your sponsor, it's my duty to travel with you throughout the Commonwealth to ensure that our ideals are being observed. That's why I'm so concerned about your performance in the field."

"I can handle it, don't worry." Delilah said, annoyed. He forgot ArcJet already? No, he remembers that mission. He's referencing it.

"Good. Now, I know you're eager to hop into a suit of power armour and take the fight to the Institute, but first thing's first-- in order to be an effective part of the team, you need to learn your way around this ship and get to know its crew. Since I've been officially assigned to you as your sponsor, I'd recommend taking me along with you."

"Do you need to come with me now?"

"It might help if I tagged along with you. On the other hand, you might want to make your first impression without a Paladin standing over your shoulder. It's up to you."

"Sounds good. Let's go." Danse said. Delilah nodded.

"Where's the medical wing?" She asked, and Danse gestured down the hall.

It was small, only holding two operating tables and a desk, with boxes and filing cabinets piled in the corners.

"Knight-Captain Cade?" Delilah asked.

"Glad you finally stopped by, soldier. Are you ready for your medical exam?" He asked.

"As long as it doesn't involve petroleum jelly and rubber gloves, I'm ready." Delilah said, grinning.

"No, no... this isn't that sort of examination. I'm going to ask you a series of medical-related questions and I'd like you to answer me to the best of your ability. First Question. As a child, were you ever exposed to radiation for an extended period of time?" He didn't seem annoyed with her joking.

"There wasn't that much radiation around before the bombs fell." Delilah said.

"Before the bombs? What? Let me check my notes. You were a vault-dweller? You're probably healthier than anyone else aboard. Anyway, sorry I missed that in your records... just going down the list of questions... I'm sure you understand. Okay, second question. Have you ever had or come in contact with a person confirmed to be carrying a communicable disease?"

"Honestly, I don't remember." Shivering in an old hotel room, vomiting up blood-- she didn't leave your side, not even when the doctor told her to--

"Well, you don't appear to be suffering from any long-term ill effects, so I'll assume you haven't. Third question... and please answer honestly. Have you ever had sexual relations with any species considered non-human?" He asked, writing something down.

"That happens often enough for you to have a question about it?"

"You'd be surprised how many wastelanders answer "yes" to that question. Fortunately, the Brotherhood finds that type of behaviour absolutely distasteful. Since you haven't spent too much time in the wasteland, I'll assume your answer is "no." Last question. Would you have any problems pulling the trigger on an enemy of the Brotherhood whether they're human, formerly human or machine?"

"That's more of a morals question, isn't it?" Delilah said, eyeing him. She could hear Danse shift in his suit behind them. You always kill your enemies. That's why the road you've left is built from bones. You kill you hurt you maim--

"Oh, absolutely. I feel that the mental state of the crew is just as important as the physical. Anyone that hesitates to fire in combat due to misguided moral standards certainly isn't Brotherhood material. So, what about you? Would you have a problem with it?"

"If my life's in danger, I'll do whatever it takes to defend myself." Running through an old warehouse, hiding in crates, he begged you to spare him, with a gun to his head he begged you to let him go. You pulled the trigger.

"That's an acceptable answer... and the most common. Excellent. I think I've got all the information I need. I see no reason to prevent you from beginning your duties immediately. If you ever need medical assistance... you let me know." Delilah nodded and turned away, glancing at Danse on the way out.

"Proctor Quinlain is right across the hall. I suggest we stop there next." Danse told her. Delilah nodded. A harried looking man was sorting through boxes of documents in the other room, while a sleepy cat looked on.

"Proctor?" Delilah asked.

"Good, you're finally here. Just set the books down anywhere. I'll get to them as soon as I can." He said, not looking at her.

"I think you've got me confused with someone else." Delilah said.

"Hmm. Perhaps I need to rummage through the supply bins for a new pair of glasses. Since it's obvious that you aren't who I was expecting, would you mind telling me why you're here?" Quinlain said.

"I'm asking myself the same thing." She told him frankly. She could feel Danse's eyes on her back. Anger him! Infuriate him! If he gets mad enough he'll throw you from the flight deck!

"I don't recognise you, which leads me to the conclusion that you're a new recruit. Specifically, the one that Paladin Danse described in his report. Under normal circumstances, I'd provide you with a proper orientation of my department. However, I'm woefully behind on setting up research patrols and I am being bombarded with requests for technical documentation. Unfortunately I'm lacking the personnel needed to get the job done."

