Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Another sunny day, a little chilly but that’s normal for late October in Massachusetts. Soon it’d snow and they’d all have to bundle up.  But that wasn’t important. What was important was looking nice for the Veteran’s Ball that evening. Her husband had just bought her a new set of pearls and she planned to look fabulous.

“Are you done in the shower yet, Dude?” She asked, pushing the door open a bit as he wiped the mirror clean, his wet hair presently tied back. “All done, Dear; I didn’t use all the hot water so you might indulge if you like.”

Dude, the most gorgeous man she’s ever met. Her happily wedded husband. She was so lucky.

He was much shorter then her, black hair and porcelain skin with a bit of oriental descent visible on his face-she thinks it probably was from his father’s side-not that he’d tell her. Though, unlike most people, Princess didn’t care-she absolutely loved him; he treated her right.

He gave her a peck on the cheek as she touched up her makeup and slipped the pearls on with his help. There was some back and forth, about the weather and Shaun, the plans for the week. Home-y things.

The two of them finally left the bathroom when Codsworth notified them that breakfast was ready, Dude picked up the newspaper and began reading while she went to settle on the couch-not even a second after sitting, the doorbell rang.

“I’ve got it Dear.” Dude said, without missing a beat and answered the door.

    “Vault-Tec calling!” And immediately she tuned the conversation out. Honestly, she wanted nothing to do with Vault-Tec Employees, most were either miserable or the most awful company or so in your face Princess would rather punch them.

    But before she moved out of her parent’s house she’d never had a problem with them, since her father ran the Personnel Division of Vault-Tec Massachusetts. Still does. He actually was the one to set them up in Sanctuary when Vault 111 was finished. Despite how rude he was, he wanted Shaun to be safe.

    The door closed and she heard him smile. “All taken care of then? Whatever that was?” She asked, and Dude smiled and ran a thumb over her cheek. “Yes, he was just making sure our paperwork was in order for the vault.”

Well, that made sense, Princess mused, with the threat of the world ending seeming closer every day. Only necessary.

    “Miss Princess, I’ve changed Shaun’s diaper, but he doesn’t seem to want to calm down; maybe some of the maternal affection you’re so good at will do the trick?” Codsworth called, drifting into the living room again.  Dude let her go, watching the TV for the moment as she made her way into the infant’s room.

    Nine long months ago, when she figured out she was pregnant… and so did her mother; she had just been dating Dude(steady for roughly two years at that point).  Her mother was just fine with her being pregnant, just as long as she was married and taken care of. Which is when Dude was informed they were getting married. She still doesn’t know what her mother did to get him to do it…but…she honestly still is happy it was done.

    The infant clasped her hand, and cooed a bit at her as she smiled sweetly. Proud of the little person they’d made…

    “My little Shaun…”  She murmured, and looked up at Dude when he spoke; “Dazzling you as always?” Princess giggled, “On his best behavior, just like his dad…” He added as he walked over to the edge of the crib. She cocked an eyebrow at him and he smiled a bit. “…Most of the time.”

    “I see you fixed the Shaun’s rockets.” Princess noted, batting at the mobile to get it spinning, delighting in the baby’s laughter. He nodded, “So honey, I was thinking we could go to the park…bundle Shaun up and enjoy the sunshine…”

    “Hmm… A walk in the park sounds nice…but then again…last time we went for a walk in the park…” A devilish smile crossed his face, and Princess began to laugh…

    “Um…Sir! Mum! You should come see this!” Codsworth called worriedly from the living room. “Codsworth? What’s wrong…?” Princess asked, even as Dude walked quickly out of the baby’s room. Wrapping their son up in his Jangle’s the Moon monkey blanket and carried him after Dude…

    “… Followed by…yes…followed by…flashes, blinding flashes. Sounds of explosions…we’re…uh.. trying to get confirmation…we’ve seem to lost contact with our other stations….That’s uh…confirmed reports…yes…confirmed reports of nuclear detonation…My god…”

Her heart was racing loudly in her chest as the screen turned to white static; she was frozen till Dude grabbed her arm. “We have to get to the Vault, Princess-NOW!” His tone commanding, breaking her fear long enough for them to start running-the day was crisp…sunny…not the kind of day you expected the world to end.

    The two of them ran up the hill, sirens blasting their warning at deafening volumes. Shaun however, seemed barely bothered.  A crowd of people were gathered at the gate, shouting, screaming in desperation but no one was brave enough to try and push past the two suits of T-51 power armor with two mini-guns. Not even the Vault-Tec Rep who screamed as he fled back to town.

    “Let us through-“ Princess gasped, holding Shaun to her as she tried to catch her breath. “We’re…we’re on the list…”

    “Female, Male…Infant, go on through.” The Soldier said, stepping out of the way as Dude took the lead again, gripping her arm tight as she looked back at the people. A Vault Tec Security Officer yelled for the people let through to follow “What’s going to happen to them…?” She whispered, though no one answered her. Dude was focused on getting the three of them to the Vault, like everyone else. A moment of hesitation now could prove fatal…

“Get in the middle of the platform!”

    Princess stumbled, but managed to slide on her knees instead of face planting with Shaun in her arms. Partly because Dude kept her up right with a grunt.

“Are you alright?” He asked, his normally neutral face starting to show concern… and hostility as they stayed there.

“Ye- yeah! Shaun’s okay too-“ Princess said, raising her voice above all the noise when there was a loud crash. Looking past her husband, her neighbors and over the tree line towards Boston…at the bright light that appeared; that unholy mushroom shape- the end of the world.

    Dude hugged her and Shaun tight, putting himself between her and the blast as the platform lowered. The hot air and dust rushing down after them almost made her scream in panic…and into darkness they went.

    At least for a little while, when the bright florescent lights of the Vault assaulted their eyes, and the oh-so-happy sounding Vault-Tec Employee started his speech without a due. “Welcome to your new home! Vault 111!” People began to murmur, worry, and mutter as Dude helped her stand up right again. “…That…was too close…” Princess squeaked, she didn’t realize she was shaking until now when he placed both hands on her shoulders. He never had to say anything, when she felt afraid, his eyes said a number a things that calmed her down…at least so she could stand without worrying if she was going to fall.

    Then his head tilted slightly, and a lop sided grin crossed his face as he took in a deep breath. “And we forgot sunscreen…”            

    A few moments passed as people began to slowly file off the platform, and a shaky laugh escaped her. “I forgot my t-too-toothbrush too…” He pressed his forehead to hers a moment, as they took a second to center themselves before moving behind the last set of people heading into the Vault.

    Princess noted how sterile the air smelled as they received their Vault Suits, the employee’s being extremely friendly. Like they didn’t know the Apocalypse  just happened above. Princess stayed closed to Dude as he and the Doctor talked tech-babble…something about the plumbing…

    There was a lot of it, more than the other Vault’s she got to see when she was younger with her father. And it was chilly…she had goose-bumps as they proceeded further. “Dude…” She whined a bit, he raised a hand, which was his way of saying ‘just a moment dear’, as he pressed the Doctor further. At this point, they were standing in front of weird pods…which would have bothered her, if Shaun hadn’t started crying.

    “Love…” She started, the baby’s fussing getting louder by the second.

    Dude turned to the both of them, “Hush Dear, we’re safe now…it’s alright little man…Daddy’s here...” He smoothed her frazzled hair and let Shaun hold his finger while he calmed down. “It’s going to be okay Princess…” He said, placing a hand gently on her cheek.

“…Are you sure…?” she asked

    “When am I not?”

Chapter Text

The biting cold of the cryogenic pod still kept his limbs numb and aching, his lungs burning and his throat raw. He’d known there was something wrong. The pods were all wrong for what they were saying, but he didn’t want to scare Princess any more then she was. He hadn’t seen her that terrified since their third date exploded.  The drugs and the nightmare of her soldiering days had taken a nasty toll on the woman.  A broken mess wouldn’t get him anywhere politically…well…not that that’s terribly relevant anymore.

    But now, as his vision finally focused enough to see the two people walking up to Princess’s pod, still sealed, his Beautiful still frozen in sleep.  The man didn’t look like a vault employee, rough leathers and rough metal armor-while the woman… might be? But the Hazard Suit wasn’t Vault-Tec blue and gold.

    Dude tapped the glass a couple times, grimacing slightly as feeling register again.

    They didn’t respond to him at all. The scientist (he assumed) opened up Princesses’ pod.

    Princess gasped, and almost fell out of her seating right there. Coughing loudly as Shaun began screaming in distress. “…Is…Is it over…?” He heard her ask in a strained whisper, and the woman said yes, soothing, extending her arms to take Shaun. “…N-…No…it’s alright…I…I’ve got him.”

    Princess looked up in her labored breathing at him, and looked relieved until the woman actually tried to take the baby away. “No! I said I’ve got him!” She said, pain in her voice; and the glint of a gun caught Dude’s attention. Dude desperately felt around him for a release, a catch, something.  He had to get her attention-he had to get out. Break every limb in their bodies and twist them in their skin. Nothing. Nothing to work with. Nothing to do but watch. And pray that he’s wrong

    “Not gonna ask you again, hand over the boy.” The man growled.

“NO! NO I WON’T LET YOU TAKE SHAUN!” Princess shouted, she didn’t seem aware of the imminent threat, a few more attempts to keep their child away…and there was a crash of muted thunder.

He’s never wrong.

    Crimson splashed the back side of the pod, and Princess slumped back, struggled weakly, stilled. Shaun’s crying became screaming as the woman tried to calm him down while the man hissed, “God damn it!” He shook his head, lowering the smoking gun and approached Dude’s pod; showing off his balding head and long rough scar across his eye.

    An almost twisted smile crossed his face when Dude’s fist slammed to a stop inches from the sneering mug, leaving a red smear across the glass. “At least we have the backup…”

“I’m going to kill you.” Said Dude, the cold of the reactivated cryogenic cage sinking its teeth back into his bones, half as cold as the fury in his eyes.

Dude is never wrong .

    “ Cryogenic Suspension Failure. “

    He’d clawed his way across the floor to her pod, and shakily activated the pod. Even as he watched ice crystals melt from the glass-her’s was thankfully still working, just like his had been…but he hadn’t seen where she’d been shot.

    When it was open, he climbed up into the pod, his hands were still shaking as he looked for where the gunshot had landed…Dude sucked in a breath as he brushed her still frozen hair aside-what was still there and not shaven by the bullet, to look at the head wound. It was hard to tell how much damage was done, especially with the blood thawing… running down the side of her head, blending in with her scarlet colored hair…

    Princess was still bleeding.  

She was still alive.    

    He held his breath and let it out slowly. He had to save her. Would. Save her “Hang in there, just a bit longer Princess.” Carefully, he pulled her from the pod-clutching her tightly as he could to her when he finally heard her breath.

    A shuddering gasp, each one still wheezy but that was better than a moment ago. “I’ll be back, -stay with me…just a bit longer…” Dude just wanted to hear her speak, mumble, to do something. To show him she was well. But not yet.  Sitting her down against the pod, he ran.

    The place was empty, equipment rusting and malfunctioning. The door to outside was busted, He’d have to find another med kit. There should be a station somewhere nearby. He shortly found what he needed and returned to her side, stumbling and out of breath.

“Thank god.” He whispered, sliding down next to her, he heard her mumble.

    “De-ar…?” Weak and raspy. Dazed.    

    “Shhhh~” He said, pushing the remaining hair aside to expose the wound. “A moment for the medicine to kick in, Beautiful.”  A Stimpak is supposed to be applied to a major muscle, or the heart in dire need. It is not supposed to be used piecemeal as a direct application and  never, under any circumstances, tamper with the pressure gauge. Dude did both of these things, on the off chance in the truth of an old battlefield rumor. Princess let out this high pitched yip, sounding like an injured puppy, and tried to jerk away from the source of pain.

    Well, that’s a good sign.

    “OW! OW! OW! OW! OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!” Princess shrieked, and Dude pressed her down to keep her from moving to terribly much; only releasing her when she stopped squirming…

    She was whimpering, curled up tightly for a moment, shaking as the wound slowly closed, the bone growing back in over the exposed grey… and just laid there breathing. All Dude could do at this point was rub her back, humming lightly till she looked at him with big green eyes. “….Dude…?”    

    “Yes, Lovely?”

    “…My head hurts…” Fat tears were running down her face, “Shhh~Shhhh…” He immediately started to sooth her, “Dude…where is Shuan…I…I had him…He…” Dude continued, wiping the tears away. “Shh~we just have to go rescue him.” Princess had a bit of a hiccup, rubbing her face; “O-okay…” Beautiful Princess-Always faithful, didn’t even ask why-he could tell her the sky was yellow and she wouldn’t question it.

    “Alright…come on, up slowly Dear.” He helped her to her feet, letting her use him to maintain her balance. “Tell me if anything hurts…” Dude said softly, when she didn’t answer he was concerned a moment-but she smiled at him. Her pure, though tired grin…”Let’s go rescue our baby boy…”  He nodded, and let her stand on her own and took the lead through the Vault.

    The other residents, frozen still-but all dead within their pods; and the few bodies outside-that used to be the staff, desiccated and mummified. He took the time now that Princess would be well; to look into the terminals they came across. Vault-Tec and their experiments.

    Well, it was ingenious really, sheep wandering to a slaughter house unaware of their great savior’s plans. Hell, half the staff didn’t seem aware of it themselves; compartmentalizing each and every project so that there was no chance that some random schmuck from the street could catch wind.

    “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooo…. THEY SHOULDN’T BE THAT BIG!”    

To be fair roaches the size of house are rather unnerving. Of course, Princess wigged out; she hated bugs and it appeared they were now plus size, still proved little match for the frightened housewife with a baton or him with a 10mm.  He covered what she couldn’t hit right away, mildly amused that despite being horribly dizzy at times-that she still had fight in her.

    That was his darling wife, closer to a Valkyrie, then a pampered Princess.    

When they finally arrived at the door, discovered a set of Pip-Boys, Princess was exhausted-he needed to get her home, feed her if possible…if home was even there. He glanced at her as she sat down on the table while the Pip-Boy unlocked the Vault Door…

    She was porcelain, pale even for her complexion; he probably should have cleared the way for them and had her follow so she didn’t exert herself. But what’s done is done, he’d just have to take care of her at home, whatever was left of it.

    “Are you alright, Princess?” He asked, turning to her once the door started to open. “…Just tired…” She said, putting a hand to the side of her head-and the utter horror on her face almost made him pause.

    “MY HAIR!?”

    He smiled, taking her hand before she started stressing too terribly,

“You’re so beautiful.” Dude kept smile as she blushed and stammered with embarrassment.

“And you always will be.” He brushed her hair aside to look at the new scar, it wasn’t extremely noticeable if her hair was down…but if someone were to notice-they’d likely associate her…simpler mind with the injury.    

    By the time they got to the elevator, she was practically asleep on her feet; barely able to keep up right as the platform began to rise. He placed a hand around her waist-and held her up-she smiled at him and he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead: “Ready Dear?”

    “No…” She whispered and cringed as the harsh sun hit their faces, “But if you’re here…I’ll be just fine.” However, he felt her legs fully give with shock at the ruined landscape; and her body begin to shake.

    “Shhh…” He started, and scooped like they were newlyweds again.  Even if his own legs felt a bit iffy. “We’ll be home soon, and you can go to sleep for a bit.” Princess took comfort in this, and hid her face against his chest; as if hiding away would change the world back

    They would be home soon.    

    He was fine with Princess not paying attention as he carried her down the hill, the bodies of the people who weren’t so lucky picked clean to bone with hardly any scraps of cloth left. The few vehicles rusted clear to their frames, the old advertisement for the Vault barely holding together. Unlike Dude, Princess cared for other people; the world, where he only saw opportunity and value to someone’s presence in his life…save his sweet wife.  

    She was the only thing that mattered; he’d set the world on fire with a grin if someone ever hurt her without a second thought. His mind drifting to the incident-to the man who shot her; he was going to burning him slowly, continuing into some torture techniques the Chinese were fond of using on American Soldiers.

    To his surprise, when he turned onto the street; he saw the glint of tarnished metal by their old family home. He walked without pause straight to it, if it was hostile it would have tried to kill them already-but good fortune dictated: it was their old Jeeves…Codsworth.

    “…Sir…?”

Chapter Text

And here they are-Concord; collapsed buildings and old shops picked clean by looting and time. Not many were in good enough condition to stand properly as many slanted or had just fallen apart. Princess however, wasn’t paying too much mind to it-almost skipping down the sidewalk with Dude tarrying behind.

    She spun in place, smiling at Dude who looked smashing in the black slacks and suspenders she found for him while he and Codsworth had wandered off for a bit; the robot drifting not far behind him-while Dogmeat barked at her by her feet.

    Currently, she was dressed in a cute  blue and yellow outfit-that let her breath in the new wasteland heat-with nice comfortable flats to walk it, she was absolutely ecstatic over the fact she still could have some fashion.  Swinging the baton lightly at nothing as he caught up, “…Do you think people survived outside of Vaults?”

    “It’s a possibility Princess, people can be quite resilient and overcome no matter the depth of the adversity.” Dude answered, stopping by her. Codsworth added with a bit of matter of fact to his tone. “Plenty people did, not in the best shape, but they did. There was a man who stayed with me for a great while-“

    He was going to continue but his three eyes looked further up the street, as Dogmeat growled. “Hostile life signs detected Sir.”

    Dude nonchalantly pulled the pistol from its makeshift holster, and loaded it fully as Princess went to look herself at what was making their new doggy upset. The first bullet, startled her a bit-before her reflexes kicked in-it had been many years since the harsh fighting in the trenches of Alaska but once a soldier-always a soldier.

    She’d just turned twenty in the year 2066, defiant to her father’s wishes to stay out of harm’s way-Princess joined the military and was quickly shipped to the cold northern battlefield to help defend the Anchorage War front from the invading Chinese forces.  A trial by fire scenario, she watched a lot of young men and women die fighting alongside her; watching blood color the snow of Alaska’s harsh winter.  

    By the next year, the first suits of T-45d Power Armor was outfitted to several units, her squad at the time had been made of patchwork survivors of the previous year’s recruits-were unluckily outfitted with only one suit.

    At the time, she ran out of ammunition to frequently-having a hard time distinguishing the Red’s in the winter camouflage, she began specializing in melee fighting styles of combat. Which eventually had her squad leader designate her the Tank, and gave her the t-45 power armor. She did a lot of the heavy lifting, and her squad-though rag tag became a reliable task force.

    Princess stumbled; her head was ringing as she struck the raider down-dropping the baton as she held her head. It was never pleasant to remember these things; she hated it-because in the end…it didn’t matter. After she left the service, the complete annex of Canada happened; the rioting got worse; the New Plague Epidemic destroyed Denver-then the world ended.

    “Darling?”

    Dude’s voice made her focus again on reality, looking up at him even as her head continued to ring. “Yes, honey?” She smiled at him, trying to hide the fact she was hurting currently. Princess didn’t want him to worry…

    But as always, it was like she was glass- (A lovely pretty stained glass, as Dude would always say) her husband saw through her attempt at a mask. Gently thumbing her cheek, “What hurts Dear?” She hadn’t realized she’d been grazed by a few bullets, a little scorched by Codsworth flamer, but thanks to him asking-she noticed.

    “Ow.” She huffed, and her brow creased, “No, don’t do that, you’ll get wrinkles-and I  know how you feel about that.” He smiled at her as she began to get all flabbergasted, then she jumped back after the hard stab of a stim to her chest. “DUDE! STOP DOING THAT! I-” Princess yelled, rubbing her collar where he had managed to jab her. “You needed it.” He said, matter-a-factly. She was going to continue swearing at him, but the whirr of a laser rifle made her stop; followed by more gunshots.

    “…One against…five…six.” She mumbled, Dude raised an eyebrow at her. “…The sound….when it...” It took her a moment to put into words that others could understand, it made total sense in her head.

    Whoever was firing the ballistic rounds sounded closer, while the laser rifle sound farther away but it all sounded funneled; sounded like someone yelling through a horn.

    “...Darn it! I wish I was as smart as you love! I’d be able to tell you things!”

    Dude gave her a soft smile, one of his rarely seen smiles that he only ever showed her-soft and warm; his eyes half closing for a moment with kindness. “You are smart my darling Princess, just in different ways….and as for the fighting…that does sound about right.”

    He always talked to her like she was a person, always , from day one when he first met her-it was part of the reason she became so smitten with him. Despite her IQ being rated a 2 on the S.P.E.C.I.A.L scale of things-he didn’t say they were wrong, hell sometimes she agreed that she wasn’t that bright…

    She unfortunately recalled every time she hurt herself through easily avoidable means.

    But the point is, he supported her and didn’t take her down a peg every time she opened her mouth, or talked as if she wasn’t present; in fact anyone dumb enough to hurt her feelings with him in the vicinity suffered some form public humiliation…    

    He dressed them down, all while smiling, others smiled and laughed or judged them so harshly and I…Oh… he was doing it for me.

    “Shall we go investigate Sir?” Codsworth asked Dude, and he nodded. “You and I will follow Princess and Dogmeat, Stay at range till they need more assistance.” The robot raised one of its arms enthusiastically, “Of course Sir.”