"Should I come back when you're less busy?" Delilah asked. The one decent offer you've ever made. Truly a shining example of society.

"Our recent arrival in the Commonwealth has left me with an immense amount of data to compile. None of that's your fault, really... you're obviously here for a reason. What was it again?"

"Maxson wanted me to meet the crew. You were next on my list."

"My responsibility aboard the Prydwen is to sort through the books discovered by our recovery teams and extract pertinent information from them. It's tedious work, since most of the volumes are a waste of paper... works of fiction, poetry... you understand."

"No I really fucking don't." Destroy the past, destroy everything you can't use, destroy the culture, the spirit, the life--

"If they don't expand the Brotherhood's technological knowledge, they're useless. Technical volumes, repair manuals, design philosophies, medical research... anything that enhances the Brotherhood's knowledge. Ah, that reminds me. As you patrol the Commonwealth, keep your eyes open for blueprints, memos, manuals, books, charts-- anything containing useful technical data. I'm authorised to pay you for each bundle of documents that you recover. And if you wish to be assigned to a research patrol, I have plenty of them waiting to be filled. In any event, it was a pleasure to meet you, Knight." He saluted, fist over his heart. Delilah returned the gesture, and left quickly, turning to Danse.

"The power armour bay?" She asked. The Paladin led her down the hall into a large open workshop. Racks of power armour lined the edges of the floor, and people buzzed around them, making adjustments and repairs. She walked towards a red-haired woman acting as foreman.

"So, you're the new recruit that I heard about. Hm... not what I was expecting." She said, frowning.

"Sounds like you're disappointed." Delilah told her. She was about as tall as the woman in the power armour frame.

"Not disappointed, just surprised. You don't look like one of the usual wastelanders we pick up. Anyway, since you came down here to meet me, we may as well get it over with. My name's Ingram and this lovely little grease pit is where you'll usually find me. If your Power Armor's too tight in the crotch, the Prydwen's about to crash into the ground, or a robot's gone haywire, you come see me." Ingram said.

"Sounds like you have a pretty full plate."

"Plate? Hell, I have a whole table's worth of duties around here. There isn't a day that goes by on this tub without five or six things breaking down. And since I'm stuck in this rig, I'm not quite as spry as I used to be... the work tends to pile up."

"I understand." She doesn't have any legs.

"Good. Anyway, if you need any work done on your Power Armor, feel free to use the workshops around here." Delilah nodded and Ingram went back to her duties.

"The quartermaster is right over there." Danse said. She nodded, heading through the bay and towards the end of the ship.

"You're Proctor Teagan?" Delilah asked, approaching a chainlink wall around a small storage room.

"Step forward, Knight. Even though they've locked me in this blasted cage, I promise that I won't bite."

"Looks uncomfortable in there." Delilah said flatly.

"It's not that bad. This is the stowage depot, and I, as you probably already guessed, am the ship's quartermaster, Proctor Teagan. The powers that be have me locked in here so I can keep an eye on the Brotherhood's valuables. If you need to stock up on supplies before you head out on a mission, this is the place to buy them."

"Wait... buy them? Since when does the military sell equipment to its own soldiers?" Delilah asked.

"Since someone dropped a whole bunch of bombs and blew up every single factory that manufactured weapons and ammunition. Keeping the Brotherhood supplied takes caps-- and everyone contributes to the cause. I'm mostly interested in weapons, but I'll take anything useful. I won't keep you from meeting the crew, but if you're interested in a little extra work when you're done, this is where I'll be."

Delilah gave a half-assed salute and headed back the way she'd come.

Chapter Text

"Now that that's over, Maxson will be waiting for us on the flight deck. I wouldn't recommend dawdling." Danse said.

"Not like there's anything I can get distracted by, here. Wait, can I pet the cat in Quinlain's room?" Delilah asked.

"No." Danse told her bluntly. She nodded and headed back the way she'd come, towards the ladder.

It was quickly approaching evening as they stepped onto the flight deck, and there were the beginnings of a storm in the distance.

"So what happens if there's lightning? Do vertibirds just not fly?" Delilah asked.

"It depends. If there's a time-sensitive mission, the Lancers will fly in any weather. If not, they'll wait for it to blow over." Danse explained as they walked towards where Maxson was waiting for them. Danse prodded her from behind to stand at attention as soon as they reached Maxson.

"You wanted to-- reporting for duty, Elder." Delilah said, shifting personas.

"Good. Take a look over there." Maxson said. Delilah walked to the railing, staring down at a burning fort. "That's Fort Strong, and it's infested with Super Mutants. Having those aberrations of nature close enough to smell is making me sick to my stomach. To make matters worse, they're sitting on top of a massive stockpile of Fat Man shells we could use in our campaign. I want you to head over there, wipe out everything that moves, and secure that stockpile. Understood?"

"Consider it done." She said.

"Look, I realize you're eager to take the fight to the Institute, but it will have to wait. The Brotherhood cannot allow those abominations to have a nuclear arsenal at their fingertips. If we leave Fort Strong unchecked, we have a potential security threat on our hands. Now... we have a vertibird on standby, fully armed and ready to depart. Use it to carry our message to Fort Strong and wipe those dirty mutants from the face of the earth. Dismissed." Maxson ordered. Delilah walked several paces behind Danse as they approached a vertibird.

"Danse what's a super mutant?" She asked nervously.

"An abomination. Huge, green, and all violent. They tear through entire settlements and anyone they kill they will eat."

"So your advice is 'don't get killed'?" She asked.

"It often is, Knight." She sighed and climbed into the vertibird, sitting behind the minigun again. She held on tightly as the locks disengaged and the vertibird fell from the Prydwen, heading towards the fort. Engine failure, falling to the earth with no way to save yourself-- "Shoot anything you see, Edwards, it'll make our job easier when we land!" Danse ordered, and she stared down the sights at a mass of huge green things. 

She pulled the trigger, and the minigun wound up and began spitting bullets at the mutants. The pilot stayed high, circling the peninsula the fort was on, and Delilah kept gunning down mutants.

"Oh shit-- behemoth! We're not landing until that thing's dead!" The pilot shouted, and Delilah looked up at the hulking shape in the dim light. She felt sick. The thing roared and threw a boulder from what looked like a shopping cart strapped to its back. The boulder missed, barely, and Delilah fired on the behemoth, feeling every dip and shudder of the vertibird as it dodged the rocks. 

One hit the hull next to Delilah's legs and she fought the urge to scream, aiming at the thing's head in response. She watched it swing at the bird as it came in closer, and she aimed for its legs, where the knees looked twisted and broken. It only took a few shots before the bone splintered and broke, and the behemoth fell to the ground. She put more rounds into its skull until it stopped moving.

"We're gonna have to drop you off and hightail it back to the Prydwen for repairs. We'll pick you up when you're done." The pilot said, and they landed at the edge of the fort. Delilah jumped off, drawing the laser rifle Danse had given her, and headed into the mutants' territory.

She froze as a mutant charged her, staring at the mass of twisted green skin and snarling teeth as her fight-or-flight response refused to kick in. This is how you die. This is how you die. Frozen in fear from a monster twice your size-- Danse shot it, and Delilah ducked out of the way, scrambling up a pile of rubble. 

She dropped low as a missile hit behind her, raising her rifle and looking for the source. There was a mutant on top of a collapsed building, and it fell with a bullet to the brain. Delilah got up and kept moving, switching to her pistol and shooting a mutant with a pipe rifle until it fell.

"Exterior is clear, get inside the fort." Danse ordered and Delilah nodded, pushing open the door and heading inside. The entire entry room was covered in blood and bits of meat. Delilah felt sick as the smell hit her and she pushed her way in, trying not to slip.

Clearing the fort was relatively simple, ending up being one long gunfight and a constant stream of you're going to die you're going to die just drop your gun and roll over you're going to die pounding in her head. Delilah followed Danse down into a room filled with ammunition and nuclear explosives, where a heavily-armoured super mutant was waiting with an ugly green hound. 

"Don't leave any of this scum alive." Danse ordered. The hound bayed, sounding more like a broken nuclear siren than a howl and then charged Danse, attaching itself to his arm. Delilah shot it in the head and then focused on the mutant. 

It shouted something and fired on her, and she dove behind a sack of meat, not appreciating how the residual blood got into her clothes and clung to her skin. She turned, firing on the mutant with her rifle as Danse threw the hound off and stomped on it. 