    Princess picked up the baton when she noticed the raider she had dispatched had a pipe wrench with a hook fashioned on the end. “Ooooo~”  Giving it a few swings, she put the baton on her hip and wielded her new weapon with a little more excitement than a housewife should have for violence.

    “Take the lead Dear; I’ll be right behind you.”

    That she did, following the noise didn’t take much effort-a blind man could find his way to the fire fight in his sleep with how much lead was being flung around. And shouting, whoever was attacking was poorly coordinating it-and their focus was entirely on the Museum of Freedom…where the lone laser rifle user was on a balcony, sniping.

    The red light arched and missed the first shot, barely, but still missed-that was an odd laser weapon-normally their very straight and to the point weapons. She paused to watch the pretty light again, and this time it totally missed, the user was swearing.

    Then a raider ran at her with a barb wire wrapped pool cue, and that wouldn’t do at all; that would ruin her nice new clothes! Letting him charge in around the sandbag barricade, the man wasn’t expecting a dog to come leaping at him, grabbing ahold of his leg and tripping him up.

    Princess then used that delightful hook to rip his weapon out of his hands, and scraped his face with it along the way before proceeding to cut and bash him with her wrench. Almost wild flailing as he tried to defend himself from both Dogmeat and her-only to die with a bit of red spray as she cut his neck open.

    She didn’t enjoy killing people, she enjoyed the adrenaline rush associated with violence, and does that make her a bad person? She doesn’t like hurting people but when it happens she excels at it? Princess never got that answer, but Dude always comforted her-maybe that’s why people asked if he did strange things behind closed doors…not that she really ever understood what they meant by strange.

    A punch to the face made her stumble back…

    STUPID , you’re supposed to be paying attention.

    Another gunshot nicked her, and then she heard Codsworth charging up as Dogmeat chased down another one. The one who punched her, as she went to swing-she had the privilege of being covered in brain matter as his head exploded into bits.

    With an upset shriek, she stomped her foot-“I really liked these clothes!” Princess felt hot tears stinging at her face, about to lose her ever loving mind on the remaining raiders; even with one of her eyes swelling as she leapt over a car hood at the first one to realize she was coming. He had a double barreled shotgun, and she felt it when the pellets hit her leg; her pip boy lighting up with a crippled limb warning.

    Princess made the raider who had made her start to bleed pay with an angry war-cry, Dude moved closer to behind her, she heard him trying to shuffle through their bag pockets for another stim, which she refused presently to get jabbed with-she hated needles. So, practically hopping forward on one foot to get out of reach-to hear the mildly annoyed sigh behind her as Codsworth let the two of them know the last raider was down.

    “Princess, if you don’t stop that’ll get infected. Come here.”

    “You just stabbed me with one of those a few minutes ago! I don’t need another one!”

    “ Dear .” His tone hardened causing her to stop, not that tone, that-‘I’m scolding you tone and you know you’re wrong, so you’ll see it my way tone’-she hated it… cause she always lost; because he was right.

    He sauntered on up, and gently pressed it to her leg, giving her a kiss on the nose and smiling at her as her leg was fixed along with the other assorted injuries that popped up. Which eased her stress on the issue when someone above the four of them yelled; she didn’t quite hear over Dogmeat’s excited barking and Codsworth’s engine but Dude seemed to just fine.

    “Well, it seems the gentleman needs our help Princess, shall we?” Dude looked at her, passively neutral-fine with helping or just leaving.  She looked up at the man again, tilting her head at the somewhat…Pilgrim-y… look he had, the angry red of the laser rifles chamber dulled in the sunlight. He looked tired, he’d must been doing this for a while now.

    “Yes, of course-let’s go help!” Princess bounced slightly on her newly restored leg-laughing a bit as Dogmeat did the same, she liked her new puppy. Codsworth hovered by Dude till he turned, “Go ahead and head back to the Red Rocket Codsworth-we’ll try to be back this evening.”

    “Of course Sir! I’ll see about preparing dinner, see what’s handy.” He said, as enthusiastically as ever,  it’s still hard to think he did okay these past 200 hundred years-with how he acted, like nothing ever happened.

    Still hard for her to grasp herself, she had to admit-but oh well, she had Dude and everything would be alright.

    Now Princess looked at the building once again, the old Museum of Freedom-looking a bit rough, tattered red, white and blue cloth gently flapped in the light breeze and on the roof looked to be a vertiberd. Vertiberd’s meant military, so something head to be up there-even if it was just a box of ammunition or some repairing equipment.

    If anything, scavenging was always good to do even if nothing else was accomplished to make their new home better.  

    The sun washed through the broken ceiling, arches barely holding broken shards of glass-making the fabric murals rather hard to see-well…it didn’t help that two steps into the lobby before Dude stopped her from rushing ahead, motioning to the raiders whose attention was currently focused to the sniper.

    She crouched, and looked at the area-a single gate that was currently closed and an opening to the side that looked like a path to be trodden-exploring sounded fun, no, don’t get distracted-Princess, you’re here to help!

    Clearing out ahead for Dude was easy, these raiders focused completely on her as she practically galloped through the maze-Dogmeat at her side.    

    Princess had no fear, knowing her husband wasn’t far behind to keep her safe from those who would believe they had the advantage. The shepherd biting at their heels and chewing their arms as she came running up to meet them-and introduce her new weapon.

    “Here, some more things to take home.”  Dude said putting some more junk in her pack when they had a moment-she carried most of the weight-while he carried important things like stims and ammo; not that she minded. Her S.P.E.C.I.A.L, her Strength was one of her higher traits at 6, followed by Luck at 6, Agility at 5 and Endurance at 4.

    Dude often explained to her that, an average individual would have one higher trait, while the rest remained at 3, maybe 4 on the 1-to-10 scale. It made her feel a little better that perhaps physically she was above average, but then again, her Perception and Intelligence were both at 2-yet another thing he didn’t judge her for.

    “Do you think we’ll be able to fix a bed frame? Maybe get more stuffing for the mattress?” Princess questioned as he put a small assortment of things in the bag, noting: duct tape, wonderglue, some pencils and a couple fans. Standing by the old Nuka Cola Machine, she waited anxiously for his response-she’d really didn’t want to sleep on the ground again if she could help it… “Ooo..Fancy Lad Cakes…” She chimed briefly distracted, pulling them out of the vending machine to pass to him.

“Mhmm. I plan on it.” Dude answered, taking the food with a mildly amused smile, before twitching his head to the side as a .38 round grazed by him. Thankfully it was only a scrape, but the sight of Dude bleeding.

    That. That wasn’t okay. Not one bit. No. No. nO. No one hurt Dude.

    Princess whipped around, smashing the charging melee raider to the wall to be finished off by Dogmeat when he fell. The shooter backed up as far as he could go, which was the edge of the top floor-he rocked unsteady for a second, and only for a second because punched him square in the nose. “Asshole!”

    And she watched him plummet back down to the lobby; then someone shouted to her right, jerking her head to the side to identify the voice; she saw it was the man from the balcony.  “Hurry, inside!”

    Princess hesitated at first, but to her surprise-Dogmeat barked almost happily and trotted right on into the room. Dude peeked around the corner a moment, and then looked at her. “After you Darling.” He lowered the sawed-off shot gun he apparently had picked up, though his finger was still resting on the side of the trigger; she was safe.

    “Hi-ya!” She practically bounced into the room at this point, startling the two gentlemen in the immediate entry of the room, Dude glided on in as if that were natural to do so-nodding. “Thanks for the help you two.”

    Princess smiled cheerfully, all covered in gore and dirt at this point, but they seemed to be just as dirty-don’t they know what baths are? You get sick if you don’t take baths. But it did make her feel a little less nervous that her hair was a mess and she was just absolutely disgusting at the moment. Dude began talking, beginning first with introductions-the one who had called out to them was Prestan Garvey, the grease monkey was called Sturges, there was Marcy and Jun Long…and Dogmeat laid down in front of the old woman dressed like a gypsy: Mama Murphy.    

    Princess didn’t like talking to people without Dude, but hesitantly she tried to start a conversation with the old woman-a little startled when she started speaking first.

    “You two are not what I expected Dogmeat to find in that little neighborhood; but oh, so much better.”

    Her heart dropped a little, “…So he’s your doggy?”

    Mama Murphy shook her head, “Oh he ain’t my dog. No Miss. Dogmeat is what you’d call his own man.” She looked at the mutt, as he wagged his tail obnoxiously against the couch’s front-thumping loudly as she continued on. “You can’t own a free spirit like that. But he chooses his friends, and sticks with ‘em.  He’ll stay by you now, I saw it.”

    Princess tilted her head, “… Saw it?”

    She tilted her head a little to the side, showing a bit of her ruined teeth as her eyes looked up in thought. “It’s the chems, kid….” Princess’s stomach hit the floor, chems. Bad things. Things that made Dude upset if he caught her using. She didn’t like it when he got upset. It wasn’t messy upset like her, it was quiet and cold and it scared her a little.

    “…-T45 power armor up on the roof-“ The Grease Monkey said, somewhat excitedly, though his words alone got her attention more than anything. Power Armor. Awesome, technological marvel of protection. “...Just need a fusion core…”

    Didn’t they see one before they came upstairs? OH yeah! He was fiddling around with a terminal and then the gate opened and came out with one. Such wonderful luck.

    Princess pawed slightly at her husband’s bag, as he continued to talk; one would think he was ignoring her but he moved his bag to his hip and let her dig through it. When she found it, she scrambled off to the roof-trying not to be too excited. She had no idea what to expect, she just knew a suit of power armor and mini-gun; she’d be unstoppable .

Chapter Text

“So…What are you looking for General? Aren’t we supposed to be hunting the raiders over there…?” Preston asked, after what was likely perceived as hours of silence; the Minuteman shifting his weight a tad bit nervously behind him as he opened up another First Aid kit. “Just some stims, rad away would be nice. Perhaps something more edible than Codsworth’s scorched…whatever it was…” Before the war, the robo-butler was quite capable of operating a stove and cooking the packaged food-but he didn’t seem to have any luck with any meat or vegetables they came across.

    Meaning Princess would have to learn to cook properly; she had improved just enough that he wasn’t mistaking eggs for hash browns anymore but it was still a mild concern that he might be poisoned by her cooking. Though it was endearing how hard she tried…like everything else; cooking, laundry, mending, she was just terrible at the housewife role.

    He wasn’t that great of a cook himself, but what can you do with processed and packaged food really.

    However, his first goal now was to get some food for Princess(preferably something sweet), who rested at the Red Rocket Station by Sanctuary-still recovering from what had happened at Concord; that beast, a Deathclaw, had really complicated the fight. It turned the power armor to bits, and almost her along with it; if the car hadn’t of exploded when it did- he would probably been burying her.

    Secondly, He needed to figure out a way to ease the pain from the gunshot, it seemed to have done more damage than it appeared and was beginning to complicate things. She described ringing, and difficulty maintaining a grasp on the here and now, which could be deadly in a fight later.  

    Not to mention the lack of sleep she was getting seemed to be making the symptoms more acute. Dude didn’t look visibly displeased, but Preston seemed an empathic sort; stepping away from him to look into another container.

    “Do you think the raiders will be hard to deal with? It…” Preston started, even as there was a long explosion in the distance-the flash visible so it wasn’t as far away as initially thought.  “They were giving that settlement real trouble.”

    “There were only a couple people there Preston. A pack of mangy mutts would give them problems.” Dude said, stepping smoothly away from the container, calm and nonchalant.

    “Come then, let us away Garvey.” Dude motioned, having the Minutemen take the front. “There are a lot of ghouls in Lexington, so be careful Sir, where you put your feet.” Dude nodded and followed his companion through the twisting alleys of Lexington. It was another passing hour before Preston asked a non-critical question again; looting an unfortunate raider who’d been cornered by ghouls at some point-collecting the ammo and anything else of use. “Were Princess and you really from before the war…? I mean, it’s hard to believe…”

    “How so, Garvey? I’ve gone over it more than once.”

The Minuteman stuttered an interesting mix of a sigh and grunt of irritation. “Sir, frankly- you two aren’t ghouls; I know you said you were frozen…”

    “If it’s a trouble, Garvey, pretend we’re beauteous ghouls.” Dude quips lightly. “The reality is less glamorous, however: Vault-Tec were assholes, we became popsicles, and now we’re lost in this time-hole of ass. What I wouldn’t give to take my ease over a decent lawn… a margarita perhaps…” He says, gazing off into a dream of better days.

“If you say so, Sir…”

    “And say so I do, Garvey. We’re here, this is what we’re doing, and on the morrow you can wake to new day of having saved the… what were their names again?”

“They were- “

    “No, remind me when we get back, please. I’ll just lose track again, we are about to indulge in a bit of excitement.” Dude says, jauntily waving off the information. “Speaking of, I do believe that’s our troublemakers over there. Shall we save the day then, Garvey?”

“Always ready, Sir.” Garvey says, charging his laser musket. “Just one thing though.”

    Dude pauses and looks back with a quirked eyebrow, “Yes?”

“What kind of drink is a lawn?”

...

“I’m down General!”

“So I see Garvey, if you could refrain from dying but a moment…” Dude quips calmly from behind cover. Rolling out his pouch of stimpacks, he listens to the incoming fire and moves as they start reloading. Dragging his Companion with him as the Stims take effect Dude continues, “So, what is the training involved in becoming a minuteman? Inspired perhaps by their namesakes? Really, Garvey. I have them exactly where I need them, don’t spook them now.”

“Sir. If I might point out. WE ARE SURROUNDED!” Garvey finishes with a shout, regaining his feet.

“Good, and if you’ll spray wildly in their direction with this sub-machinegun, I’ll surround them.”

“SIR, I DON”T-”

“Shut up and do as you’re ordered Soldier.” Dude commands, slamming the gun into the man’s chest.

    “...Yes, Sir…” Garvey says, readying his new weapon. “Any orders for our corpses, General. ”

“Not today, Preston. I’ll let you know when you have my permission to die. Fire.”

    With a last glare at his so-called superior, he leans out and fires the gun dry, hitting nothing with his wild aim. Looking back at the nonchalant man still leaning against he drops the useless thing and cranks his ‘Musket. “That authority isn’t-”

“LAST CHANCE,” Dude shouts, interrupting Preston. With a smirk. “SURRENDER OR DIE.”

    “Yeah? You and what-” The leader of this batch starts to shout, before being splattered across the cover sheltering the two of them. The din of the detonating grenades in every direction deafening them to the screams of the dying and maimed. As the world stopped shaking and was filled with a ringing silence, Dude glances around at his prey. One survived the blasts. Walking over to the broken body of the dying woman, he kicks it over so it can see him. Meeting her eyes he draws his gun for the first time since they arrived and levels it at her.

    “By your oath Preston Garvey, that authority is mine!” Dude says, Resounding in the silence of the dead, he turns a look of command at Garvey. “ You die when I goddam tell you to.”

The woman coughs and stirs beneath his boot. “Please-” She begins to beg. She never finishes. And Dudes’ clothing is finally mussed.

“Not one minute before.” Dude finishes.

...

    It had been a long day, being at a constant threat of some schmuck trying to jump you for bottle caps, or a dirty animal aiming to eat your entrails was not particularly delightful for someone who’d had designs on being the commander and chief of these slightly less radioactive states. Dude entered the workshop in the garage of the Red Rocket, sorting what little junk he had managed to carry from his duffel into varying crates-Preston emptying his own pack at his lead.

“Well, if you both need anything Sir, I’ll be at Sanctuary with the other settlers...and Codsworth.”

“Very good, Garvey, dismissed. Good job today.” He said waving a hand at him absently, or barely even looking at him to acknowledge him leaving- he just finished his sorting and hung his hat on a makeshift stand alongside his bag and Princess’s pack.

She’d stitched the tear, it seemed, meaning she’d been up and about while he was gone at some point. Well, that explains the smell of burned meat in the air. He’d told her to rest however, she’ll need to be reminded of that apparently. Setting his new weapon on the counter as he passed, he stopped at the doorway to their room.

There was his Princess, laying under a patchwork radstag and flag blanket; partially sprawled across their bed in her sleep. Her arm across where he would lay; occasionally twitching to grasp nothing- likely trying to find him. Her bandages were coming loose it looked like, ah well, he needed to see how the wounds were healing anyway.

He sauntered over and brought himself down on the extremely creaky bed frame-causing her to stir a little; then he leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Evening, Darling.”

Chapter Text

He’s home.

    Good . Princess cracked open an eye to look up at him with a soft sigh, before carefully stretching-taking all her power to not to grimace at her freshly healed ribs. “Evening, Dear...how was the trip…”

    “Tough negotiations as expected, but the settlement is peaceful and we’re friends now. Care to explain why you didn’t get the rest you ought to?”

Princess blinked, a visibly long pause in her eyes before she sat up the rest of the way to meet him-giving him a proper kiss before looking around for her clothes. Oh, did she leave them to dry after the mess. “...Erm...I hung up our laundry, could you see...if they’re still there please?”

    Hopefully they weren’t ruined, or stolen. That’s happened already-she caught one of them one time-needless to say, they didn’t plan on doing it again. And hopefully he didn’t notice the fact that her clothes were washed again. Princess contained a sigh; wrapping herself in the blanket as it became a little colder in the room-and batted her eyes at him.

    Not that she really needed to exercise her pretty face with him; if she asked nicely-he’d deliver the moon.

    It was so sweet .

He nodded, standing up and heading to the back where she normally left the clothes in the sun. She heard the back door open, and she didn’t hear it swing back closed-not to long after he walked to the bedroom doorway again.

    “Princess, why is there a pile of... large ... green ...men barbecuing on the car…?”

Oh shit .

    “Um.” Princess looked down, and shifted on the bed to place her feet on the little worn out rug that separated her skin from the concrete floor. She knew she forgot to ask Codsworth to do something or did she-and she just didn’t remember?

    “Codsworth...erm….found new meat to cook…” She started and immediately regretted the lie, cause the look on his face was amused.  “Try again when you’re better at it, Honey. Now why are there green men barbecuing on the car?” Princess felt his eyes drift over her, before boring holes into the crook of her arm.

    It was a point of shame, and loathing for her-was her old needle tracks from her time in the military; when she shot up Psycho so often her arm scarred and popped Buffout pills like they were candy. And even though the newer one was mostly healed, she knew, that he knew, what every single track mark looked like. He’d committed them to memory so she couldn’t hide new ones under old scars-and this was just the case.

    “ Princess. ”

She flinched and shook a little-and after steadying her breath under his cold gaze; she explained to the best of her ability what had happened that day.

Earlier that day…

“Such a good boy Dogmeat, thank you.” She petted the mutt as she took the knife carefully out of his mouth-as she carefully experimented on how to properly cut up a bit of molerat; it wasn’t the most appetizing thing to look, or smell but it was still better than Bloatflies or Bloodbugs (GROSS.)

    It was hard work, but Dude had showed her before she’d practically become crippled by the headaches and he had to go do something with Mr. Garvey. If it would help him, by doing it so he didn’t have to worry about it when he got home...she’d take care of it, even though it hurt.

    He had told her to sleep, which was another thing she wasn’t getting very well. She missed her soft bed, soft silky blankets and comfy pillows and...and…Princess sniffled, and rubbed her eyes, smearing a bit of foul smelling rodent blood across her face and quickly sputtering to try and get it off.

    The Shepard barked, and she looked down. “No, no, it’s okay boy.” Petting him again, she went back to taking care of the rat.

    It was that way for awhile, Princess and Dogmeat, soft humming along to a radio station that soft and sporadically played on a salvaged radio-while the host was different, the music was the same. Which was nice; all her favorite songs still played-she just wish Dude was here to dance with her when the urge hit-just like they did before this whole mess.

    It was about that time, as she spun around absently with a song that the make shift window shutters exploded inward. She hit the counter and bounced onto the floor, covered in rat-blood and splinters.

    Her ears were ringing-terror gripping her heart, her breath sounded at a distance and like someone else was doing it. Dogmeat was whining, trying to stand to her aid but seemed like something had hurt him pretty bad. Something hot ran down the side of her face, reaching up to find out what it was-only to discover her bandages had come off a little, and there was a cut weeping blood.

“ Ha-ha! Boom !”  

    “ Good. Good. Let’s see. Take what we can back .”

Princess didn’t feel too hot, but she grabbed the dog by the collar and pulled him to the around the counter, sliding him over broken wood and pushing him into the bedroom. “It’s okay boy-under the bed.” She whispered, pushing him further-smearing more blood.

This was going to be impossible to clean!

She felt anger start bubbling up; she just cleaned this place! She just cleaned her clothes! She was trying to set up dinner so Dude didn’t have to worry so much. And the raiders ruined it! Princesse huffed, and looked for her weapon-just a knife but it was better than running at them bear fisted right?

    It took a moment to find it, it having been launched along with everything else but she found it and scurried up to the busted windows.

    “Did you hear that?” One of them said, he sounded like he had a terrible cold- with an equally rough and kinda raspy voice to respond. “No, got fungus in ya ears.” There was laughing, sounded like four. “Na! Swore I heard somethin’.” Fifth.

    Five of them.

Shouldn’t be too tough, they wouldn’t be expecting her to attack them after that-Princess thought to herself, gripping the knife tight as she heard the footsteps approach the broken window.

    Like a viper, she stood and drove the knife into the first bit of flesh she could find, which happened to be a peck-also green; and she couldn’t get the knife out. Princess tugged, and stumbled back only because the knife snapped.

    “ARHH! PUNY HUMAN!”

    Princess looked up at the person in horror, he was bent slightly to look through the window-clearly much taller than her; rippling green muscles exposed to the world to see at all times and barely a loin cloth to cover up whatever monstrosity was there underneath.

    One had chest armor that looked like a car door, and another looked to be wearing chains but otherwise-they were all mostly naked and all pretty heavily armed by the looks of it. “DIE!!!” Princess didn’t need an invitation to dive down to avoid the gunshots that pecked the back wall of the red rocket. Dogmeat barking became panicked-reminding her she couldn’t keep the fight inside-he could die!

    She could die too though, she thought fearfully, scrambling to the back door-she didn’t have any weapons right now; all of them were in Dude’s workshop on the other side but the gunfire was chasing her from it.

    No armor. No weapon. No hope in hell. No. No. Don’t think like that-remember what they all used to say.

    “We’ll make it home Princess, we’ll slaughter these damn commies! Just hang in alittle longer girl!”

    “Sir, we’ve been cornered here for four days!”

    “And we’ve survived that long?! We can do one more hour, hell! ONE MORE WEEK! We’ll show them Red’s what American Soldiers are made off!”

Princess shook her head, and landed flat on her belly when the wall exploded above her and the first aid came clattering down hard next to her head; spilling open and scattering a couple stims and a psycho.

    She hesitated, and she heard the heavy steps moving around. “COME OUT HUMAN! ARE YOU SCARED?!” Princess scooped the chems from the floor, and ran outside-to keep them from ruining her house any further.

Princess yelped when the man back handed her, sending her tumbling into the Nuka Cola Machine, knocking it over from the impact. Her head began to swim again, vision blurring into something else-the green skin becoming pale power armor.

The snow began biting her, making her injuries hurt worse. Princess looked around, this couldn't be right? This...No...this wasn't home. This was Anchorage . A gun was pointed at her, and she didn't have any more time to decide , jabbing the chems into her arm-she jerked in pain as the psycho was carried with the adrenaline; the gunshot grazing her shoulder didn't even phase her.

It’s been years-since she felt this rush .

Princess didn’t hesitate this time, leaping towards the Commie, snarling, enraged and tweaked beyond comprehension. He'd killed her brothers at arms, he stole her power armor-damn Chinese bastard! But he wasn't alone, four other reds began firing at her as she pounded into the lens of the helmet, not stopping till she heard something crack under her bloodying knuckles.

The Power Armor grabbed her arm and flung her, through the air; unable to change course from hitting something, which she didn't bother to check as she rolled out of the way of a Chinese sword. Punching towards the wrists of the weapon’s wielder, listening to him make a weird howling noise with gleeful abandon-taking the sword and attacking him in return. “Die you bastard! Just fucking die!”

One. Finishing Off the First. Three. Slicing into the Fourth.

They'll all pay. They will all pay .

Princess drove the sword into the commie’s shoulder, listening to him shriek in pain before the wind was knocked out of her, feeling a couple ribs break as a result of whatever hit her. Tumbling back, she landed on her side-trying not to puke.

Her hand was digging into the sparse grass, making her blink, ripping up a bit of the grass up; only to let it go when a heavy foot planted on her side and started crushing her.

“Aiyeeeeeeee!” Princess cried, with as much muster as she could with her depleting oxygen supply.

She didn't want to die, not here, not like this. Reaching out with one hand, trying to grab the weapon she had been using which turned out to just be a board with nails decorating one end.

“ Stop playing with your food !”

Just a few more inches...almost got it…

“Miss Princess!” Codsworth shouted, “Hang in there!” Sturges added, the one that had just yelled at the green man was bathed in flames and being hacked at by her robo-butler and Sturges peppered the one on her with .38 rounds. The already injured attackers didn't last long

“Damn glad we showed when we did, aren't ya?” The Grease Monkey laughed, “Truth is, if ya robot hadn't said he was worried we probably wouldn't co-”

Princess whimpered as she tried to get up, interrupting him and causing him to hurry over. “Damn girl! Easy! Lemme get ya a stimpack!” He jabbed her, and helped to bed quickly as the wounds started to heal.

“No…” She tried to stop him, “Got to...clean...clean...up.” He looked at her, “Nonsense! Ya need ya rest!” Codsworth drifted to the Windows, as Dogmeat stumbled out of the bedroom. “Miss Princess-leave the cleaning to me! And I'm sure Mister Sturges would be willing to repair the shutters on your behalf after such a…a...uh.” The Robot was looking for words but the pause frightened her a little. “Hey wait, I didn't-”

Horrifying. Violent. Animalistic .

Princess began to cry, reminding her of her aching ribs-making her cries sound broken up. “Ah...damn. Yeah, course I'll help. But ya gotta lay down while we do it; alright?” Dogmeat barked, licking her hand, his fur was a bit bloody but he seemed fine now. Good . “Help...Dogmeat please…” She requested, but in all the fussing, Princess didn't think she was heard.

She didn't remember much after that, hazy as the drugs began to wear away.

Back in the present moment…

“I...I…” Princess had fat tears starting to form. Dude was silent, stoic-but she knew better-he was upset with her. God, she hated how upset he was, how disappointed he was; would he leave because of this?

“Dude...I was so scared…” He rubbed the bridge of his nose, stood, not looking at her and left the room without a word. “Dude...Dude…?” Princess whimpered, and hung her head. “Come back…”

Chapter Text

“...Can you hand me the carrots Preston?” Princess looked up at the minuteman, extending a hand-he passed them without pausing. “Ma’am, can I ask you something?” She looked at her task(cutting up the vegetables) but nodded; “Ask away.”

“What did you both do before the bombs fell? You don't have to-”

“Answer? Why wouldn't I?” She felt her knife cut her finger, and reached for a dishrag to keep the blood from going everywhere. “I was trying to be a lawyer...before I had my son,I had just gotten my degree before he was expected.” He looked at her, a little puzzled-”What?” She questioned, “Oh, I was trying to remember what a lawyer was...I think I've heard about it…”

“Oh...yeah, the Wasteland doesn't really have those does it…?” He answered her question with a bob of his head. “Well, erm...how to put it…” She thought about it for a moment, squeezing the cloth around her finger a little harder. “Sometimes, when people broke the rules-the wrong people would get blamed for it...it would have been my job to keep them from going to jail.”

She sighed, she never got to try her hand in the courts, the world ended first. But at least it didn't freeze over like all her fellow classmates joked about…

“I see. Did it normally work?” Preston leaned on the counter, watching her clean up her hand; “Yes, most of the time...but occasionally it didn’t always...it’s part of the reason Dude hasn’t set up the same sorta rules...makes things simpler.” Princess hummed a bit, turning the radio’s volume up carefully-as she didn’t want to blow the speakers out. Garvey spoke again, voicing yet another question as the song began to play. “Do you miss before the war?”

    “ I don’t want to set the world on fire~”

“...I miss a lot of things…’bout home...I suppose.” Princess looked quietly to the cut on her hand, no longer bleeding but the slit in the skin was still rather visible. “...But I don’t think I would want to go back, to how it was...it wasn’t as great as the ruins show...I mean...sure...a lot of things were...when you look at it now...but people went hungry a lot, even more than now...the fighting...a lot more violent ...bigger guns...the world was dying .”

“I've lost all ambition for worldly acclaim…”

    “I guess I have silly reasons for not going back though.”

    “What’s that, Ma’am?”

    Princess huffed, putting the cut up greens into the already bubbling stew pot. “I’ve told you Preston, you can just call me Princess....” Princess stared out the window for a brief moment, staring out at the ruined town of Concord just down the hill. “...Because I’m not expected to be someone I’m not by everyone else but Dude, I was supposed to be…”

    She could feel Garvey looking at her strangely, but she decided she wasn’t going to elaborate further. The aristocratic heir to a rather prominent family, at lot was expected of her at one point-then she met Dude and she didn’t have to worry about it anymore, because she was happy...so very happy.

    “... In my heart I have but one desire …”

She poked the small fire being used to cook the food. “...Try some?” Princess watched the man practically hop off the counter as if he were sitting on a rabid mole rat.

“Er…” Garvey tried to think up an excuse-recalling what he considered a rather horrifying experience-watching Dogmeat back away whining from a plate of her cooking; and how concerned he was for the General at the time.
“I just want to start a flame in your heart~…”

She felt offended, holding the spoon up expectantly for him to taste test her latest attempt at cooking-and without an argument to spare, the Minuteman obliged; as if she was twisting his arm back while he did it. Though pleasantly, he seemed surprised and her ire for the moment was diverted back to happiness. “How’s it taste?”

    “...I...I mean it’s a little...watery...but...erm..maybe some more meat…?”

Princess looked to the pot, wiggling her nose a bit, before setting to work with an uncommon focus-adding a bit more mirelurk meat to the pot. “...Do you think he’ll like it…?” She asked with a wistful smile a few minutes later and offered a spoon to Preston once again. He didn’t hesitate as hard this time, “Well…”

“It’s not half bad-I mean...I think it’s pretty good…” He replied, and her face lit up with excitement: “Good….good...well...I won’t keep you any longer Preston, better go help Dude at Sanctuary.”

“You sure you’ll be okay…?”

“Of course, as long as Dude is alright. I’m perfectly fine.”  

Chapter Text

“Boston looks pretty messed up..” Princess covered her eyes against the setting sun, other hand holding her hat down as the breeze picked up. Dude was making her a new weapon, she wasn't allowed to look because it was supposed to be a surprise.

“That is what happens after nuclear detonation Dear.” He hummed, the last shifting of metal dragging on something followed after. “There, all finished.” Princess turned around to the presented a bat, wrapped in heavy chain link, secured very tightly-the pretty pink color made her smile. “Ooo~”

Princess held it aside, and gave him a hug along with a huge kiss on the chick. “Thank you dear~ I love it!” She gave a few wild swings and put it on her back; ready to be used. “Shall we than?” Her husband asked, proceeding ahead to the fire escape with a eased gait.

Princess admired him as he moved, smooth and graceful as a panther; the light silhouetting him like an angel; god she loved him. “Come Princess.” His words snapped her out of the daze, to which she laughed-exclaiming as she skipped after him. “Yes! Off to Diamond City!” Scrambling down the stairs off the old C.I.T Ruins, to cross the river further into Boston.

Princess and Dude meandered through the ruins of the city, fighting as they went whatever got in their way; Ghouls, Super Mutants, Raiders or the various creatures of the wasteland-didn't delay them horribly long. Between Princess’s brawn and Dude’s finesse, the sun was just barely starting it’s descent when they finally caught up to Dogmeat and Preston Garvey again.

            “Come on Dogmeat! We’re almost there-right, Mr. Garvey?” Princess questioned, teetering off balance for a moment, saved only by Dude’s quick catch, spinning her around with a twirl bending her back to give her a suave kiss. While she giggled, Dude looked away from her, “Well, I do expect an answer for her?”

            Garvey cleared his throat, “Yes General, we just passed nearby the Backstreet Apparel building, so it should be just another hour at the most.” Princess was balanced once more by her husband. “Good.” Dude replied, giving her hand a gentle kiss. “Onward than.” Dogmeat barked, trotting off ahead, Garvey walked ahead uncomfortably with him. Princess set her gaze on Dude again, “...Hey, Darling.”

            “Yes, my Dear?”

            “I love you.” Princess smiled softly, warmed by his gentle smile that made her want to dance with joy. “And I, you.” He reached a hand to her cheek, there was a moment of silence, Dogmeat barked in the distance, Garvey saying something but he was just too far away for it to be clear. Princess’s went to say something else, when someone’s shouting caught her attention.

“Please! Please help! I don’t want to die!”

“Shut your mouth! Or I swear I’ll shut it for you!”

Princess gave Dude a sideways glance, before running ahead after the sound-Dude would be along shortly after her. Upon arriving on the scene, she froze at the sight of the perfectly identical men. “Now, what is this ruckus about..?” Dude questioned calmly, putting his hands behind his back, holding the 10 mm at the ready.

            “Please you’ve got to help me! This man’s a synth-he’s gonna kill me and replace me and my family...oh god, my kids…” The man on his knees started, the one holding the shotgun snapped. “Don’t you dare bring them into this! He’s the synth and he want’s to replace me!”

            Princess didn’t know what to do, they looked exactly the same-what the bloody hell is a Synth?! Some kind of monster they hadn’t encountered yet?!

            “Please! You’ve gotta believe me! You can’t let this thing do this!”

Dude let out a small chuckle, “I don’t have to do anything. But if you can convince my wife why we should-I’d be more than happy to help.” Princess looked at him, he did this before-whatever decision she makes; he would accept it with a good enough reason.

            “A-alright...Can you tell me...what happened?” Princess questioned the one holding the gun, holding her hands up slightly and half stepping towards him. “How this-” He huffed, and then glared holes into his double. “I was on the way to Bunker Hill, when I came around a bend and I see this guy! ME! Gun up and ready to shoot!”

            His gripped tightened on the gun, “We scuffled for a while, but I won. Now, don’t know how else I’ll be able to convince you-but he’s the synth.” He seemed so sure of himself, it made Princess mildly uneasy. Glancing at the other on his knees, something made her feel even more uncomfortable. “Now, are you going to get out of my way?”

            How was she supposed to deal with this? If there was fake people...who looked exactly like real people? How was she going to tell…

            Princess looked at Dude, and stepped out of the way, closing her eyes tight. “Wait-?! NO!” The gunshot made her jump right to Dude’s embrace, she didn’t turn around when she heard the man speak. “...It’s done...god...I’m still shaking…I’ve gotta get out of her” Dude rubbed her back as she tried not to cry.

            “Well, get.” Dude said, “You’ve made my wife upset, I’ve got half the mind to finish what he started.” There was a gasp, and she gripped his shirt tightly, not letting go until the scrambling footsteps got out of hearing range. “Alright. I’m going to see what he was talking about.” Dude gently moved her aside, and knelt by the sprawled corpse of the man claimed to be a Synth.

            He put ammo in his bag with not a moment's hesitation, he was dead, he didn’t need it; while Princess stood back, waiting anxiously if her choice had been the right one with tears forming. Dogmeat’s bark startled her, running up beside her and licking her hand happily-Garvey right behind him. “Next time, let me know that you two are side tracking, I almost got to Diamond City before I realized you both weren’t behind us.” He complained.

            “...Erm…” Preston looked at Dude concerned when he didn’t respond. “General?”

“So, Garvey, what do you make of this?” Dude raised his bloodied up hand, holding a piece of electronics. Preston Garvey stepped forward, squinting at little at it. “Some robotics-wait-did that come out of him?” The Minuteman sounded startled, and Princess felt a weight lift off her back.

            She’d been right.

“So...he was a fake person?” Princess whispered, and Dude nodded, looking at the part with curiosity. “It would appear so, Princess.” Then he looked at Garvey again, “So what is a Synth?” Garvey gazed up at the sky, “Well, from what I gathered-Synthetic Humans. Made by the boogie man of the Commonwealth-the Institute. So I guess, yeah, Ma’am, a fake person.”

            Dude pocketed the component, and stepped up beside Garvey, a crack of thunder ringing out across the sky. “Damn, if we don’t want to get soaked-we’ll need to find some cover.”

Within a few minutes, rain began blanketing the ground-heavy, warm rain that began to lightly irradiate everything. The four of them almost hadn't made it into a ruined building, barely keeping the rain out itself; though thankfully they found a dry space for now.

Dude and Preston began talking about plans for the weeks ahead, for Sanctuary and a place called the Castle. He had such plans for the Wasteland, wonderful plans; farming and training for the settlers.

Dogmeat laid next to her, chewing on a teddy bear enthusiastically, while she gazed outside at the pouring rain. It was beautiful, even though she knew the two of them could get very sick to it-they weren't quite used to all the rads that were everywhere-if they didn't scavenge as much radaway as they did-they'd probably be puking their toenails.

For someone like Garvey, it would just give him a nasty cold. Did Synths get sick too? They obviously bled, she saw the pool of blood coming from the gunshot wound, she wondered if rads could hurt them as well?

The rain didn't look like it was easing up anytime soon, so the boys began to set up a makeshift fire for the time being; from what Preston said-it was going to be a long day.

Chapter Text

“She seems nice~” Princess admitted to Dude as they stepped into the old baseball field; watching their new friend, Piper walk to the first building on the left which was labeled with the shanty neon sign- Publick Occurrences . Dogmeat bolted ahead into the familiar territory-with Princess laughing after the canine companion. “Dogmeat come back!” After all the fuss at the door, he half expected Piper to be dragged back out.

    Dude didn’t immediately follow, taking in the part of Diamond City he could see at the entrance- squalor disguised as luxury , lights taking up almost every roof in sight to fight the darkness outside it’s tall walls-crowded spaces-people shouting their wares just down the path.

    Preston’s voice intruded on his thoughts. “Mayor McDonough has always been against the Minutemen…” Dude raised an eyebrow slightly, as Preston continued to speak. “...Never quite understood why.”

    That was a bit peculiar, seeing as any help,  especially an ensemble of altruistic arms-men,  would have been appreciated by a settlement. Than again, the Minutemen could be seen as overglorified mercs, and pacifist raiders to the people of the Commonwealth,  though Princess and Dude had been getting positive feed back by their return.

    “Well, Preston, you are dismissed for the time being-head onto the Castle, I’ll meet you there to take it back in a few days.”

The Minuteman looked at him, “Yes General.” He saluted, and exited the way they came.

“Now, where have you run off to Princess?” Dude mused, and sauntered forth; listening to the sounds of a dog barking and his wife’s voice. Though it didn’t take long to find the two, Dogmeat sat, wagging his tail proudly under the pale rose colored light of ‘ Valentine’s Detective Agency ’. Princess stared at the sign, looking anxious.

    Standing tall, but tapping her foot as she looked towards the door.  She was thinking, likely about what to say to the Detective, however the very thought of it seemed to be bothering her worse by the second.

“Dear, why don’t you go bother Piper for a bit? I believe she wanted to speak to one of us, right?”

    Princess was a bit startled by his address, indicating she was deeper in thought than originally anticipated; but as she processed it-she nodded. “That sounds good...What should I do afterwards  love?”

Dude shrugged, “You could always go see what that signal was near Cambridge-otherwise, just head home.”

She smiled gently, before leaning over for a kiss-he didn’t move away, allowing her kiss to land on his cheek before she skipped away. Dogmeat looked after her, but didn’t follow-which was strange, the creature seemed to follow Princess every where like she was the reason it breathed. “What Dogmeat?”

    Dude looked as he trotted down the small hall to the door, pawing at it until he opened the door and wandered on inside. Dude followed and met Miss Ellie Perkins-and soon discovered the Agency’s predicament, the Detective was missing. His face remained calm and unmoved from its usual pleasantry, but he needed the information of where he was to actually try and find him-so he listened to her drama for a moment before informing her that he would find her boss.

“Of course.” He thought as he left, “So a Vault huh, well, let's see what other creative bull shit Vault-Tec came up with…

Dude with Dogmeat right along side him, had ripped through the punks, ghouls and other assorted critters that lingered in the subway and it's poorly sheltered vault.  Dogmeat chewing on someone's boot while he stopped for a moment-to read from a terminal.

Put the rich and luxurious in as minimal and poor conditions as possible…

“And then they put a hobo in charge who has a problem with authority…. fantastic. ” Dude quietly hissed, Dogmeat looked up as he pushed away from it-regaining his cool composure and continuing his way into the Vault.  “I bet the people who came up with the experimental parameters were just delightful at parties.” He said to no one in particular-though Dogmeat let out an affirmative bark in response. Dude brought his gaze up at the balcony above in the atrium they walked into to the single man who had been sneering at someone who happened to be out of sight for the moment.

Had -he looked a little surprised when he turned around.  

    “Who the fuck are you?” He yelled, leaning over the balcony with his submachine gun lifted-and with a charismatic grin, drawing out his gun; Dude said. “Hi-I have a package-” Blam .

“Son-of a bitch!” The man jumped to the side, only to be greeted by the bull rushing german shepard who’d been racing ahead in excitement.

“-for Mr. Valentine, is he in?” Dude peppered this thug as he walked up to the man who was presently being mauled by the dog. He only picked up a little more speed when he heard the creature yelp-Princess would be horribly upset if Dogmeat dies-she absolutely seemed to adore the thing.

    Though, the man finally managed to put his finger on the trigger, his aim was sorely suffering from his nearly broken arm; blood dribbling on the tile as he struggled to keep steady aim. Dude’s smile remained even as bullet holes haloed the wall and doorway behind him-before he finished the lowlife off.

“Waste of bullets.” He said, stepping in front of the Overseer’s window-about to kneel down to search the fool’s pockets when the person that had been taunting the poor-shot hollered. “I don’t know who you are-but it’ll only take three minutes for them to realize muscle-for-brains ain't coming back!”   

The one he assumed was Nick Valentine was backlit-making it hard to actually see what he looked like; but he did notice the odd colored eyes that glowed in the shadow.  “So you should get this door open!” Dude noted it, but rolled his eyes at the demand; finishing the original task of rifling through the dead man’s pockets. Ammo and an piece of paper labeled “ Overeer’s Terminal Password ”, he took the next couple steps to push the keys into the door’s terminal and waited for the doors to slide open.