He turned and fired on the mutant as well, and it staggered, roaring and tossing the gun aside to pick up a board with heavy saw blades and spikes attached to it. It charged, and Delilah put a clip into its knee before ducking back behind the meat and reloading. She could hear metal hitting flesh and popped back up, watching the mutant try to rip open Danse's armour. She took aim and put a bullet in its neck, sending it to the ground. She walked over to Danse, watching for any obvious injuries. He didn't seem to be hurt at all.

"Look at this place. You must hate mutants as much as I do."

"Why do you hate super mutants so much?"

"They're responsible for the death of a close friend, a Brotherhood Knight named Cutler." Danse scowled. "So when you ask if I hate them, I say hate's too gentle a word. These monstrosities are just another example of man blindly taking a step forward only to wind up stumbling two steps back. I've been fighting for years trying to put a stop to this madness and just when I thought we were getting the upper hand, along come the synths. I've seen what these super mutants do to people… can you imagine what the synths would do to us if they ever got the advantage? It would be armageddon, repeated. And maybe the end of everything we hold dear." He took a deep breath, face softening. "Look, I don't mean to bore you with my rhetoric. I just want you to understand how important these missions are."

"How exactly could synths bring about our destruction?" Delilah asked, raising an eyebrow.

"If the synths reached the point where they outnumbered mankind… how long would it take for them to decide we were no longer necessary? They certainly possess the capability to make more of their own kind, so we'd become expendable. And with Institute technology on their side… nothing could stop them. Not even the Brotherhood. It's a nightmare scenario almost too terrible to contemplate. Anyway, that's enough of that. What's important here is that you got the job done and secured these warheads. You should head back up to the Prydwen and talk to Maxson. I'm sure he'll want to debrief you as soon as possible. Dismissed." Delilah nodded to him, leaving the fort where a vertibird was landing on the open ground.

Chapter Text

Delilah jumped onto the flight deck, immediately regretting it as the metal swayed underneath her feet. Maxson was on the bridge, inside from the wind that was quickly picking up. Delilah headed inside as the beginnings of a storm echoed over the ocean.

"Outstanding work at Fort Strong, soldier." Maxson said, turning to her from where he'd been leaning on the railing.

"What happens to it now?" She asked.

"Paladin Danse is supervising the transfer of the Fat Man warheads to the Prydwen... they'll provide quite an edge to our arsenal. I've also ordered a detachment to occupy the location and use it as a staging area to protect the eastern side of the airport. All-in-all, you handed us quite a valuable location. Now, I'm sure you're aware that Fort Strong was simply the first step towards the liberation of the Commonwealth. An even greater task lies ahead." Maxson said. 

"By now, I'm sure you've deduced that our arrival in the Commonwealth wasn't coincidental. We're here because of a unique energy reading recorded by Paladin Danse's recon team. According to our scribes, the reading indicated a level of technology that only the Institute could achieve. The moment this information came to light, our mission became clear. The Institute, and everyone responsible for the creation of the synths must be eliminated, at all costs. To accomplish this goal, we need to locate the Institute's headquarters. I've had our scribes meticulously searching the Commonwealth but they've come up empty-handed." He wants them destroyed. You'd destroy an entire group of people on nothing more than a man's word. Is that what you want to return to?

"So where would I start?"

"I want you to get out there and become our eyes and ears on the ground. You seem to have a vested interest in locating the Institute before we met, so I'm confident you'll travel in the right circles. If you discover a way in, I need you to report it to me immediately. Any questions, Knight?"

"No. No, I don't."

"Very well then. Dismissed."

Delilah took the vertibird down to the airport and looked out at the city's ruins. She began her trek back through the narrow streets, intensely aware of how alone she was. Do you remember this? Before everything good ever happened to you? Gun in hand, hiding in alleys and running through streets-- you were powerful. You were free. But that's gone now, isn't it? It's all gone. She needed to find something to shut the thoughts up, soon. Med-x would do nothing but numb any joint pain she had, she knew that from experience.

The way the streets were laid out was confusing, even after she'd lived there for several years. She didn't try to engage the raiders living in alleys and parking garages and stayed low as a pack of feral ghouls shuffled by, growling. So she walked through an alley and found herself back outside Goodneighbor. It's where drifters and people looking to be forgotten go. It's where you go. She pushed open the door, stepping inside to what looked like one of her old bases. The people had a bit less skin and a bit better guns, but other than that nothing had changed. She passed through the alley, looking down a set of stairs at a subway entrance where a neon sign flashed 'The Third Rail' and the image of a bottle. She walked in.