Dogmeat trotted inside and sat down in front of the Detective, who lit a cigarette with a wire frame hand.  “Ah-my knight in shining armor.” The Robotic Individual said, taking a long drag before continuing. “But the question is-why come all this way, risking life and limb for an old private eye?”

Dude’s smile became a devilish smirk, “Well, fair damsel-the knight needs a hound, though the princess normally doesn’t get the cigarette till after we’re finished.” Nick coughed a bit, trying not to choke while Dude kept going-”But I’m certainly surprised, I wasn’t expecting a synth.”

“I’m a detective , I know it’s not exactly comforting to see-” Nick started.

Dude interrupted what sound like a well worn speech, “Doesn’t bother me any. I suppose you’d rather talk about potential work at your office though?”

“You read my mind, still want to know why you came all this way.” He said, tossing the cig aside and petting Dogmeat-before the three of them started their way back out. “My son was kidnapped, my wife nigh murdered in the process-I need to find the body responsible.”

“Kidnapping, huh?” He mused a moment before explaining how he got stuck locked in the office by the gang. Apparently some floozy that it was originally thought was kidnapped- had run away with the Gang’s leader-and supposedly showed quite the “mean streak.”

Dude was a little unimpressed, to say the least by this information but he would withhold judgement for time being. “But you got troubles, so let’s blow this joint-and we’ll talk business back at Diamond City.”

Nick explained about Skinny Malone-the supposed leader of this little rat hole, how he and his men were chased out of a placed called Goodneighbor, blah blah,  etc., etc. Honestly, people couldn’t be more predictable in these things than termites, if this was what the underground was like,  then he’ll have to burn it all out before starting over.

Valentine proved his usefulness though, he wasn’t a bad shot-and the first idiot to run at him with a bat got pistol whipped so hard he spun,  could crack locks he found out when they came across more than one door with some ‘ maintenance ’ issues. “Get in this sort of trouble often?” Dude questioned, taking a roll of duct tape from the dog’s mouth as they walked through unoccupied section-

“More often than I’d like. You?...I don’t think you ever said your name.”

“You had yet ask, Mr. Valentine. The name is…  Dude Pendleton.” He answered, stopping when Nick found another locked door; leaning to toy with the mechanism. “This one shouldn’t take to long, but careful-I hear fat feet on the other side of the door, so get ready for anything.”

Dude nodded, and when the three of them stepped through-the overweight gangsta yelled at the Detective immediately. “NICKY! What’ya doing? You come into my house and shot up all my guys-you realize how far this is gonna set me back?”

Dude smirked very slightly at Nick’s retort, hand on Dogmeat’s head, feeling the growl traveling up his arm. “I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for your two-timing dame, Skinny. She ought’a write home more often.”

The woman in a sequin dress, held a bat, sneered viciously at Valentine- “Awww~poor little Valentine...ashamed ya got beat up by a girl?!” She showed off her teeth like an angry cat, incredibly unattractive-Dude thought as he tapped his foot lightly with a bit of impatience- “I’ll just run home to daddy, shall I?”

“Should’a left it alone Nicky, this ain’t the old Neighborhood-here-I’m king of the castle , you hear me?” The Leader pointed a fat finger at him, “And I’m not gonna let some private dick ruin a good thing when I just got it goin’!” His crazy cat hissed next to him, “I told ya we should’ve killed him! But then you had to get all sentimental -go on about the stupid ‘old times’!”

This was just boring, listening to these dysfunctional lovers fuss- him trying to defend his obviously lack of balls, her all fired up and pissed like an angry mole rat.

    “Than what about this guy, huh? Nick must have brought him here to rub us all out!”

“Oh, am I finally being addressed? I never thought I would get a word in edgewise.” Dude looked at her, “Diana-no, sorry , Darla , why don’t you run along home before you spend all those pretty years on these maggots, hmm?” The woman looked startled, “Wh-what?!”

    “Honestly, it looks like you spent a few months down here, and you already look pretty rough. You should just go back home to daddy, before for something bad happens.” Darla’s face paled, looking between Dude and Malone, “Y-you're right. I-I’ve gotten all mixed up!” She took a few steps back, heels clicking on the floor pretty loudly.

“Darla-wh-where are you goin’?!” Skinny Malone looked rather devastated, “Home Skinny! Where I should’a been-” Then she bolted, dropping the bat along the way in her haste. Skinny looked pretty mad- “It wasn’t enough for you two to come and shoot up all my guys?! You had to take away my girl too?!”

“My friend here did you a favor Skinny, you always had bad taste in women.” Nick said without hesitating. “Now with her not here fuelling that temper of yours, maybe you’ll see sense and let us walk? You kinda owe me after two weeks in the hole.”

Dude started to open his mouth again, only to hear reason pour out of the thug’s mouth. “You smug, overconfident ass!” He stomped his foot, stepping out from in front of the walk way out of the vault.  “You got until the count of ten! If I still see your damn faces at one! I gun you both down!”

Dude tapped the top of Dogmeat’s head and he stopped growling, prancing on by alongside Nick and himself; “Pleasure doing business Malone.”

He only smiled at the man as he swore during his exit-and the three made it up to the surface without a problem as Dude had cleared the pests out earlier on his way in.

“Ah, look at that sky…” Nick said once Dude had hauled that damn dog up the ladder, he had almost decided to go the whole way back the way they originally came. “Never thought something so ominous would look so inviting.”

Dude stared at the sky, thinking back on how it had been rather late when the two of them had finally arrived at Diamond City, but it appeared to be approaching dawn now-had it really took that long?

Maybe being a popsicle had damaged his sense of time? Perhaps other things too… “Thanks for getting me out of there, but I gotta ask-how’d you know where to find me? Not a lotta people knew where I went?” Nick questioned.

Dude looked at him, then said, “The lovely young lady in your office...Ellie, right?”

The Detective looked relieved, “She did? I should give her a raise.”

    “Should.” Dude agreed, Nick nodded and then spoke again. “You said you needed help finding your son, so let’s get to my office-we can talk about all the details there.”

Chapter Text

Princess spent her time with Piper, and ultimately, like all press types-she twisted her words and found themselves at a disagreement shortly.  

The flustered Princess made her way out of the stadium, taking to smashing a couple trash cans she found in the first street she raged through…  And a few unfortunate raiders found themselves under her boot rather quickly as well.

When finally she'd calm down enough, she plopped down at a bus stop-staring at the thinning buildings and the broken freeways.  Just a blink ago; her family were driven on those.. just a blink ago . Princess sighed, sadly and sat forward to stare at her feet-then eventually her pip-boy.  “Where was that signal…” She said to herself, finally tuning it to that signal Dude had spoken about-listening to a young woman’s voice-calling herself, ‘Scribe Haylen.’ Princess recognized the somewhat military tone to her voice, and style of distress call-it wasn’t the United States Military, but it was somebody that needed help.

    “Cambridge Police Station-that shouldn’t be too far? Right?”

Not terribly, but she still had a bit of Boston to walk to get there; thankfully she was wearing walking shoes instead of heels on this last bit of exploring to Diamond City-she’d learned her lesson through Concord-if you’re going walking for awhile, tennis shoes or boots were the best choice of foot gear.

Still liked changing back into them once she got home.

“...I wonder when we’ll be getting home this time? We don’t got cars…” She hummed, balancing on the edge of the sidewalk and looked up at the morning sky, “...I wonder...if Dude’s doing alright… bah! He’s fine, Dude is always fine. So I shouldn’t worry.”

She looked up at the sound of a brahmin mooing at her, and she waved to the trader, who was watching Princess nervously-gun half lifted. “Hi-ya~do you know how far Cambridge is from here?”

“Uh-” He started, “Only bout an hour that’a way if ya run...I hurried on past myself last night...heard a lotta gunfire.”

Princess jerked, “Oh! That’s right-damn it! They’re in trouble. Thanks!”

    Her day dreams sometimes got her into a lot of trouble, forgetting the task at hand-hopefully the people calling for help were alright.

Well when she arrived, she certainly didn't expect such a welcome when she ran up the road to College Square-the mines scattered across the road-the first one she set off sent her tumbling back down with right onto her backside.

    The tumble saved her from a claw strike though; Princess had the pleasure of watching the ghoul fly over her, following it’s path of flight with her eyes, she found she had just enough time to cover her face from the next mine to go off.

Princess really hated ghoul gore, “Ewww!” She yelled, getting back on her feet to do a somersault right out of the way of yet another ghoul attack...or the attempt of one, the things were clumsy and easy to escape as long as it was one at a time.

    Mines, ghouls and plenty of traps littered College Square-the only reason she found a lot of them was because she got spun around more than once-which was completely frustrating to her, resulting in her taking her building anger out on any enemies to present themselves.

By the time she arrived at the Police Station, she was covered in quite a bit of blood and mud; looking perhaps, a little crazed-leaping into the fray to rescue the individual in power armor blocking the stairs to the station.

Princess was scratched up, and rather gross-in her opinion, probably not the best way to meet new people-but neither is getting someone rather acquainted with a ghouls head at high speed. The Power Armored individual stumbled and planted himself at the base of the steps now, nose bloodied-and the front of his armor splattered to cover whatever the insignia was.

    When the fight was all over, she turned on her heel to face the man-who wiped his face off-looking rather annoyed.

“We appreciate the assistance, civilian , but what’s your business here.” He inquired, laser rifle now resting pointed only slightly off from her present location. “...Well. I’m Princess~Princess Pendleton~And I came to help!” She did somewhat of a curtsey; kindly smiling-though it only seemed to make him more suspicious.

    “Are you from a local settlement?” Was his next question, eyes narrowed and drilling holes into her-hard enough to make her feel a bit conscious. “Erm...I’m from Sanctuary...up north….Why are you asking all these questions...I just helped you…?”

“A fair point.”

    “If I appear suspicious, is because our mission here has been difficult-from the moment we arrived in the Commonwealth-we’ve been under constant fire.” He answered, looking up at the other two who were by the door of the Police Station-then back at her. “If you would like to keep pitching in-we can always use an extra set of hands.”

“...I will~if you tell me who you all are?” Princess countered, rocking on her heels, looking up at the power armor expectantly.  “Most people who’ve got power armor these days aren't too friendly to me~so I am kinda curious.”

The man frowned, and thought for a moment. “Very well.” He wiped away the gore that had been splattered on his armor by her a few minutes ago-showing off a set of wings-with a sword rising from it-in the background was three gears.

    “I am Paladin Danse, Brotherhood of Steel.” Danse than pointed to the two up by the stairs, “That’s Scribe Haylen, and the wounded one is Knight Rhys.” Princess nodded, “Okay. What do you need help with...Pal-a-din.”

Danse looked back at her, again with suspicion-he was going to horrible wrinkles in his forehead from all that frowning-Princess thought. “Our mission is currently recon duty, but I’m a man down and our supplies are running low. I’ve been trying to get a distress call to our superiors but the signal is too weak to reach them.”

The woman, Scribe Haylen, stood up and approached the railing to speak to them better. “Sir, if I may?”  

“Proceed Haylen.”

“I’ve modified the radio tower that’s on the roof of the police station; but I’m afraid it just isn’t enough-what we need is something to boost the signal.” Haylen prompted Paladin Danse to continue, “Our target is ArcJet Systems, an old world company that contains the technology we need-The Deep Range Transmitter.”

    “We’ll need to infiltrate the facility, secure it, and bring it back here.”

Princess nodded again, she’d unconsciously stood straighter in this briefing, holding her bat behind her back.  “So what do you say? Are you willing to lend the Brotherhood of Steel a hand?”

“Yes Sir.” She nodded again, then bounced a bit- “Lead the way Danse!”

    “Call me Paladin Danse, I need to resupply for the mission, you are more than welcome to take some yourself for helping.” Danse turned and walked up the steps, “Haylen, takes Rhys inside and bind his wounds.”

    “Yes sir!”

“Rhys, once you’re on your feet-I want you to make certain the perimeter is secure.”

“I’m on it.” Rhys said through clenched teeth.

The Paladin turned to her again, “Alright, civilian-time to prove your worth. Once you’re done resupplying, let me know when you’re ready to move out.” And without any more fuss, the three of them headed into the police station with Princess right behind them.

    Haylen helped their injured comrade to a mattress and set to work; he was pretty angrily glaring at Princess the whole time-fussing like a baby as she started cleaning up the wound.  Supplies littered across the counter right in front-so it didn’t take her long to take what she needed; and a few extra bits of scrap they didn’t seem to use.

    Danse himself collected a dozen or so fusion cells for his rifle and a couple stims-not much more than herself.  “Ready to go civ-”

    “Princess. My name is Princess.” Princess stated with a rather passive aggressive tone. “If you want me to call you by your...title…rank? Than you should call me by my name, Kay?”

The Paladin was frowning, again -it must be a hobby of his being so suspicious. “Your name is really, Princess?” Haylen asked from beside the mattress. “Ya-huh. It was on my birth certificate.”

The three of them looked confused briefly, Haylen was the one to ask though. “Your settlement records a...census…?”

Princess blinked a few times, “...Oh! People lists. No-but…” She lifted her pip-boy and tapped something on it-leaving a note for herself to tell Dude about the idea later.

“Well-let's get going, Paladin Danse.” Princess skipped back to the door-leaving them bewildered for a moment. “Ad Victorium.” He saluted, pounding his fist against the armor before following her.

    “What does that mean?” Princess asked as they started off, and the first pleasant sounding thing came out of his mouth for the first time since they met.

        “ To Victory. ”

The walk to ArcJet wasn’t long, occasionally stopped by a wasteland creature or two, and a batch of raiders that’d just taken the life of a poor trader and their brahmin. There wasn’t even a word exchanged between the both of them-it was just open fire, leaving Princess with a few more nicks and burns.

    Noted -Princess thought- Raiders shoot at Brotherhood of Steel on sight; I’ll tell Dude when I see him next.

The two of them had made good time though, the sun hadn’t even risen above most of the trees when the Paladin spoke, motioning to the building up the hill from them. “There it is, ArcJet Systems. There shouldn’t be any exterior security-so we can just head in through the front.”    

    The building barely held together, many windows busted-it’s facade peeling away from time; the fences missing in most of its property and nature growing up around the old trailers that had been parked there the day the bombs dropped.

There was something eerie about it, the pre-war building and it’s still intact sign; and as they entered the lobby, Danse spoke in a rancorous tone. “It was corporation's like this that put the last nail in mankind’s coffin.”

    “They exploited technology for their own personal gain-pocketing the cash and ignoring the effects of what they’d done.” He sounded so sure of his opinion on this-and Princess nodded slightly; she knew this, she’d survived it-but she still held some small hope that they all weren’t like that.  

    That some were still trying to help.

Princess ended up tripping on a Protectron arm, running right into the back of Paladin Danse; as she recovered, embarrassed, he kicked a piece aside. “Look at these wrecks, it appears the facility’s automated defense has already been dealt with.”

Princess knelt by the nearest damaged robot- “I suppose that’s good, right? Mean’s there is less to deal with inside…”

    “....But it means somebody else beat us here too.”

“Not a single casing, or drop of blood in sight.” He carried on, agreeing with her as he looked around. Princess ran her hand over the laser burn, laser weapons were uncommon, maybe one pistol or rifle to a raider gang-the ammo was hard to find and the weapons were even harder to maintain without the proper know-how.

    “These robots were assaulted by Institute Synths .” Danse deduced-a mild hiss in his voice, to which Princess responded with a small squeak. “The….the fake people?” After a second, he confirmed her fears with a nod. “Yes-abominations of technology that need to be destroyed, every single one of them.”

Princess didn’t say anything to that, they were scary, looking exactly like the people around them-or even like someone who already lived around here; it was more scary than the rad-storms that plagued the countryside.

    The two of them wandered further, Danse noting that the Brotherhood should come back and strip the place of salvage-’sweep and retrieve’.

When the Paladin and Princess stepped into a lab, he began looking around- “This looks like a dead end, but let’s look around-see what we can find.” And what he meant by we , he really meant her -she didn’t really appreciate that.

A Locked Terminal, a bunch of junk she put into her satchel, despite him saying that she shouldn’t weigh them down-a few notes from the lab techs that had worked here, talking on a holotape-and finally, the password for the previously mentioned locked terminal.

    She leaned down to type the password in-finding the door control; and promptly opening it. “Nice work, let’s…” Danse started giving praise, then suddenly shouted; causing her to look up to find the terrifying member of the Institute.

    “ Synth Ambush ! LIGHT THEM UP!”

Two started firing at Danse with blue tinted lasers-a third came sprinting out of the room and towards her- she didn’t really get a good look at the others as she over focused on the fact that this Synth that was yelling in a somewhat autotuned voice was nothing like the first one she’d seen-this one, was straight out of a nightmare.

    Thin metal limbs, wires exposed-bright glowing eyes-and all it’s parts revealed to any who looked on it-Princess did what she did best-she broke it with a panicked swing, a couple panicked swings.

“Ohnoohnoohnoohno!” She yelped when the second one surprised her, the tazing shock that made her leg give way from underneath her; wasn’t Paladin Danse shooting at them?! Why did she just get smacked by a second one?!

After being forced to kneel-she started to spin on that knee to pound her fear out on it-but Danse’s rifle fried the back of it’s head before she could land the hit proper, so when it did-it send it toppling head over heels away from her.

    “ THOSE WERE SYNTHS ?!!”

Princess screeched, sitting still as she looked up at Danse-waiting for an answer from him- “I thought you knew what those were?”

“NOOO! I THOUGHT THEY JUST LOOKED LIKE PEOPLE!”

    “Stop yelling!” He snapped, and she quickly fell quiet, replacing the obvious terror on her face to forming tears. “If you can’t handle this! Leave, I’ll finish the mission myself!”

Princess didn’t know how to respond, sniffling as the tears started running down her face.

    “I knew it, you can’t handle being with the Brotherhood-go back to your parents on the f-”

“It’s not my fault I just woke a month ago!” Princess started standing up, her tears were now full of frustration. Danse’s face might have been covered, but his pause was a positive indication of his surprise. “...Come again?”

    Princess wiped her face in the crook of her elbow. “A month ago I was sitting comfortably in my house-raising my baby boy with my husband when the damn bombs dropped! A month ago-I woke up after being shot, and my son stolen away from me!

SO excuse me if I don’t know what to expect in this hell hole!”

    “You’re...Pre-War…? How is that even possible?” He asked, stepping forward, his hand was gripping his rifle tighter as he loomed now.

“The vault...we were frozen…” Princess sniffled, staring at the joints of his power armor.

“...You’re a vault dweller? Well, that explains some of the things you’ve said-and frozen…” Paladin Danse turned again; “Then let's move out. ”

He mulled over the new information, and the two of them didn’t speak for awhile, Princess leading the pace-per protocol-taking her frustration out on her attackers. Danse kept her covered, hanging behind a little to stay out of her swinging range.  

    I wonder what he’s thinking? Does he think I’m lying? Why would I wanna lie about that?- Princess pinned a synth under her knees, it struggled even as she ripped a few important cords from its neck. “ You are damaging, valuable Institute Technology-” It’s eyes darted back and forth, but it didn’t scream, and like that it’s ability to move was gone with a single motion-limbs laying limp; sparks splashed up as the audio of it’s voice glitched. “ S-sy-systems o-off-offline .”

“Good work.” Danse said, stepping on the face of another, crushing it under his metal boots like eggshells. “The next section looks like it doesn’t have power-so watch your step.” Princess nodded as she stood, dusting herself off and then she turned on her pip-boy’s light. The Paladin nodded, taking the lead this time to allow his own light to illuminate the path ahead of them- “Pip-boys are amazing pieces of technology, the Brotherhood hasn’t had much luck with them, most are broken beyond repair or damaged. But we’ve seen what they can do when completely functional.”

    “Really?”

“Yes, Vault Dwellers have helped the Brotherhood before. But they don’t stay.”

“Why?” Princess questioned, watching her footing as they descended down a narrow hallway filled with parts of the walls and ceiling. It wasn’t a great stretch, and they found themselves in a massive room-a huge piece of tech hung from braces.

“Damn, the Field Scribes would have field day with that.”

He didn’t answer her.

Princess didn’t say anything about it though-as he continued on. “...The thing we’re looking for should be at the top of the Core...but it looks like there isn’t even emergency power running, so the elevators are dead.”

    “We’ll have to keep heading down for now, see if the backup systems are there.”

It wasn’t that far down, but the railings and paths creaked and groaned under the weight of the power armor; a part of the railing even gave way as they passed-tumbling down with a large crash.  “Paladin-um…You could survive the fall right?” She asked, “Yes, why do you ask?” He returned with another question. “I probably wouldn’t...so...why don’t you take...the fast way down?” Princess was pretty close to the wall, watching parts bend under his heavy feet.

    “A good idea.”

Then he just stepped off-and she wasn’t sure what was louder, his landing or all the parts that fell shortly after from the shake; but once it was quiet again, Princess had a much easier time finding her way down being far less nervous.

    Once she arrived at the bottom floor, Danse motioned to the side door that lead into what looked like was maintenance; “Scout the maintenance area, see if the power back up is off the main chamber.”

“Yes Sir.” Princess nodded, and sprinted through the tunnel, stepping into what looked like a observation room of some kind-with a set of blast doors hanging open. The room was ruins, with lots of scrap around the surviving consoles and a two well off fusion generators to pick from; her bag was stuffed within a few minutes.

By the time Princess stopped, and activated the power-is about the time the Synths started dropping in on Danse, unbeknownst to her till she stepped back out of that generator room.

Half a dozen synths were firing at Danse at nearly point blank range-the metal of his armor taking the brunt of it no problem-but occupied his attention as three others came running into the observation area.  All wielding batons-Princess barely had enough time to throw her bag at one of them, causing him to trip up and the contents to now fly everywhere, creating multiple tripping hazards.

    With her overfocus, she also didn’t hear the computer talking about the Engine being ready; or that it was waiting for her command. Princess had to remember how to fight off more than one enemy at such close range-she hadn’t had to worry about that so far because someone was always helping her-the last time she had actually had to do that was in the trenches of Alaska.

    So, she got punched, smacked, kicked and tossed around more than she was used too-but at least it wasn’t bullets or lasers hurting her right now.

Three became two, and then two became one-and that one shoved her up against the console, and she felt something shift under her back.

“ Command Accepted. Commencing five second countdown. ”

Princess punched her attacker as hard as she could, bloodying her knuckles on the plastic and metal-snatching the baton from the air when it dropped it, and smacking him a couple times till he stopped moving.

    “ Five. Four. ”

“DANSE!” Princess screamed, hitting the window-he couldn’t hear her over the gunfire...and the engine above that was starting to glow. The blast doors shut.  More synths were dropping down from the upper level, every one he killed, two more arrived. “ Three. ”

    He was going to die! And it was going to be her fault! How was she going to tell his friends about this?! Time begin to slow down, her heart was pounding louder than each and every shot that was fire in such a expanding length of time… “DANSE-!” “ Two. ”

                “ One. ”

“ Engine firing. ” The Computer said, monotone voice dragging out as all she could do was watch. The building whirr turned into a ferocious roar, the heat of the blast made the air waver and she watched the Paladin kneel; armor turning cherry red while the Synths and their corpses turned to ash around him.

    So slow-it felt like it happened for an eternity.

However, time was kind enough to resumed with the click of the blast doors opening and sending a wave of heated air in. “ DANSE !” Princess yelled again, scrambling out of the room to the kneeled set of power armor. “Where’s the switch-” She rambled to herself, running around to the back of it-and without a second thought, yanking the emergency eject switch that was tucked under the back armor.

The Armor opened in a hurry, helmet flying off, whistling as steam escaped it’s joints and pushed itself into an upright position-the Paladin fell out onto his butt and looked up at her with surprise. “Are you alright?! I-I-I’m sorry!” Princess looked him over frantically, before reaching into a pouch on her hip for a stimpack, and tossing it to him. “Use it!”

“How the hell did you know that was there?!” Danse yelled, ignoring the stim as it tumbled pass, “No one outside of Knights and the people who maintain the armor knows that switch is there!”

“You need to use that-being cooked isn’t good for anything!” She grabbed the stim and  was about to shoved it into his hands this time when he bellowed. “Damn it-answer me, Civilian! Or I’ll shoot you where you stand!” Making her flinch in response. Everything got extremely quiet, the soft sizzling of the armor and smell of burnt plastic and earth filled in the silence before Princess answered.

“I only had the power armor manuals to read…for awhile…”

“...Since we only had one suit of armor...We all...my squad...read the manual...during our free time…during my tour of duty...” Her voice fell into the whisper, before she grimaced, tears gushing from her eyes at the sudden realization her hand hurt. Danse looked over her, clearly conflicted-

“It was foolish to do that right after I was cooked.” Princess nodded, crying like a baby now, her hand was burnt and swollen from doing so-and her stomach was getting upset at the smell of BBQ.

“What’s important now, is we’re both still alive-and it looks like we have a way to the transmitter.” Danse got up- “You should use the stim, before you hand gets any worse.” His armor still lightly smoking but he climbed into it anyway while Princess did so. She watched the cut itself disappear and scar but the surface burn didn’t completely go away-which was weird, Stims should help and heal all injuries-but since they woke up…

Princess didn’t continue to dwell on it, “Let me get my stuff okay? I dropped it-” The Paladin nodded, “Just hurry, those synths could have already found the Transmitter, we don’t want them to get away with it.”

It didn’t take the two long, she gathered up the scrap and re-packed her bags; and strapped the Junk Jet and topping out her scavenge for the run. “Why are you taking all that junk? You’ll slow us down.” Danse complained a little, Princess just smiled at him-”It’s for the settlement-Dude fixes things.”

“...Dude?”

“My husband.” Princess squeezed into the elevator after Danse, kneeling down a bit so he could be hunched over and not uncomfortably close.

“ You both...have very strange names. ”

Chapter Text

The Detective and Dude travelled back to Diamond City together, fighting rabid dogs, ghouls-the occasional mole rat pack; and Dude’s first real engagement with the giant green men.

They were brutes. Nothing more than that; but he could see why Princess had trouble on her own with no prior experience-didn’t excuse her slipping though.

Dude clicked the hammer back on the revolver again, and put another round through the mutant’s skull; spraying a mess on the floor. Nick questioned, “Is that really necessary? He’s already dead.”

“Completely.”

Dude didn’t give the slightest hesitation before putting the revolver back into it’s holster, Dogmeat chewing on one of their hands until Dude started moving again. “...So, where’s your gal right now? Most couples who come in looking for their kid...well..come in together.”

Dude thought on it a moment, “Doing something practical and distracting-while I discover the status of our son.”

Nick nodded, “Good enough reason I suppose-but wouldn't she rather hear it first hand?” Dude stared a moment, before responding; “I’d prefer the mental trauma, after all-a bullet is more than most people can take in the first place.”

“That's right, you said the Kidnapper shot her.”

“Correct.” Dude answered as the crossed through the market-in full swing, noise to be reckoned with apparently.

“And, obviously she's still alive-but you make it sound like it would have probably been better if she…” Nick was interrupted:  “No, she's still my wife.” Dude stated without pause, “Long term rehabilitation is expected though.” Nick’s metal hand scratched at his chin.

“Well, let's get inside-see if we can't figure out who or why somebody took your son.” The Neon sign was still bright even in the afternoon sun, shielded by the alleyway it was in-away from the bustle on the other side of the buildings.

Dude and Nick stepped in, “Ellie-I'm back.” The delighted, yet surprised sounding voice of the young woman came from around the corner-shortly followed by the Secretary.

“Nick?” Ellie looked pleased, and looked at Dude, “Thank you, you've saved my job.” He started with his namebrand smile; but she countered and put a bottle cap pouch into his hand.

“I know we hadn't agreed on payment or anything but...take it.”

“Thank you.” Dude nodded, adding it to his bag of caps-which was already frighteningly close to capacity-an upgrade probably was needed.  “So, to business, Detective.”

“Yes, take a seat-Ellie, go ahead and get some paper.” Nick Valentine took a seat and Dude opposite of him, “So, let's start. With kidnappings-every detail counts, so tell me everything you can; no matter how painful it might be.”

Dude went right into it, describing the Vault-the kidnappers, the shooter and his son. Nick and Ellie kept up as best they can; before long though-the Detective started asking questions, Dude would answer them as the came up.

“...You wouldn’t have happened to hear the name, ‘ Kellogg’, did you?”

Dude’s looked blinked, “No, but I did hear their favorite colors, their birthdays and where they hide their diary keys.” Nick’s face was extremely expressive-despite it’s ruined state; it would make him easy to gauge. “It’s why I need your help.”

“Ellie-what do we have on the Kellogg case?”

“The description matches-bald head, scar-rep for dangerous mercenary work. But no one knows who his employer is.” Ellie replied, flipping through some papers, Nick continued- “And he bought a house here in town right? Had a kid with him didn’t he?” She nodded vigorously- “Yeah, a house in the abandoned West Stands-though the boy with him was about ten years old.”

“He’s in town?”

“No, the both of them vanished a while back.” He stood, motioning, “Let’s you and I take a walk over to Kellogg’s last known address-see if we can’t snoop out where he went.” Ellie’s face fell a little, “Security doesn’t really go to that part of town,  but you two should still be careful.”

The walk over wasn’t that long, Dogmeat trotting on ahead as the two talked- mostly about Kellogg, Nick trying to impress upon him how bad news the merc was.

Dude didn't see it that as a problem, mainly-as he imagined all the things he would do to the man for what he did while Nick gave the lock a go. “No good, maybe you can get the key from the Mayor's office.”

“So much for a Detective-can’t pick a little lock.” He snarked, and Nick took a long drag of a cigarette he summoned from some pocket-and lit likely when he wasn't looking. Almost magical .

“Well, if you think you're so good at it, give it a whirl.” Dude moseyed up to it, and promptly wasted a good set of Bobby pins-after the third attempt; he stopped and moved on from the problem with little issue.

Nick said something, however Dude wasn’t listening; he had to go get that key from the closest thing to a politician these days; his first impression was his arguing with Piper, showing no real spine or ability to shed slander.

However, arriving at his office; he found Miss Piper yelling at the blond behind the desk-doing what the press did best; bluster and shout for results- for the truth . A perception, an elusive misconception that they had.

He walked up, “Weren't you and my wife supposed to be keeping company?” He said, interrupting the two of them. Piper turned, a bit surprised to be cut off from her “threatening”, than she looked rather annoyed. “ Blue- ” He found his head tilting slightly, an odd nickname; he’d ask her reasoning for it soon enough.

“Well, I have more important things, excuse me.” He stepped passed the woman, who’s mouth opened up to squawk some more. “I need to see the Mayor.”

“Of course, the Mayor is quite happy to see anyone who isn’t the press.”

The Blond smile, venomously as Piper stood there just behind him; looking furiously at the two of them. Dude just nodded, “Inside then?”

“Yes, just head on in.” She stood, and opened the door for him even-still glancing at the reporter . Piper started yelling at the secretary again as the door shut, insisting it wasn’t fair. The Mayor stood up from his desk, puffing on a cigar- “Ah I remember you, the new arrival.” He offered a hand to shake, which Dude lifted his hand and allowed Mr. McDonough to do so-he continued on, rather enthusiastically as he plopped back down. “If only I could be in your shoes-seeing our glorious city again for the first time!”

He was rather plump , Dude noted-perhaps he had more influence than he initially anticipated. “So how can I help you, Mr…?”

“ Pendleton . And I’m here about house that was rented previously by a man named Kellogg. I need the key.”

“Oh, that-I can't just give out the key to someone's home, even one as detestable as Mr. Kellogg. People value their privacy here-what kind of mayor would I be if I just handed you-”  “That’s a nice window, must be terribly difficult to get good glass nowadays.” Dude casually gazed passed, interrupting; just as nonchalantly. “It would be a tragedy if a rather large and pompous fellow fell through it.”

“Excuse me?!” He sputtered, sitting forward, startled. Dude stood up, “The Key, Mr. McDonough, I wouldn't get in my way when it comes to vengeance.”

Or in general .

After a second, deliberating if he was serious; he pulled from a drawer in his desk- a equally large key ring. It took him a moment to find the key labeled as ‘Kellogg’ but as soon as it was offered, Dude took it and stood in one smooth motion.

“Thank you, Mayor, perhaps we’ll have dealings in the future after all.” Dude smiled at the man, and made his way out. Though someone was waiting for him-Piper was there at the bottom of the lift-”That about your missing person-wasn't it, Blue?”

“You never answered my previous inquiry, Ms. Wright.”

Piper’s mouth opened, yet again, no answer emerged- well, not one he felt like listening too. The excuse was less than exemplementry, so he went on to the next item on the agenda. “What do you know about Kellog, Piper.”

The question made her eyes light up, and she hummed slightly- “Kellog- nasty bastard. Gave me the stink eye a couple times when he’d come down to the market. Definity a merc. But my baby sister said he had a little boy with him.”

“How little?” Dude inquired.

“Probably about her age- she said his name was Shaun.” Piper answered, harmlessly enough- but he seriously doubted she expected his undivided attention. “Oh really, can I talk to your sister?” That look, it actually made her a tad bit nervous, and she hesitated. “I don’t bite- especially children. They have such an undeveloped taste anyhow.”

Piper laughed nervously, “Well- tell you what Blue-” How did she have such a distinctive Boston accent, he found himself distracted briefly before the actual question processed. “Come along than Ms. Wright.” Her face beamed, “And you can talk to Nat afterwards.”

“Perfect.” Dude blandly replied, before-after, he didn’t care either way.

Nick watched them as they approached the walkway, and pushed himself away from the railing once they were back on the same level as he was. Dogmeat barked, greeting the two with a cheerful wag of his tail- Piper apparently hadn’t realized the dog had been in his company in the first place; because she got excited at the sight of him.

And he got excited and bounded over to Piper to give her his normal greeting.

“Wow- most wasteland mutt’s are mean . Not that you’re a mutt- are you...er...boy?” She said as she scratched around his Jangles bandana-glancing between him and Dude briefly hoping that he’d answer. Dude did not.

“Why’d you have to bring her along.” Nick crossed his arms, and Piper stood up. “Oh come on Nicky, it’s not like I haven't helped you in the past.” Dude moved on into the house while they began to squabble- like most of those types do. Detective and Press. Dogs and Cats. And at the moment with no real need to exploit either of them, so he set to work.

Having a head start, going through his things upstairs- he found very few belongings… a bed and a single sleeping bag, a couple spelling blocks- a single car tucked away neatly in a dresser. His fingers ghosted over them briefly, it was honestly a good thing Princess wasn’t along for this endeavour.

“I see you’re already hard at work, we’ll check down here.” Nick called out when the two of them entered- Dude catching a glimpse of something under the desk but before he could press it out of sheer curiosity- Piper pulled something out of the small stove, papers someone had clearly wanted to burn...but they didn’t make sure it’d happen.

“... Got back from a job...this kid was eating a rat...Pretty sure it was still alive .” She read, with a somewhat confused and disgusted face. “It sounds like he might have had more than one kid with him?” Nick attempted to deduce.

“It doesn’t say explicitly.” Dude interrupted, “And currently, there is only one set of toys...and two beds upstairs.”

“So...if this is Shaun- why was he eating a rat?” Piper looked at Dude, and Dude gazed around the shack. It wasn’t sealed tight, a rat could get in, or a boy could easily get out- especially if the door wasn’t locked- there wasn’t any food, or any other storage but the desk and the dresser upstairs...

“ This one isn’t going to…. something... either…”

Piper’s interrupted his thoughts, rudely with another reading- but it seemed like now- Nick might have a point. “More than one...it seems.” Dude mused, before leaning under the desk, and smacking the button-revealing the hideaway.

“That’s one way to hide a room-” Nick mused, almost got shoved out of the way by Piper- to the rather simple side room. A single, extremely comfortable looking chair rested in the middle, with a small table beside it. The shelves had an assortment of necessities and ammunition, and Dogmeat went straight to the side table, standing up on his hind legs and sniffing at the half used cigar that was there.

He barked, and looked at Dude with his tail wagging furiously, and Dude snorted. “...I wonder, should have I bothered to hire you at all Mr. Valentine? When my mutt here seems to have a lead.”

“Well, without me you wouldn’t have known where Kellogg lived. And Dogmeat can’t tell you that these are San Francisco Sunlights.”

“How is that useful?” Dude looked at him, unamused. “They won’t, not on their own at least.” Than he motioned to Dogmeat, who barked in acknowledgement. “But you’ve got yourself a Commonwealth Mutt-they can track a man’s scent for miles. Should let him have a wiff-see if he get’s anything.”

He nodded, picking the cigar up, and preparing to head outside with him. But Nick interrupted- “Before you head out...I know this is personal business. So if you wanna face Kellogg alone, just say so.”

“Besides.” He added, “Looks like you’ve got plenty of company, can’t all go sniffing around the Commonwealth after one man.”

Dude debating asking, why not? But it was a waste of time, this man- this bastard Kellogg, could be miles away now. Piper was busy snooping, though she looked up when he whistled slightly. “Are you coming, or going?”

The Reporter hesitated, those partially burnt papers were still in her hand- chewing her lip a long moment. “I think I’ll stay, see what I can see with these papers Blue. Ask around and see who else remembers stuff bout Kellogg and the boy.”

“ Thank you, and come along than, Mr. Valentine. You have a fee to earn .”

Chapter Text

Dude and Nick followed the mutt up to the old Fort Hagen, fences torn down by nature or scavengers(which wasn’t very clear)- but it didn’t really matter as they crossed the grounds. Plenty of places looked wrecked by time, but the small community that Fort Hagen had, seemed particularly screwed over.

Their had definitely been some fighting here, after the bombs dropped, though there wasn’t a suit of ruined power armor, or tank in sight. It was curious, but he would have to look into it later, if at all.  However, the search stopped at the blocked off door, of the front of the main building; Dogmeat standing on his hind legs to sniff at the wood and cinder blocks.

“Inside, huh?” Dude was thinking of how much explosives it would take to bust the makeshift barricade down-and Nick talked over his thoughts, and caused him to look at the synth. “If you want to go at this alone, I understand, it’s personal.”

Dude thought on it, it wouldn’t bother him at all; though Kellogg’s fate might concern the Sleuth. “No, I always can use a bullet sponge.” Nick didn’t look particularly pleased by his answer, “You are more useful than just that, Mr. Valentine. For the moment.” Dude smirked, and Nick shook his head. “Against my better judgement, I’ll come along.”

“Good, now. Dogmeat-go find Princess.” He ordered, and the dog gave a bark, sniffed the air a few times and then tore off without another thought-heading north-eastern out of sight. Nick Valentine suggested giving the building a quick lookover before resorting to the blasting the front door wide open-and they found themselves on the roof blowing apart turrets instead.

Descending through the roof entrance-and was confronted by what were also known as synths according to Nickl; he called them, “ Gen 2s .” They looked like mannequins, but beyond that-Nick was the only one who seemed to be bothered by their presence.

After clearing the first floor, taking a moment to clean up wounds and take a tally of supplies-Nick pulled out another cigarette; and breathed out the smoke with a sigh. “Well, it’s lookin’ like it is the Institute is involved, and one of the most dangerous merc’s in the Commonwealth-works for them.”

“Doesn’t change my plans in the slightest.” Dude stated, finding a cig of his own to take a puff on, though apparently 200 hundred years without a smoke-it was like taking a drag from his very first one all over again; was a little rough-he admitted to himself.

“You were made by the Institute you said, but you don’t have any idea where they are?” Dude asked, Nick shook his head. “Not a clue, probably some protocol in the programming.” The Detective shrugged, “From what I understand, none of the escaped Synths know either.”

“Interesting.”

“ Glad you think so.” He snarked, and Dude flicked his cigarette aside, “Well, back to it then.”

And back to it they went, dealing with turrets-Gen 2 Synths, and the occasional robot that activated for one reason or another. It wasn’t too difficult, these things couldn’t hit the broadside of a barn at any great range.

Though, he supposed-their advantage was the fact that there was only a few decently long halls; and they all had been set up to enhance this advantage. Annoying, and time consuming was all they really were in the end.

It was about the time they reached the second floor, when the intercom system sparked to life.  “ Well, if it isn’t my old friend, frozen tv dinner ,  the last time we met, you were cozying up to the pea’s and apple cobbler.”

Dude paused mid-step, an eye twitched along side a lopsided grin that made Nick stop dead with concern.

“Well.” He chuckled with a little bit of a wheeze, “What a witty comment…the bastard nearly ruined my apple cobbler-stole my pea that I’d gone n’ sprouted.” The next synth that charged Dude, was not so kindly slapped across the face with his gun; though unlike his wife, he didn’t quite have the strength to send it flying.

But just because his physical stats were nothing like Princess-didn’t mean he didn’t have the know how; or the charm to back it up.

It was strange, last time he found his tolerance this short- was when he was first crawling up the power ladder in his youth. But this time around...there wasn’t going to be any political backlash for his wrath .

Navigating the maze of broken rooms, direction suddenly becoming difficult to comprehend- the robot s were annoying- everything was annoying . He couldn’t focus, where was the bastard?

Nick shot a speaker, and he frowned, he’d been looking for Kellogg in each room- and almost every time- it had only been a speaker strapped to a synth. “Oh. Clever. Clever .” He tied his temper up, putting it back in the box before it could get the best of him, again- and the two of them proceeded deeper within the Fortress.

Dude stepped into the room, Mr. Valentine right behind him, the lights turning on and the mercenary came out from behind one of the cubicles; along with a few synths.  His hands up, though one was currently occupied with a gun of his own, a handsome .44.

“There he is, the most resilient man in the Commonwealth.” He said with a bit of a chuckle, leaning up against the cubicle. “Funny, I thought I had that honor.” Dude felt fire in his belly, but he spoke with a level tone that could shatter steel.

“Not nearly, my son. Or would you like me to prove otherwise.”

He sighed, “Right to it then, huh? Okay, fine.” He glanced sidelong at one of the synths, the over to Nick before speaking. “You son, Shaun. Great kid. A little older than you're probably expecting-but I bet you’ve figured that out by now.”

Dude had a suspicion, after Nick and Ellie had described Kellogg with a young boy instead of a infant, but it still made him frown. And some of the notes in his house.  “And if you’re hopin’ for a happy reunion. Ain't gonna happen. Your boy, isn’t here.”