It was loud, music filtering up from below and a ghoul in a suit nodded for her to go on down. She stepped down a broken escalator, glancing to the side as a woman onstage sang to a drunk crowd. You're back in your element. Buy a drink, find someone looking to hurt someone else. Start a fight. End a fight. She sat at the counter and nursed a watered-down beer. The song ended, and the woman walked over to the bar, taking a seat and accepting a water from the bartender. Delilah looked over at her, wanting to talk. She kept quiet, knowing full well not to bother performers on break. Magnolia noticed her glances and spoke first.

"Why, hello. Did you like the song?" Her smile was pleasant.

"I've never heard that one before. Who wrote it?" Delilah asked.

"I did. Everything I sing is an original."

"It was… gorgeous."

"Flatterer. I think you and I are going to get along. Now there's something special about you isn't there? Don't tell me. Let me guess... You're a survivor, aren't you? I bet the whole world could stand in your way and you'd just keep going." Magnolia said, eyeing her.

"Yeah. Yeah, that sounds about right." Delilah replied.

"So what brings a girl like you to my part of town?"

"Just drifted in."

"That sounds like how a lot of us came through." They lapsed into a friendly silence. Delilah got her another water and drank half of a weak beer before Magnolia had to get back up to sing. It was emptier, most of the residents probably leaving to sleep somewhere. Delilah left the counter and noticed an adjacent room with a large 'VIP' sign in bright lights over top.

"What's that room?" She asked the Mr Handy bartender.

"That's where the resident mercenary's hanging out. If you need an extra gun, he's your man." She walked over to it, noting the mannequins posed on either side.

Inside a short man was arguing with two men almost twice his size. Delilah waited.

"I don't take orders from you. Not anymore. So why don't you take your girlfriend and leave while you still can." He looks like a kid.

"What? Winlock, tell me we don't have to listen to this shit." The man in the army helmet said.

"Listen up, MacCready. The only reason we haven't filled your body with bullets is that we don't want a war with Goodneighbor. See, we respect people's boundaries. We know how to play the game. It's something you never learned." Winlock said quietly.

"Glad to have disappointed you." He sounds like a kid.

"You can play the tough guy all you want. But if we hear you're still operating in Gunner territory, all bets are off. You got that?"

"You finished?" MacCready asked. He is a kid isn't he?

"Yeah, we're finished. Come on Barnes." The men in combat armor left, giving Delilah a once-over as they went. She held her ground calmly, not moving as they pushed by.

"Look pal, if you're preaching about the Atom or looking for a friend, you've got the wrong guy. If you need a hired gun, then maybe we can talk." He looked annoyed.

"I'm interested. If you think you got what it takes." Delilah said, doing her best to look sly. It failed miserably, she just looked like she was slightly dissociating.

"You're joking right? I've been doing this since I was a kid. I know my way around. Used to run with the Gunners for god's sake."

"Never heard of the Gunners. Who are they?"

"One of the biggest gangs in the Commonwealth. Got a rep for being crazy-- you know, so tightly wound you'd think they were a cult or something. Stuck with them for a while because the money was good, but I never really fit in. That's why I made a clean break and started flying solo. Now what about you? How do I know I won't end up with a bullet in my back?" He asked.

"You don't. But I can give you caps if it'd let you rest easy."

"That's some awful phrasing, but okay. 250 caps, up front. And there's no room for bargaining."

"You really think you're all that? I don't know. Would you take 150?"

"Jesus you make a tough offer. 200."

"Done." She tossed him a bag of caps.

Chapter Text

"Why bottle caps?" Delilah asked.

"What?" MacCready asked.

"Who looked at everything and decided 'okay, let's use bottle caps off of fucking bottles, this is a good plan'. What happens when you're carrying a few hundred at once? Hell I was carrying a few hundred at once. Ever considered using the random packs of cash? Or bartering?" She kicked one of the cans in the street as she stepped out of the subway entrance.

"How would I know that?"

"Fair. Where do we go to get work or whatever?" Delilah asked.

"Hancock's got some work, and Bobbi No-Nose is apparently hiring, she's down that alley." He pointed to a narrow trash-filled alleyway.

"Cool." Delilah said and walked into the State House.