“Well, than-Continue your sentence before I add-” He pulled the gun up, “ -Punctuation.” The Synth’s around Kellogg raised their rifles at the two of them, Dude didn’t flinch-barely acknowledged Nick raise his pistol to cover him.

“Well, I suppose you’ve earn that much.” He spoke, standing up straight again. “Shaun’s in a good place. Where he is safe, and comfortable and loved . A place he calls home-the Institute.” Dude’s temper, that had been so nearly wrapped into a box-had begun to engulf it’s little containment.

“Shaun’s home is my home. So I guess the Institute is mine .”  The gunshot wasn’t satisfying, neither was the spray of blood that escaped Kellogg’s head. As he found, ducking out of the line of fire for the Synths lasers, that Kellogg was still upright.

His eye was gone, blood running down his face but he just pushed the buttons to the stealth boy-and the camouflage went to work. The feeling in his gut, that had initially been raged turned to an icey thrill-it hadn’t just ended with a BANG , it looked like he was tougher than expected-it meant he could do what he wanted to do in the first place.

Rip the bastard to pieces.

Dealing with the little toy soldiers again, wasn’t hard-it was dodging the shots from that heavy revolver of Kellogg’s.

While the stealth boy didn’t make him, completely invisible-it made him harder to notice in the shadows-while the two of them were being shot at. Though, the moment he became visible again-Dude was on him; snapping out his baton(currently his melee weapon of choice and rarely drawn) and smashing it down on his armed hand.

To be expected, he wasn’t unfamiliar to close combat-and Dude found himself with his hands full- but he didn’t care , in fact; the more Kellogg fought back, the angrier the fire got in his stomach. Dude wasn't at risk for being shot such close range; thankfully his gun was lost somewhere on the floor.

Something was off with his left arm, it was swinging harder than his right; he had to adjust; making sure to block or redirect-but bit by bit-Dude was backing him up; Nick watching-he couldn't get a shot in with him so close but that was fine.

He wanted to do it himself . To feel him break and hear the screams.

Dude snarled, he wasn't very happy at the realization that he wasn't responding at all to the damage as it was inflicted.

Despite being shot in the head, various levels of beating; and he was pretty sure that at least a few of his ribs had been broken-it didn't bother Kellogg in the slightest. Bastard was ruining half the fun.

Kellogg started laughing at some point, ducked behind cover once the two of them had separated- “What, is this it? After all that effort to find me?” Nick had finally just dealt with synths apparently, sitting behind cover with a few new holes in his trenchcoat.

“Yes. That is it.” Stepping out of cover, he straightens his jacket and grabs his little surprise, “But I'm bored now, so let me finish this.” Dude pulled a few grenades, and gave them a scattered toss across the room.

“So unless you decide to scream for me, little man. I’m going to be going now.”

Kellogg was thrown from cover unceremoniously, leg blown partially off- and Dude wandered over as the Mercenary, crawling to collect a weapon. He knelt on back and brought the baton up and start bashing until his skull gave away, and he was splashing the brain matter across the floor.

Once he was finished, he was breathing heavy, and fingers sticky when he noticed something amongst the squashed brain matter. An implant? Clawing it out and examining it.

Nick lit another cigarette, “Like I said earlier, no one knows where the Institute is.”

Dude put the brain implant away, and took a knife out to cut the ‘stronger’ arm.

“Someone always knows Mr. Valentine.” He replied, prying the cybernetic limb from it’s flesh with a frightening amount of practice. He almost smiled at the Detective’s discomfort behind him- “Just have to find the someone.”

He sighed, “Well, until than we’re in the weeds here. We’ve gotta take a step back- and bring in a fresh pair of eyes.” Dude pulled a piece of paper with a passcode on it- he assumed for the brand new looking terminal on the table just beyond some of the cubicles.

“And who’s eyes will we be needing than, Mr. Valentine?”

The Synth took a long drag of his cig, and continued speaking, “The only person I know who’d be willing to snoop up the Institute’s tail feathers- is Piper.”

Dude looked back at him, waiting for an explanation- with little patience or enthusiasm displayed on his face. “Trust me the dame knows a lot more than she lets on...and she lets on a lot.”

“If I know Piper, she’s done her homework already, waiting for her time to shine- besides, we need to talk it through with someone.” Nick answered, and flicked his cigerette to the side as Dude looked over the single file on the computer- talking about Shaun already being taken away.

He unlocked the doors and without another word, the two of them headed back outside...

With that loose end, all said and done: Dude and Nick stepped back outside, the air practically vibrating as vertibirds flew overhead-not far behind many of them was a blimp . Dude and Nick stared, listening to the blaring broadcast that was almost drowning out their engines.

“People of the Commonwealth. Do not interfere. Our intentions are peaceful. We are the Brotherhood of Steel.”

“ Deep in the darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing. ” Nick said in a bit of a harsh whisper, Dude pried his eyes from the sight in the sky and to the Detective.  “Flying their ship straight into the heart of the Commonwealth-Mark my words the Brotherhood is here to start a war.” He added.

“Brotherhood of Steel? Interesting, what's their agenda? ” Dude brought his bloodied knuckles to his chin-oh right, he hadn't cleaned up had he?

“A bunch of nonsense ‘bout protecting Humanity from itself, but confiscating every bit of technology they can get their hands on. And killing anything that they don't think is human.”

“I'm assuming you don't fall on that list than?”

Nick shook his head, “Probably not.” Dude nodded after a moment, watching the craft drift off to the Boston bay. He needed to plan, things were falling into motion; and so many things were still unknown here in the Wasteland-while yes, the general free-for-all is there...people don’t like conquerors.

Then he looked back at Nick, “Well. I have some business clearing out a place called the Castle. If you could go and be a Detective, and let me know when you and Ms. Wright have something worth while. Have a good evening, Mr. Valentine .”

Chapter Text

She was checking over her notes in the pip-boy, Princess had a couple things to do since helping the people at the Cambridge Station.

• Investigate a Bunker, up north; information provided by the three members of the Lost Patrol.

• Tell the little settlement of Country Crossing that the ghouls wouldn't bother them-that wouldn't take long, that wasn't far away from the Training Yard.

• Do what Mr. Grumpy Pants-Rhys-wanted; clear out some ghouls somewhere else.

• Find some time to catch and cook some dinner(Maybe Country Crossing will let me make something there)

A bark made her look up, and to her surprise; Dogmeat came barreling towards her and knocked her onto her back.

“Dogmeat!” Princess laughed, petting the dog until he finished licking her face clean-than plopped over out of breath.

“Oooo~did you run all this way Dogmeat?” How long had been all this way? She had no idea.“Were you with Dude?” He half heartedly barked a reply. She smiled and pulled out a container of purified water and found a bowl in her salvage bag. “There you go.”

She sat beside the dog, letting him drink his fill before getting ready to leave-when a new radio frequency appeared on her Pip-Boy-well, it wasn't new; it the same Frequency used by her new friends at Cambridge…

She considered a moment to listen to it, she was offly busy; and besides, she wanted to see Dude more than anything.  Princess sighed, it was like his campaign days all over again- busy , busy , busy .

So where was that Castle place? Not terribly far she hoped.

*********

Dogmeat and Princess arrived at the station outside the old fort, a couple Minutemen were playing cards-Preston happen to be taking watch when she approached.

“Princess-” He nodded, “I'm surprised to see you here without the General.”

Princess brushed her hair back, and tilted her head. “Why would you think that?” Preston blinked, and answered. “Well, you two...seem quite smitten...unless I'm mistaken.” Her smile grew, and her cheeks flushed with heat. “Of course-but-Dude can do somethings, and I can do other things. So for now~we've split up. But ! He should be here soon.”

“Good.”

She listened to the Minutemen chat-one of them was from Quincy, which apparently where the Minutemen had been settled before. He was missing an eye completely-and was telling the three others how he'd lost it.

They all looked tired of the story, but with Princess’s arrival was someone who hadn't heard it. According to him, he lost that part of his face because of a ripper; however-one of the others talked over him. “Mac-you said you got your eye blown out by a rifle!”

“He told me his face was smashed!”

Preston shook his head as the three squabbled, looking at Princess as she fiddled with a Dogmeat’s bandana. “Don’t mind them at all, Ma’am. They always do that.” He said with a bit of mirth, and knelt down to pet the dog himself. “Princess?”

“Yeah?” She looked up, her thoughtful face twisting into some surprise and confusion, as she often did when she was addressed suddenly. “What’s wrong...you don’t look very….” He paused as he thought about what he was going to say, though Princess continued his sentence for him. “Happy? No...guess not…I...I just started thinking about home...and how busy we’re again.”

“Busy then too?”

“Yes...he was a Senator, a really popular one.” Princess answered, still playing with Dogmeat’s bandana, while the mutt was all to pleased with all the attention he was getting. “Arn’t the politicians why the world ended?” Preston bounced back, and tried not to flinch at the look the woman gave him.

So far, he’d only seen that look on her a handful of times, it was never something good- and it was almost always in relation to Dude, he realized. The devotion she had for that man...was concerning; Preston decided- especially with her answer.

“Dude...isn’t like any of those greedy bastards.” Her voice level, in a deeper tone than she normally broadcasted to the world. “And don’t you ever compare them to him again. Because they weren’t any where near his level.”

“Compare me to what, Dear?” Dude’s voice was a surprisingly welcome sound to Mr. Garvey, but the rest of the Minutemen looked excited- their new leader had arrived.

Shaking of hands, introductions-it almost felt like home.

“Nothing Sweetie~” She giggled, and bounced to him; wrapping her arms around him to give him a kiss. He smiled at her softly, and held her a moment as he looked at Preston, “So what’s the situation, Mr. Garvey?’

“It looks like Mirelurks, but they’re heavily nested in- they’ve had a good couple years to get nice’n settled. “ Garvey nodded, and one introduced as Mac, picked up a frighteningly modified flamer. “This is for them here nests! Cook some Mirelurk Omelets tonight!”

They all believed Dude could give them what they’d lost, if the rabble desires were that simple, he may not have to use a strong arm approach at all. Princess tilted her head, “What’s a Mirelurk?”

When they looked at her like she was born under a rock, just yesterday- he coughed a bit. And Mr. Garvey saved them all from getting pistol whipped...or worse; “A Mirelurk is...um…it’s a hard shelled...?”

He thought awful hard, before picking up a stick and amicably drawing in the mud; a rounded- crawly of some kind. Lots of little pincers and a small face- Princess was already clearly uncomfortable from the caricature…

“And they only real place they seem to hate getting hit is the face...the rest takes damage like-a-son-of-a-bitch.” He finished, and lifted his rifle again; looking to the other men. “Our primary objective here- is to clear the courtyard.”

“Well- whatta we waitin’ for, let’s get in there and shoot those lobsters!”

“No, no- no. If we split up- we can flank them for both sides! It’ll be like shootin’ fish in a barrel!”

“Why not let them come to us? We could set up a firing line for you all to draw them out?”

Preston watched them, nodding slightly with each of the options the Minutemen provided. Dude had no qualms with any of them, but the most direct approach seemed most effective. “Set up a firing line, Princess and Dogmeat can draw them out- right Dear?”

She nodded with a grin, a brought her bat up and rested it on her shoulders. “Anything for you Dude!”

Preston laughed slightly, “Alright- let’s go men.”

Dude put his arms behind his back as they walked up to the fallen wall, the flamer lagging a bit- “Save your fire for the nests, or they get to close- understood, Mr. Mac?” The veteran nodded, and put himself in the center of the line.

Princess gave Dude a kiss, and held his hand for a long moment before he nodded. “Go on Beautiful, I’ll be right behind you.”

She nodded, Dogmeat and her moved over the hill without any more delay. However, she wasn’t gone from sight for long.

“OOOOOH MY GOD THEY’RE SO GROSSSSSS!” She shrieked, leaping to the firing line as the crustaceans followed after her in a frenzy, Dogmeat leaping and grabbing ahold of one of the massive claws to stop it from nearly clipping Princess’s arm or leg in half.

His new revolver cracked, it’s kick wasn’t terrible- the bark an announcement to it’s surprisingly powerful shot. Nailing the offending mirelurk in it’s disgusting face, allowing the mutt to escape it’s wrath mostly unscathed.

A dozen of those things followed.

They were tough, as explained.  Even tougher than those Giant Mutants, or the flesh eating Ghouls- both had plenty of area to do damage too- but these, only their faces seemed to have any sensitivity.

“Dear-how do you feel about crab tonight! Nice bottle of wine and dance to some old world blues?!” Dude piped off, Princess turning her head after batting one of the Lurk’s off balance. Her pure smile, could make any grey sky turn blue- all while covered in- seafood and mud.

“I’d love that Dude!”

She laughed, then promptly shrieked at the small hatchling that leapt onto her shoulders- and attempted to take a bite out of her. He leveled the gun, and waited till she turned enough to take the shot-

A red line crossed his vision, arching wildly and striking the vile creature and reducing it to ash. She jumped a few steps forward, visibly startled by the heat- and yelled in girlish shrieks trying to dust off what wasn’t there.

The process of clearing out the main infestation wasn’t too difficult,  it took longer than expected, but the sun was still in the sky when the courtyard was finally finished.

“Mr. Garvey, Mr. Mac- if you can begin clearing the hallways- I will have the other members begin clearing the nests the rest of the way.” Dude reloaded, and the two Minutemen nodded and jogged into the shadowed hallways. “You two- you heard me .” The remaining two nodded, “Let’s see if there is some shovels or somethin’.”

They only took a couple steps away, Princess had stepped towards him to celebrate- fire was just licking out of the simple stone windows when the roar rumbled through the air.

Princess tensed like a lioness about to pounce, and his gun leveled in the direction he was sure it had come from- the giant gap in the wall-facing a body of water. Everyone but the two cleaning out the wall was faced towards and Princess’s face twisted into horror at the monster that pulled itself from the apparent depths.

“That’s repulsive.”

He pulled the hammer back, though a moment of consideration- the ‘small’ caliber probably wouldn’t do anything to the monstrosity. But then again, none of them had anything considerably big to shoot with- to bad the flamethrower was occupied, it would be-

Something sprayed out from it’s…. mouth(?) , and coated one of the Minuteman; the smell of melting flesh was enough to indicate what the slime was to Dude, and Princess hopped away before any could splash onto her. The poor idiot didn’t stay upright for long, a garbling gasp as their face melted into goop...

“ Shit! ” The other Minutemen yelled, scrambling as fast as he could- but his speed was reduced to a crawl, as only a small amount of spray covered his leg and had made it unusable; and he was reduced to a equally useless as he started screaming.

Princess moved in, before Dude could just put him out of his misery, so he wouldn’t be so irritating. She grabbed him by the collar and dragged him to the nearest cover, which was a sad excuse for even a shack.

He followed her, ducking down beside the rather intact radio station...

“...Hmm. This is probably not the best cover, Love. Do you think you can make a run to the Shelter?” Dude looked at her, she’d pulled a knife off the man’s belt and cut as much of the fabric off his leg that still remained covered in the slime...it helped a little, but the damage was done- unless Princess provided him with a stim- which at the moment, would prove a waste if they got splashed again.

She peeked out through the slits in the shack, judging the distance carefully.

The actual distance, was hard for her to tell, but without a great deal of tripping hazards visible; she’d be able to carry the man to safety- than she turned to Dude, a crease in her brow. “What about you?”

“I’ll be right after you.” He smiled at her, and with a prompt nod, she hoisted the man onto her shoulders- abandoning her salvage bag- standing with a grunt.

“3, 2...Go.” Dude walked out the opposite direction, throwing a few rounds it’s way, strolling with a bit more haste than he normally would offer; to get to the laser weapons abandoned by their previous owners.

Thankfully, one of them had a standard military issued laser rifle, and not the crank rifle. A spray caused him to move a bit faster, and for hopeful expediency- he rolled to collect the rifle and up to his feet again.

It didn’t have a full clip, but he only needed to distract the giant bug-crab-thing to allow Princess an escape.

Which she did as gracefully as the previously mentioned lioness, hot-footing it across the courtyard into the doorway- to relative safety. Once he was sure, he started to make his way around- it was more difficult than anticipated, it was also spawning more hatchlings- which were now scurrying along the ground towards him.

He didn’t have the ammo for this.

“Tsk.” He hissed, giving one a hard kick-sending it onto it’s back; his face turning into a scowl as a spray flew over his shoulder. A few drops of the foul smelling acid burned through his shirt- scoring his skin underneath.

“HONEY! GET DOWN~!”

There was a lot of merriment in that call, so risking being doused in the massive mirelurk’s acid; he turned-to see Princess aiming a Rocket Launcher at the beast.

He didn’t hesitate to lunge into cover, even with those little pests nicking at his heels. The hissing roar of the rocket’s propulsion flew past him and made contact with the creature- a painfully loud cry.

It didn’t take long for another one to follow, Preston had emerged and was shooting the laser at it- and Dude joined in to help finish the Mirelurk Queen off.

It crashed backwards, it’s shell flying off along with bits of flesh and blood spraying the walls- the wretched smell of half cooked meat and it’s spit lingered in the air. But everything fell... quiet .

“Holy shit.” Mac yelled to break the silence, and than Preston and the other two Minutemen began cheering(Princess was apparently kind enough to spare a Stimpack)- and his lips twitched slightly into a smile as his wife joined in the hollering.

Still wielding the Rocketlauncher like it weighed nothing.

Chapter Text

Princess stood on her tip toes, pulling the fabric taut and then lining the nail up; to hammer it in place. On the fabric, was a updated map of the Commonwealth...or at least the current northern section of the Commonwealth.

It was basic, and as to scale as it could be-slightly stretched on the massive table they had dragged into the biggest room in the Castle. “How does that look?” She looked over her shoulder at Dude, who sat in a chair- eyes half lulled, one hand bracing his chin and the other…

Her cheeks flushed red, and he answered with a bit of a husk. “ Wonderful .”

It had been nearly a week, wounds were healed- the construction of the Castle was making headway; the trade routes were forming nicely around the ring of settlements between Sanctuary and the Castle.

They’d had a chance to relax.

And apparently Dude wanted to do a little more than sit idle, watching Princess bend over a table. He moved, turning her slowly to face him, giving her a deep kiss- one hand hiking her skirt up- the other was undoing his belt. A simple shift of fabric, and they were in business.

She giggled, leaning her head back as he started tickling her neck; mind drifting briefly on the fact he needed to shave. Skin warming, breath becoming short- her legs lifted and held at his elbows.

Dude made an effort to move the table(it wasn’t happening-but the thought is what counts), in all this, they hadn’t had a moment to themselves that wasn’t threatened- since the day the bombs dropped.

Both of them apparently needed to let off steam- a lot of steam.

The door suddenly opened, “General-shit-”

Dude’s gun came unholstered, cracking off beside her head and making her yelp- the sound causing her ears to ring. “ Out .” Was all he said to the retreating individual, before setting the revolver down beside her hip- still smoking. “...I apologize Love, reflex.” She didn’t even hear the door slam shut-

He held her face, the two of them suddenly still- the sweet smell of sweat that had gather quickly dissipating as the wind passed through the thin barriers. Princess shivered, and he sighed softly.

“...We can….finish this later…” She whispered, and shifted slightly- to which he nodded. “How’s your head, Dear?”

“I’ll be alright.” Princess rubbed her ear; than adjusting her skirt- fixing the clothing underneath. Dude took in a deep breath, and pulled up his slacks again- he wasn’t grumpy with her…

Pity the fool who decided next to walk in.

“...Anyway...I’m going to see what The Brotherhood wants...traders are complaining that the Brotherhood’s trying to commandeer some of their supplies to let them pass.” She turned, back to the map, settling as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

She reached forward again, putting in a grey ‘tack’, marked with a simple B and placed it on Cambridge. Than one over the Arc Tec building- where they scavenged the massive rocket from and finally...the Boston Airport, which seemed to be their Center of Operations.

“...And the alternate routes?” He questioned, and she leaned over to the stack of reports from the radio station.

“...Ghouls, Raiders... a pack of wild dogs on the route between Tenpines Bluff…”

“Simple solutions. But costly, maybe rendezvous with the Brotherhood like you suggested, deal with the issue.” He moved a bright pink pin near Cambridge, “Are you sure dear? I mean...you’ve always been better at making deals…”

“You’ve already meet them, besides. I have something to look into-some rumors about a Railroad...or something…”

There was a hesitant knock, and Dude moved, and sat down again. “Come in.” His tone normal-save a rather ruthless tone to it. Princess sat on the edge of the table, picking up the papers to look over; and look busy.  “...Remember your manners, Dude.” She quietly whispered, and he smiled ‘sweetly’ at her, “When do I ever forget my manners?”

Preston Garvey stepped in, clearing his throat real quick- an older woman beside him. “Sir, Ma’am, this is-”

“I can introduce myself pup, Ronnie Shaw, Commonwealth Minutemen.”

He looked uncertain of himself, and Dude’s raised eyebrow was followed by the sharp lash of his tongue. “I thought you were the only one left, Mr. Garvey?” He shook his head, “...Sorry General, think she joined before my time.”

“...She’s a Minuteman?” Princess whispered sheeply, and Ronnie made a disgruntled noise. “What? Don’t think an old broad like me can fight? I could kick your ass...princess.”

Princess frowned, and Dude covered his mouth briefly, bringing his gun up and absently waving- Preston cut in, “Ah-Ma’am, this is the General- and his wife...erm... Princess… ” The woman looked at him bewildered, and went to speak however was interrupted by Princess herself.

“What do you want?”

“I heard that the Minutemen were trying to get back on their feet, so I thought I’d come see the new General for myself.” She grumbled, crossing her arms, “So what’s your story-what makes you think anyone even wants the Minutemen back?”

“Because, I told them so.” He answered.

“Excuse me?” Her eyes narrowed on him. “I told them they needed the Minutemen back...I’m right.”

“That’s not a-”

“But is it wrong though? Give me an good example of why not?”

He waited, than nodded slightly. Dude looked at Shaw calmly, and rested his hand on his chin. “Now, please- enlighten me.” Ronnie looked stubbornly reluctant, before nodding herself.

“I’m probably the only who still remembers this. But the Castle’s Armory was located west bastion.” Ronnie began to explain, “All of the Minutemen’s best equipment was stored in there, weapons, armor-schematics; you name it.”

“I take it, it’s that massive door on the West side?”

“Yeah. Still sealed up tight by the looks of it. But, the trick of this place- there was a way to it from this Office-” The Old Minutewoman motioned to the ruin doorway- currently braced- waiting to be cleared the rest of the way.  

“Is there? Wonderful. Preston, have the construction crew return to the project- I want it done before dinner.” Dude stood, holstering the gun and pulling his suspenders back up onto his shoulders.

“Yes, General.” Preston nodded, and turned- hollering as he exited the room.

“We will take a walk, Ms. Shaw-I’d like to introduce you to your new Duty Assignment.” Dude motioned, and offered his arm- to which Princess attached herself too without delay. Ronnie frowned, “...What’s that?”

“Training our new recruits.”

The Castle was already busy, but with the new orders-it was buzzing like a beehive.

Ronnie was against her post at first, but with Dude’s usual charm and the sorry sight of the newest recruits; she eventually agreed. Giving them their first look at a Superior Officer who meant business-nothing against Garvey of course, but he could be found wanting in disciplining the men.

“Sir! The Tunnel’s cleared!” One of the crew shouted from the office, and the trio turned. Dude checked the watch on his wrist- and chuckled, “With twenty minutes to spare- excellent.”

Princess squeezed his arm, giving him a gentle peck on the cheek, Ronnie huffed, “Well, let’s get down there and see if there’s still a way through.” Dude simply motioned, “After you than, Ms. Shaw.”

“Let me go get my bat, and I’ll get dressed, and meet you there.” Princess smiled, finally breaking away from him. Ronnie scoffed a bit, but decided to march ahead before the glare could fully settle on her.

“I don’t like her very much Dude. She’s rude.”

“And you’re the one to told me to use my manners.” He ran his finger along her chin, before gently tapping her nose. “Go on, Love. We’ll be waiting.” And with that- she skipped off towards their temporary lodgings here, a small shack built just by the entrance to the North-East Bastion.

Dude made his way over, his armor was currently in repair- but he didn’t care to much for it anyway- he prefered the light materials- so he could move with ease. However, to give Princess comfort of mind, he had a set of Combat Armor being refurbished and repainted the dark blue of the Minutemen.

Princess came back- the flannel and jeans covered by steel, leather and the combat armor they’d found. Mismatched, but to Dude, some of the most attractive articles of clothing on her- his Warrior Queen.

On her hip was a simple 10mm, and resting on her shoulders was the bright pink, chain wrapped bat- she’d started calling it ‘Witty Comeback’, it was adorable .

“Took you long enough, let’s get movin’.” Ronnie snipped as she disappeared down into the tunnels, Dude would have to give her an object lesson at the rate she was going- or Princess was probably going to pummel her to death for her rudeness.

Unexpectedly, with the power connected above- the electricity passed through to the old connections- and provided the emergency lighting. Also unexpected, was the amount of mines that were littering the floor, scouring the first room almost proved fatal for this dynamic trio.

Two turrets and plenty of supplies, the endeavour was looking profitable on more than one front. There was enough concrete mixture below to properly repair that hole in the west side, instead of putting together something shanty- which he despised.

Plus, a great deal of canon balls, of course, though the Castle didn’t appear to be equipped for them at the moment.

The real challenge...was Sarge .

A Sentry Bot, was dormant- at least they’d entered the room.

“ Movement detected. Sentrybot designation SARGE powering up!”

Ronnie stepped out, “Well, I’ll be. Never would have guess Sarge was still down here. Don’t worry-” The bot’s light turned red, “ Comparing Intruders to known Minuteman Roster. ”

“ Error: file corrupted. Initiating Defensive Protocols. ”

Princess grabbed Dude and yanked him back behind the doorway- the machine gun whirring to life. Ronnie hopped back herself, “Son of-”

“ Target locked-threat level: RED. ”

“What were you saying?” Dude asked, Ronnie snapped- “Nevermind! Let’s put him down!” The brick was powdering, the cover being devoured by the machine gun power. Ronnie was equipped with the musket laser, and Dude; of course, had his .44.  Princess was the first to step out; Dude’s jaw tightened when the first rounds scrapped on her metal armor.

A spray of blood that hit the wall behind her as she ran to the arch-way in towards the middle of the room..

Sarge had other plans- the gun fire halted, but the blast of steam and roar of his engine filled the small space and he charged unexpectedly. Princess could only brace herself-but still...the crunch they hit the wall, Dude worried for the briefest moment.

But, that charge had overheated the bot- releasing her from being pinned- she stumbled, coughing before angrily swinging at it’s leg joints without mercy. And when Sarge started up again, the gun starting to whir and Princess turned her anger onto it.

It allowed Ronnie and Dude to shoot it’s sensitive parts-but his wife was taking the brunt of it’s focus. But the fight ended up passing quicker, the Sentrybot smoked- and fire started.  Princess dove out of the way when Sarge went up in flames.

“Princess- are you alright, Love?” He moved over, and administered a Stim to her before she could protest. “Yeah, fi-OW!” She swatted the empty syringe away and glared at him- she gritted her teeth as she felt the bones fix themselves under her skin.

Her least favorite part of the healing process. “God damn it-Dude.” She whined, and sat crosslegged on the floor- Ronnie kicked the smoldering ruins of Sarge, “To bad Sarge went haywire. He’s been guarding the Castle since….forever, far as I know.”

“Looked like the rabid dog needed to be put down.” Dude replied, that seemed to be a common trait amongst the robots- the ones still running were a few bolts short of working order.

“Yeah...alright...let’s see if I remember the password…” Ronnie grumbled, and made her way over to the terminal.

“...I’ll still be able to go to Cambridge.” Princess muttered quietly, and Dude looked back down to her- still kneeling. “I’m sure you cou-” She looked up at him, “You stim’d me...I’m good to go.”

“Princess-”

“Dude, it needs to be done.” His wife said, cutting him off. “...I’ll be fine, see…” She pulled some of the flannel on her chest aside, just at the cusp of her armor...her chest would have been nearly purple from the impact- but to his silent delight, the skin was perfectly milky….

He leaned down and kissed her forehead, “Of course, I see that now.”

Such a strong woman-determined and willing, especially on his behalf; it warmed his heart. But since they had woken, he found in situations like this himself worrying, which was odd. Worry was something he never did before the bombs fell, concern was rarely felt if things were going south…

Unless it was Princess. But still...even than...he had never had to worry about her dying in a mugging, more as the legal fees for the Lawyers should that mugger manage to survive.

This was a dangerous world.

“Got it-” Ronnie shouted back to them, and the Pendleton Couple stood up; the older woman walked through the now opened door- with them shortly following. The room was small, littered with dusty bottles of wine...and the faintest smell of a corpse remained.

Beside the desk, surrounded by bottles was a pale, and withered body of a man. “...That explains the landmines, this is...well, was- General McGann- he had your job back when I joined up.” Dude looked over the clothing, from what he could tell, it had been cool enough to keep the corpse from bloating- and with the amount of wine, he might have succesfully pickled himself like those Mummies.

“Must’ve gotten trapped down here when the sea beast attacked the Castle.” Ronnie regarded the corpse solemnly. “He did manage to keep the armory secure, I’ll give him that much.”

“Guess the uniforms yours, if you want it. This old geezer doesn’t need it anymore.”

The Uniform of the Minuteman General. It wasn’t bad looking- could use a good wash for sure; Dude started to pull it off of him- oh, yes, definitely did. Ronnie Shaw gave the body a half hearted salute, “Rest in peace general. Your fight is done...and the Minutemen live on.”

Than she snorted, “Come on, let’s go- no point n’ getting sentimental about somethin’ that happened forty years ago.”

With that, Ronnie marched to the other door- puffed up to defend her ego.

Making their way back up above ground didn’t take to long, the fight was longer, and more grueling. Ronnie leading the way, while Princess and him walked arm in arm- each had a hand armed and ready for the next threat.

But Ronnie seemed confident that there wasn’t anymore trouble, and only when they saw the massive gate from the inside did both of them holster their weapons. “Okay, here we are.” Ronnie stated, “Let’s see if this still opens from here.” Without hesitation, she smacked the button- to which the hall was filled with a horrible grinding sound...but the door shifted and lifted up and revealed the courtyard- filled with somewhat started people.

“There we go.” She smirked, “I told you I’d get us in here.” Dude offered a hand to her, to shake. “That you did.” With an affirmative handshake, she twitched her head down the hall further.

“Let’s see what goodies are still left.”

The contents of the Armory stilled remained intact, fully stocked with the weapons, ammo and materials the woman had promised. It even contained a blueprint for a Mortar...Dude might have grinned a little at the sight of that.

Combined with the supplies they had below, they could fix the walls and properly fix them with proper defense. The soldiers would be armed, and armored- and they can begin crafting armor more comfortably. Plus, it had a working power armor station, meaning he could bring his project from Red Rocket and continue it here.

Princess gave Dude a kiss, bouncing excitedly out of the Armory- shouting something, whatever it was- he could hear the cheers from inside the building.

His Empire was starting to take root.

Chapter Text

Princess’s departure was delayed till the next morning, because of a bit of celebration the Castle threw after the armory was opened. Dude allowed it, of course- high moral meant better work; better work meant higher quality.

It also provided a few snacks for her travels onto Cambridge- and allowed the two of them to finish what they started that morning: uninterrupted .

She got her equipment repaired from the previous evening- and gathered a couple clips of 1omm to take with, along with her normal assortment of melee weapons. Dude was overseeing the renewal of the Mortars- at least for the time being- before he was going to leave himself.

Princess braided her hair today, and tucking the braid up under the new hat they’d found last night. It still had a faint smell of old wine, but it didn’t bother her too much once she got on the road again.

D0gmeat came with her-such a good boy.

She followed alongside a Trade Caravan, heading towards one of the northern settlements, since they would pass by Cambridge anyway. Her presence put a lot of the Traders at ease- Dogmeat helping to keep the Brahmin in line.

When they tried to pass, like the Traders complained- the Brotherhood made an attempt to commandeer supplies from them without paying. Princess stepped in, “Excuse me-” Standing between the Lead Trader and the Knight’s currently trying to extort them.

“ Get back Scaver. ” The Power Armored Knight said, almost spitting down at her- though he was wearing a helmet to prevent that action. “Is Paladin Danse present? I want to speak to him.”

“You are not authorized-” He countered, Princess stopped one foot. “ Now , I want to speak to him now.” The other Knight on guard, leaned closer and quietly said. “Sir, I think that’s the local the Paladin was talking about.”

“What?”

“Princess!” Scribe Haylen shouted, and jogged down the steps. “Stand down Knights, she’s an ally.”

She waved to her friend, though- she wanted bound forward to offer a hug-but she needed to look professional. “I need to talk to Danse- is he here?” Haylen nodded, “Yes ma’am.” She than looked back at the Caravan, “Go ahead, they won’t be bothering you anymore.”

The Knight probably opened his mouth, and Princess glared into the eye slits of the helmet. “You won’t be bothering them.”

The Trading Caravan moved on, as she ordered- waiting till they were out of sight before following Haylen lead her inside. “Glad you came back, Palladian Danse hoped you would.”

“I meant to come back sooner, I have the missing Patrol’s holotags.” Princess replied, and searched a small pouch on her belt; nodding once she was sure they were there. “Really? What happened to them?”

The Scribe paused, and looked at Princess for an answer- she lowered her gaze. “....They died in the line of duty, Scribe Haylen.”

She’d give them the details in the report but the deaths had been gruesome- and she didn’t feel like talking about it. Just the thought of it was enough to cause her to feel a little sick..

Cornered by ghouls...bleeding out in a Supermutant camp…

Princess took a deep breath, and shook her head. “Okay, I need to see Danse, and Danse needs to see me~we shouldn’t dally.” She grinned at Haylen, shaking away the uneasy feeling she had a moment ago with just that.

The Scribe nodded, and they headed inside- just a week ago- it was just the three of them. Now the site was bustling with people...just like the Castle was. They were organized, much more than the Minuteman Militia; their gear was closer to military grade- laser weapons and combat armor strapped over the old flight suits.

At least for the soldiers, the scribes wore the handmade stuff- trench coats and loaded with varying types of equipment- depending on what they were a Scribe off.

Princess’s eyes wandered through the station as they went in search of the Paladin, Dogmeat, trailing on beside her obediently.

She’d catch the edge of comment that would make her turn her gaze on a group talking…

She was always good at catching people talking about her.

She grew up in a mansion, from a Wealthy Family, even if they were struggling come those final days- they were still on top, one of the richest families of America- who’s bloodline traced back to the earliest shipping routes between Europe and the Colonies…

Princess head started to ring, the faces blurring into smooth nothings- the world turning fuzzy as they made their way up stairs.

“Princess? Are you alright?” Haylen’s voice was distant, and Dogmeat whining was shrill and something she latched onto.

But it didn’t stop her from drifting.

The dark wood floors of the Pendleton mansion were under her feet, rich blue carpet-tripped with gold was supposedly made in Italy...a long time ago before the nations of Europe fell into ruin. The smooth surface of the railing under her hand was cool, from the morning- as the heating system was only allowed to be used in the coldest nights of winter, and the fireplaces, only if someone was going to be in that room for awhile.

She shivered, before looking up at the figure of her mother at the top of the stairs, hand raised and delicately holding her hourly martini. Catherine Pendleton, a woman late in her years but somehow she still stood like she was a goddess- the fact pronounced in her silver evening gown-ears and neck decorated with sapphires.

The few lines in her face only made her appear more imperious, surpassing the stereotypical worn monarch into art.

“Hello Darling, plan to get ready for the dinner this evening?” Her voice was level, neither coddling or ill-tempered- despite her habits. Princess nodding, “Yes Mother…”

“Do you plan on wearing the dress we picked out yesterday? You looked absolutely ravishing in it.” Catherine stepped down the stairs carefully towards her, not that she was unstable from her drink- those heels looked treacherous.

“Should I?” Princess asked, walking up to meet her. “Of course dear, this is your special night.” Her father’s voice came through, “Only because of the strings I had to pull-” Nathan Pendleton, a plump man, in a suit that made him look like he had a tire around his waist, the only hair on his head was a bushy mustache on his lip.

“Why aren’t you ready yet? We’re supposed to be leaving.” He snipped, passing the two ladies, clipping his cuffs together. “The car is going to be here in fifteen minutes.” His tone, soaked with disdain, as always. She was an investment that hadn’t panned out, and he hated her for it.

“Nathan.” Her mother’s voice cut the air like a blade of ice- the man stopped in his tracks, like he’d been shot. “Yes Catherine?”

Princess didn’t question why the two of were married, both were from prominent families, though father was on a lower stand- barely a choice for the grandparents she never met.  And maybe once, they might have loved each other.

Now it was barely an alliance.

“If you could have them pull the car around, I’ll help her get dressed. Dear .”

An unfamiliar voice disrupted her thoughts “Princess-” She was still standing on the stairs, the dust brushing her nose and a light flashed into her eyes. “Hey!” She swatted at the source, the Scribe yelped, startled, but Haylen stopped her arm from swinging any further- making a soft grunt of surprise at the force she put into it.

“Are you alright?” Scribe Haylen asked, eyebrows narrowed and causing a crease in her forehead.

“Oh-yeah fine, just...the heat- ya know? Was a long hike over here.” She laughed it off, it was hot-suffering from heat stroke wasn’t out of the question in this wasteland. Dogmeat barked- and bumped her leg, reminding her- he was still there for her.

“You do seem dehydrated…” The medic nodded, rubbing his wrist where he’d been smacked. “...Get something to drink, Miss.”

“Yes Sir.” Princess agreed, and pulled a purified bottle from her bag, “Sorry for slowing us down.” She apologetically lowered her gaze from Haylen’s again. “There you two are-” The Paladin barked from the top of the stairway.

“Sorry Sir-Got distracted.” Scribe Haylen answered, and saluted alongside of the rest of the Scribes in the stairway. “Dismissed-all of you..” Each Scribe nodded and headed back down the stairs- leaving Princess alone.

“I’m sure you saw the cavalry.” He looked a little excited, and she nodded. “Yeah- I was on my way to the Castle when I saw it fly in. It’s amazing!” However, her question that followed was less impressed. “...But...why’d the Brotherhood bring it here?”

He nodded, enthusiastically, “The Pyrdwen is loaded with enough troops and supplies to mount a major offensive.” Danse motioned, the power suit whirrinig with the motion and he started heading up the stairs. “And if she’s here, than Elder Maxon is here. And that means we’re going to war.”

Princess followed and the hound followed, “...Who’s Elder Maxon?”

“Maxon is the Commander of this division of the Brotherhood of Steel. He’s the model of what every Brotherhood soldier hopes to become.” He answered with pride, marching up the old steps-testing the limits of the ancient stairway with the weight of the Power Armor. “If we’re going to war, I can promise you- he’ll be leading the charge.”

“That being said, you’re about to get to know the Pyrdwen up close and personal.” He ‘slid’ out of the doorway to the roof at an odd angle- where a vertiberd was being geared up for flight. The Minutemen had reported seeing these flying from the airport- increasingly more as the week passed since they arrived. It felt like forever since she’d seen one of those. Danse continued; “I received orders that we’re both to report to her immediately.”

“...I didn’t think there were any of those left workin’, I’ve seen so many crash sites…” Princess said quietly as the approached- the engine was beginning to spool up.  Danse pulled on his helmet- his voice coming through a the helmet speaker.

“The Brotherhood has salvaged and repaired hundreds of Vertiberds-it’s one of the main reasons we can mobilize so fast.” A Scribe began to help him into the craft- but Princess butted in, “Let me help!” The Scribe look offended, but then surprised as she helped secure the armor into place.

Danse laughed a little, Dogmeat barking as she climbed up the rest of the way. The Pilot yelling back, “There isn’t anywhere that mutt can stay-he could fly out if I have to take evasive maneuvers!”

He whined, and she looked sadly at him- “No boy-it’s alright- go home!” His ears went flat, but he slinked back to the doorway quickly.

She absently scratched the air beside her, before strapping herself in- and pulling on a headset. The Pilot watching her navigate the vertiberd with a surprised look behind his aviators- “Danse- who is this lady?”

“She’s the woman I’m sponsoring into the Brotherhood.” The Paladin answered.

“What?” Princess yelled over the noise, both the Pilot and the Danse flitched. “DON’T YELL!”

“Sorry! Sorry!”

She was strapped to bird’s gun, she reached out and gripped the handles-fingers fainting over the trigger briefly.

“Hey-Paladin-were you aware of the Knights extorting supplies from the passing caravans?”

“What?” His voice raised, he sounded offended- “Do you have evidence to-”

“They did it right in front of me, Danse. And the Minutemen have been reporting the issue for nearly a week.” She turned her head to him-looking up at the helmeted individual.

He was quiet for a second, “I will have this investigated immediately.”

Princess stared, her nose wiggled and she gave him an affirmative nod. That response was good enough for now- and she moved on, her gaze returned outward over the Commonwealth; flying over its ruins.

“It’s amazing how the tide of battle can be changed with aerial superiority.” Danse’s tone was in slight awe, the kind of awe that happens no matter how many times they see it- it never goes away. Princess looked over the ruins glumly, the world wasn’t perfect...far from it...but now it was all gone- and it would take a long time before they could return to that world…

If at all.

Danse continued to speak, “We’re going to need that edge when we take on the Institute.” Princess looked at him again, she’d remembered what Preston, what Piper and others said about the mysterious boogeyman of the Commonwealth. “Yeah?” She asked, and he nodded, shifting as much as his harness would allow.

“They’ve already that proven technologically superior, which means there's no telling what type of weapons they have in their arsenal.” His head turned to look out again, “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 Elder Maxson will already have a plan in place by the time we arrive.”

This Elder Maxson sounded competent, and with high respect from his men. Princess would withhold any other judgements till she met the man- because that’s just rude.

Again, Danse spoke up and brought her attention away from the landscape beneath them. “I wish everyone down their believed in our cause but they’ve been blinded by rumors and misinformation.” He sounded wishful, and disappointed. “They don’t realize the Brotherhood of Steel is the Commonwealth’s last chance of survival.”

“That’s offly arrogant of the Brotherhood.” She replied, and tilting her head at the Paladin. He snapped his gaze to her, “Excuse me?”