It was dim, lit by candles and the place had a haze of red smoke and stunk of alcohol. She climbed the stairs, spotting Hancock lounging on a couch.

"What can I do for you? My house is your house. My town is your town."

"Looking for work."

"Work, huh? I'll tell you what. I got reconnaissance needs. There's a lot weird talk coming in about a placed called the Pickman Gallery. It's Raider territory up there, but they've been quiet. Like, uncomfortable post-coitus quiet? Snoop it out, and give me the word."

"I might be interested, but let's talk money, Hancock."

"Ruthless! Nice. You might actually live long enough for me to pay you. All right, 400 caps. But that's all the town coffers can bear."

--

Pickman Gallery was a bright red door at the back of an alley littered with trash and raider corpses. Delilah was careful stepping over them. MacCready just plowed right through.

"What the heck kind of place is this?" Was the quiet question. Delilah didn't answer and pushed open the door carefully. Almost immediately the smell of rotting meat and blood hit them.

"A fucked up place, apparently." Delilah muttered and dropped low, heading in and hiding behind a bloody box as she readied her rifle. Two snipers was probably not the best choice coming through a small area, but there wasn't any way to change it. There were raiders somewhere else, panicked and shouting to each other.

"They're... they're dead, Seth. I'm lookin' at a... a goddamn painting of Kyle's body! Oh god... What the hell do they do to him?" one said, staring at a dark red painting. Delilah took aim carefully and shot him in the head. His companion screamed, drawing a pistol and looking around frantically. MacCready was the one to kill him.

She followed the sewer system and maze of tunnels to where Pickman was surrounded by raiders, fighting them off with a knife. She did her job though, and killed the attackers before dropping down in front of him. He at least seemed pleased to see her.

"That was close, thank you. They would have killed me. Those people deserved worse than death." Pickman said gratefully.

"Maybe you deserve the same." Delilah said without hesitation.

"So sayeth one born killer to another. Regardless, I pay my debts." He was unintimidated, casual as he swung his arms slightly and flashed her a smile.

"If I let you live."

"I'm helping you just by doing what I love. Why squander such gifts?"

She let him go. Just let him walk away. A few more dead raiders were fine, maybe he'd die in the process.

--

She reached Goodneighbor at midnight, choosing to just tramp her way up the creaking stairs and into where the mayor was. He waved through the haze of fumes.

"Hey, you scope out Pickman Gallery, yet? What's happening over there?' Hancock asked, leaning backward on his sagging couch.

"Let's just say Pickman's art isn't going to have much resale value once all those bodies start decaying." Delilah said.

"Well, they say all artistic inspiration is ephemeral, am I right? Wish I could say that was the most twisted thing I've ever heard of, but it ranks up there… top three… I'll put the word out. Tell people to stay clear of that area. Hiring you was definitely one of my better moments. Here. Spend the money in good health." He threw the bag of caps at her and she grabbed at it, catching it after it bounced off her chest.

--

Find Bobbi No-Nose for work. Simple. She left MacCready, sent him back to the Third Rail, headed for Bobbi through the rising cloud of dissociation and thoughts screaming hatred into her skull. Take the job. Kill the mirelurks. Find someone else. Come back to Bobbi.

Simple.

Right?

No. It's not simple. It's sin. And you're fading fast. You're crumbling and crashing to the ground and everyone around you is waiting to watch you fall.

Take the job. Go into the tunnels. And come back alive.

Simple.

Chapter Text

hello everyone. i'm not sure if its acceptable practice to do this, but i wanted to make an update on this fic.

a lot has changed since i wrote it, i'm almost graduated college now, and my writing style has changed too. but i haven't ever forgotten this fic, or any of the ones i've stopped working on. they live rent free in my fuckin head. i go back sometimes just to reread y'alls comments, they're really all wonderful.

and i haven't truly abandoned this fic, either. which is why i'm writing this.

i'm rewriting it, with a clear goal in mind and my new style in hand. updates will of course be spotty since my will to write is at odds with the ol' mental health and also my college deadlines. but if you want to read the first chapter, i've linked it below:

https://archiveofourown.info/works/44252170/chapters/111284158

if you don't want to read it, and just stick with what i originally wrote, that's completely ok too, i won't mind. i'll always be proud of this fic, since it's tied with sightless as my biggest one, even without ever being finished.

so yeah, take a peek if you're interested, if not, see y'all on the flip side