“Plenty of places were doing alright- not well, but alright. And than there is the Minutemen, the group my husband leads, settlements...we were doing just fine before you arrived.”

“Now with Knight’s disrupting trade routes more regularly- drawing fire on the settlements they happen to be near...you guys have riled up the raiders...A lot of them have started working together Paladin Danse…”

Princess continued, fighting the loud thumping of the motor blades and whirr of the engine. “The Green-men have gotten meaner…I mean, they were already really mean...but...since the Pyrdwen arrived...it’s made life a lot harder for the Commonwealth....”

She could feel his brow furrowing behind the helmet, before he retorted. “Cleansing the Commonwealth is our duty, and I will gladly spill my own blood to ensure our victory.” Princess listened- she remembered men like that, they often didn’t survive to go home during the fight of Anchorage…

“We’re on our final approach to the airport. The Prydwen should be coming into view just ahead.”

The bird turned slightly enough to show the massive flying ship up ahead, it was impressive- not just anything could make that work, that took skill, know-how and a lot of resources. “We’ll be meeting Lancer-Captain Kells on the flight-deck, just stick close to me and answer all of his questions.”

Princess only hummed a response, watching the massive turbines turn slowly to keep the blimp up and stationery. Danse almost laughed, his voice lighter than before as the Vertibird drew closer to the blimp. “There she is! It’s been far too long since I’ve been aboard!”

The Vertiberd Docked over the old Airport, twisted terminals that stood below the blimp were being repaired and fortified by the Brotherhood- turrets going off occasionally to tear down the ghouls that had made themselves residence here.

Princess wondered if they had been people waiting when this all happened...Or people who had flooded there in hopes that they would be safe. Princess shook her head, trying to rid the upsetting thoughts before they settled in…

“Alright, Princess.” Danse said as she undid his harness- “This is the moment when everything changes, I hope you’re ready.” Princess half glanced at him, before stepping off and out of the way of him disembarking.

Than the Paladin marched ahead, “Permission to come aboard, Sir?”  A man in a different styled Brotherhood uniform, with a hat that probably used to be a pilots hat many, many- many years ago; now with a Brotherhood emblem blazen on it. Stood straight and tapped his fist to his chest. “Permission granted, and welcome back Paladin.”

He didn’t address Princess, just offered a hand to shake the with the power armored man in front of her. “Allow me to be the first to congratulate you on a successful mission.” It was than his eyes raked over Princess, and her somewhat ‘frilly’ attire.

And Lancer-Captain Kells, sounded skeptical. “...And this is our new recruit?” His eyes held harsh judgement- and Princess found her face hardening under it. She remembered her old squad leader...he was much nicer than this Kells, she could already tell.

Paladin Danse spoke concisely, “Yes Sir, I’ve field promoted her to Initiate- and I’d like to sponsor her into our rankings personally .” Kells nodded, “Yes, we’ve read the reports.” His gaze flicked over to Danse, the doubt in his tone was lessoned by the fact Danse seemed to be supporting her.

“You’ll be pleased to know that Elder Maxon’s approved your request, and has placed the Recruit in your charge.” Captain Kells put his hands behind his back, Danse sounded somewhat surprised, but grateful all the same. “Thank you Sir, and my current orders?”

“You are to remain on the Pyrdwen and await further orders.” Kells didn’t hesitate to answer, “Very good sir, Ad Victorium, Captain.”

“Ad Victorium, Paladin.”  They saluted each other again, and Danse marched towards the doorway into the bowels of the ship.  Kells waited till he was nearly inside to say something to Princess, a dismissive snort escaped him.

“So you’re the one Paladin Danse has taken under his wing. Hmph. Don’t look like much of a solider to me.”

She paused, before giving him a salute similar to what had Danse had done, “Well, I was- am ! Princess Pendleton- reporting for duty for the Brotherhood of Steel.” His gaze remained unimpressed, “I’ve read the Paladin’s reports, he seems to think you’ll make a fine addition to the Brotherhood.” He stood, like he was talking to some spoiled brat without discipline. Making her wonder about the quality of recruits they got more regularly…

“You might expect an endorsement like that to grant you a great deal of latitude with us, but let me make one thing clear.” Kells voice was commanding, and kept Princess’s attention(uncomfortably, mind you- she hadn’t been in the military for...well...technically two-hundred and...five years.)

“The Brotherhood of Steel came to the Commonwealth with a specific goal in mind. And as Captain of this vessel, I won’t let anyone jeopardize our mission no matter how valuable they think they are.”

“Understood, Initiate?”

“Yes Sir.” She answered, and he nodded, his shoulders didn’t seem as tense after that. “Elder Maxson is addressing the crew shortly, on the Command Deck. Dismissed.” Princess saluted the Captain again, “Ad Victorium.”

He nodded, this seemed to get her a little respect- not much, but enough his face wasn’t as harsh when she turned to head after Danse. Knights, Lancers and Scribes watched her oddly as she passed- one or two scoffed even.

But she had more important things to do right now.

Princess hurried inside, being directed to the first room from the door- where a man in a big coat stood in front of two lines of people she assumed were other initiates. She took a space in the back, but she definitely noticed his eyes follow her even as he spoke with poised strength.

“Brothers and Sisters, the road behind has been long and fraught with difficulty. Each and every of you has surpassed my expectations by rapidly facilitating our arrival in the Commonwealth.”  

Elder Maxson, couldn’t have been any older than Princess, or Dude, in fact she was pretty sure he was younger. Dark hair, a long scar down his cheek, covered partly by a dense beard. Princess at one point, might have considered him something interesting to look at… once . Maxson paced now, accentuating his point with movements of his hands and his punctuation. “You have accomplished this  amazing feat without a hint of purpose, or direction and most impressively, without question.”

The man had the fullest attention of the room, she stood straighter, arms at her sides and feet close together.

“Now, that the ship is in position; it is time to reveal our purpose and our mission.” His words didn’t waver, not for a moment- anticipation made the room tense.

“ They are experimenting with dangerous technologies that could prove the worlds 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, ‘synth’, a robotic abomination of technology that is free thinking and masquerades as a human being.” Maxson’s harsh commanding tone edge with disgust and she felt the murmur of similar feelings through the room.

“The notion that a machine could be granted free will, is not only offense- but horribly dangerous.”

“And like the atom, if isn’t harnessed properly, it has the potential of rendering us extinct as a species.” His voice was raised, but still the same: commanding, confident, direct...things a good commander of men should have. A Commander of an invading force- if they got ahold of the radio station within the Castle, it could spell trouble…

“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 .” He watched the bloodlust in the eyes of his men- but his gaze stopped at Princess, who stood uneasily in the back. “This campaign will be costly and many lives will be lost.”

“But in the end, we will save humankind from it’s worst enemy…. Itself .”

“Ad Victorium!” Elder Maxson ended his speech with a salute, letting his soldiers cheer- “Ad Victorium!” But Princess didn’t. She stared at a Commander, who was calculating- one who was fully prepared to sacrifice legions of men to get their goal completed.

The men and women began to file out- and she planned to follow, but he motioned her forward; and she did- saluting, her normally pleasant smile was replaced by a nearly venomous glare.

Elder Maxson walked to the windows, and looked out. “I care about them, you know. The People of the Commonwealth.”

“If you say so.” Princess replied, tone dour and she crossed her arms over her chest.

He didn’t turn to face her, his reflection gazed at her with slightly raised eyebrows, otherwise he was neutral. “I can understand your indecisiveness, turning your weapons on the people you’re trying to save is a bitter pill to swallow.”

“....Maybe you should talk to the people who live here before you shoot them.” Princess’s eyes narrowed at him, and he shook his head. “Most would appreciate it.” Maxson turned as she added that, “...Despite this…. attitude ...Paladin Danse still thinks you’d be a asset to the Brotherhood.”

Princess made a noise, displeased- but she said nothing.

“Seeing as he’s one my most respected field officers, you couldn’t get a better recommendation. So from this moment forward, you’re granted the rank of Knight.” Princess’s sour face must’ve broke because while he didn’t smile, his eyes twinkled slightly.

“And as befitting of your title- you are granted a suit of Power Armor to protect you in battle. Wear it with pride.”

“...Thank you.” Princess quietly said, before saluting again. “Elder Maxson.”  

She tapped her foot, uncertain for a moment- the rank, and armor were something she hadn’t expected- she expected she’d be at the bottom of the food chain to start. “....I really do think you should talk to the Minutemen.”

“And why should I do that? I heard they haven’t been around for awhile. I am skeptical of their ability handle a war.” Maxson answered, and again brought about a displeased look from Princess. “I am here of my own free will, Mr. Maxson. If you continue to make me mad- I’ll leave.”

“And become a deserter?”

“You arn’t the Army, Maxson, I’ve been in the Army.” Princess tapped her foot increasingly more agitated. He regarded her a moment, “So the detail in the report, that you’re Pre-War, from a Vault. It’s true then?”   

“What do you think, Maxson?” Her anger was blatant, she hated being called a liar, even lightly.

He studied her, long enough for her to feel herself shift uncomfortably. “You don’t seem like the type to lie. Honesty is a good trait in a Knight. But enough, I have a mission for you, I think you’re perfect for the task.”

“I’ll do it-” She started, and he went say something but she kept going. “Only, if you talk to the Minutemen .”

Chapter Text

Dude had left the Castle only a few hours after Princess, making his way to Diamond City to speak with Nick Valentine about their case, or at least that had been the intention. 

He got distracted. Several times.

Raiders, Ghouls, Dogs- a pack or two of the ones called Supermutants. 

It wouldn’t have been so bad, if he had someone travelling with him; but alas- in hindsight they say. Dude was taking a moment, wiping his face of blood and admiring the scenery around him... ruin , new beginnings, a clean slate for him to start from. 

In the World before- a past was only completely erased if all parties involved were dead, and every single thing they own burned to the ground. Everything. And back then, he’d done very well at keeping what he couldn’t just destroy wrapped up and tucked away. 

But when you try to take power, there are always those who wish to take it from you.

Dude had been quite aware that someone would eventually find evidence of whom he had been before reaching the east coast of the United States. His goal was to be in a seat of importance before that. 

His gaze stopped on the Pyrdwen in the distance, across from the bay where he had taken his rest at. Princess was supposed to be there, speaking with the Brotherhood on his behalf- either they would help her, in some fashion- or they would horribly offend her, and they might be down quite a few people. 

Either way, it was give him an answer. 

Is this Brotherhood of Steel useful?

There were plenty of factors to suggest yes; considerable amounts of technology, and people who could use them. A sizable force of devoted men. Likely a larger armory to boot. 

But there were also plenty of things that could make it unfortunately useless. A sizable force of devoted men- an unyielding viewpoint(from what Nick and Preston had explained), and ample technology to make the primitives of the Commonwealth quiver. 

Princess would be the deciding vote. 

Otherwise, he only cared if they were another piece of the chessboard that had to be manipulated as he needed, or removed. 

Dude pushed himself up again, heading back to the nearest street- and looking for a street sign in hopes of figuring out where he’s ended up, but it looks like in the apocalypse people stole the signs long ago.

A frustrated sigh managed to weasel its way out of his throat; if he had a map- he’d be as the saying goes- ‘right as rain’ but again…

He paused, and lifted his wrist that the pip boy. They were lucky that there had been two left in great condition in Vault 111, the pieces of Technology had been valuable, and informative. Dude wondered why he’d never considered looking to see if there was a mapping system installed…

“... Ah . I feel a bit foolish.” He twisted the dial to the appropriate channel, the Pip Boy had done a good job of mapping where he had been...with the lines of where roads were supposed to be. The road he was supposed to be standing on was about twenty feet further ahead, and in the buildings probably just beyond. 

“...Mmm. I wonder…” 

He’d noticed that the pip-boys V.A.T.S was still functional, labeling things when he did feel the need to look at it. The mapping may be wonky, and it made a list of things; requests from Garvey and misc rumors that could be possible allies or resources. 

“...So somewhere, the RobCo Servers are still functional. Very promising.” 

But unfortunately, RobCo was more popular on the west side of the U.S.A; it had a few branches in the east but it mingled with it’s competition. General Atomics, Poseidon Energy and Vault Tec and a few other handfuls of big corporations of the East; all scrapping what they can from the dying world.

Perhaps of all of them, RobCo was much more prepared for the end of civilization than even the dooms-day preppers, Vault-Tec.  Maybe Dude should have invested more into RobCo...ah, well. 

It was much easier to snake into Vault-Tec with Princess’s Father being a big part of the Commonwealth area, he’d been the one to set up Princess and himself at in the neighborhood of Sanctuary… and a frown briefly creased his brow. 

Nathan Pendleton wasn’t a huge name in Vault-Tec. But he was the one who assigned personnel to each of the vaults in the area.  And despite many of Nathan’s shortcomings, he wasn’t entirely stupid...just a weasel. . 

He probably had an idea of what each of the little experiments were; and if he didn’t- he could probably guess and speculate.

Nathan had misstep in front of Dude once, and like Catherine- he hadn’t tolerated his poor treatment of Princess, even before they were married. Though he could never elicit the same fear that Nathan had of his wife- who had him under her heel like a pedestal. 

So in a way, Nathan had saved Princess, himself and their infant son…

He also nearly killed them. 

Dude taps his pip-boy in thought. The only one Nathan liked in the end was his grandson, a legacy he finally would have; probably his reasoning- it would be something Dude would consider. 

A gunshot made him stop his considering, the shouting of Supermutant’s and the bays their hounds made carried through the ruins- followed by the screaming of raiders battle cries. 

He needed to get moving. 

Avoiding the fighting was fairly easy- walking the rotted boardwalks and through the collapsed storefronts. The texture of the muck changed under his feet, dried seaweed pulled from the water to make nests..

Dude only took a moment to recall the Mirelurks from the Castle’s courtyard- to escape the snapping claw one of the nesting ones here. 

The smell of shellfish was enough to make normal people wretch, sure his nose was offended but it didn’t distract him enough to be anything noteworthy. The Hatchlings were after his ankles and the Mirelurks were trying to take his arms. 

And without proper armament to break these shells open it would be suicide, as such- he had far too many plans to just perish here in such a inconspicuous way. To die like some wasteland scaver with no name.

Dude promptly dodged and weaved, happily using one of those hatchlings as a stepping stone and began to jog away with a surprisingly casual pace. Leading the mob of crabs…straight into another Supermutant Camp. 

The two parties quickly became occupied with each other as he sauntered off, humming quietly. Well, he didn’t manage to completely escape unnoticed- one of the hounds that happened to notice him charged. 

The green dogs, smelled just as bad as their masters, and depending on their masters- could be just as stupid as far as he’s observed.  As this one was, galloping after him with murderous abandon. 

“Stupid mutt.” He sighed with a harsh breath, drawing Kellogg’s .44 and picking up the pace to round a corner…

And bringing the revolver to bare on the incoming skull. If the dog was smart enough to realize it’s mistake, it didn’t show as it made it’s lunge at him; a sharp bark from the revolve and a careful sidestep as the dog landed and tumbled.

It had a thick skull, but while it was stunned, he wandered over- and placed the hot muzzle into the wound and let it bark again. 

The nasty mutt twitched and he holstered the gun again. Ammo for such a fine gun was scarce, but the power it had for such a ‘ small ’ weapon was impressive. Now, he slipped away from the fighting, humming slightly- 

“... Hound blood is disgusting.” He quietly noted with disdain, upon realization he’d been splattered with it- ruining the crisp white shirt he’d managed to find some days ago in the castle. And it’s smell was somehow worse than the boardwalk, where the Mirelurks and mutant and many unsavory wasteland occupants lived- and died…

That’s one thing he missed... dry cleaning . 

He looked ahead, only to find himself upon a scene of a battle that had gone less than successfully for raiders, a handful of perished ghouls scattered in bits around them. The standoff, seemed rather unimpressive…

But it looked like they’d been standing guard...and since he was lost anyway, he didn’t feel like this side stop would be terrible detrimental to his mission. So after a brief pause to look ammunition, and other useful bobbles he could carry, he opened the red door slowly as he could and stepped inside.

Two raiders were talking, peeking through a doorway cautiously at the end of the entryway. 

“Do you think we’ll catch this Pickman Psycho?” One asked, the other shook his head slightly. “The slippery bastard got away before...” The first one spoke again, “But Slab won’t leaving a man breathing after he’s hunted our crew…” 

Dude drew closer, curiously, he’d quietly drawn his 10mm (while it was less destructive than his revolver, it had a far greater abundance of ammo for dealing with pests). 

“I heard Pickman skinned Roy alive after he snatched him and let the rats get him.” Raider One whispered, shuddering. “Gives me the creeps thinking about it.” 

“No joke. The faster we clip this asshole- the better..” 

Dude was only a few steps behind the two when one finally noticed, yelling on top of his lungs while he kindly ventilated the other one's head.  He stepped side ways, catching the wrist of the Raider when he swung his gun around, and gifting him with another hole to breath from. 

His face was splattered with blood, but he didn’t take the time to clean it off, footsteps came rushing down the stairs…

And than startled swearing- than an explosion that sent splinters, dirt and blood raining down on him from the stairway. “Went and forgot their own traps...amusing...” He let out a malicious chuckle, and headed to the bottom of the stairs…

But he stopped, looking into the next room to see several pieces of art of various shades of red…

His curiosity kept him from ascending for a moment, walking in- and examining them. They each had an unfortunate aroma of decaying blood, and old paint; but if one set aside such terrible smells- they could be considered well done pieces of abstract…

He than shrugged, and went to leave...and not so gracefully almost tripped on a corpse..

One slightly older than the ones that had freshly decorated the walls, however, not as old as the ones that were posed on pikes. This, he was unimpressed with; the flies were few but buzzing loudly and irritated his nerves…

The posed bodies already looked like they were picked clean- in more than one sense- but the slightly newer corpse…

Prompting him to check his pockets, helping himself to the raider’s ammo- and discovering a holotape...There was a hastily scribbled title, “Message for Jack” on it’s label but he decided he’d listen to it once he figure out what this place was…

Besides disgusting. Like most places.  

He made his way upstairs, past the splattered remains of one raider on the stairway; and another was crawling into a bedroom, dragging his legs and trying not to scream. A considerable pain tolerance that came with a likely psycho addiction...Dude was merciful enough to finish the man off as he passed, blasting open the back of his skull. 

The next room, littered with overturned furniture and a bed torn up to it’s old rusted springs. Dude searched it, placing the lightest, and most valuable salvage in his bag to deposit at whichever settlement he happened upon first. 

Shortly after - he found himself making his way back down the building, through a hole in the wall - he heard more shouting, the pests were less than pleased by the fact their comrades were dead… 

He got rid of them quickly, and descending into the underbelly of Boston…
No surprise, more raiders - and more traps and now turrets to catch whoever this Pickman was…this gentlemen must’ve irritated them quite thoroughly. 

Dude remembered the strong disdain he had for soggy shoes as he walked through the place, ending these parasites as he came across them for the trouble they’ve caused him. For making him have to go further through the bloody sewers to find an answer he didn’t really care about knowing. 

When he finally heard people talking; he slowed to his usual saunter to listen…
“Finally got you Pickman…” A raider said, sounding proud of himself; “...Thought you could hunt and torture our people to your hearts content...”

Dude came to a ledge as the raider pointed a gun at a man in a old suit; arms raised. “I’m going to enjoy killing you-”
A mistep, and some ruined brick fell from the ledge to the floor below - causing the group within the room to look away from their target - even the shooter, making him miss.
Amatuers . 

The suited man leapt forward at the raider, knife drawn - as Dude stepped off the ledge and returned fire to the others in the room.
It wasn’t an impressive fight. 

Nothing to rememberable other than the other man stood up from the corpse of his attacker, wiping the blood on his rags. “...That was close, thank you.”
Dude regarded him for a moment, and both were silent…
A predator recognizing a superior predator...  
“Those people deserved a fate far worse than death...” 

He didn’t care, he looked around the room - eyes landing on a bobblehead as he asked a question; “I’m sure they disagreed with your assessment.”
Pickman chuckled lightly, “You could say that - though they mostly disagreed with my hobby of collecting their heads.” 

“An amusing hobby.”

The man hummed, “Let me repay you with a gift…”
Dude’s attention returned to him idly, “Oh?”

“If you visit my house again - look deeply within my painting, ‘Picnic for Stanley’ and you will find my gratitude.” Pickman extends a hand, holding a key out to Dude. “You’ll need this.” Dude took it, and they exchanged a nod - and the other gave him a wave and headed out with a familiar saunter.

And with a shrug Dude picked up a magazine and stuffed the bobblehead into his bag; Princess loves them and followed the path the artist took to a ladder… and he returned to the Commonwealth’s surface. Half tempted to not bother coming back … 

However, Dude Pendleton was never one to turn away gifts from those who were grateful without cause.
So he wandered back, and found the painting Pickman named - and pulled it off the wall. 

Inside was a simple but elegant blade, laying on top of a note with a red heart and all it said -

Thank you, Killer.

Chapter Text

The power armor is painfully snug, if one could believe that - with Princess being as tall as she was, the frames were just a little off but she slipped into it like it was a ball gown. Proctor Ingram had been impressed, running through the checks without her instruction…
The others had been interesting, Quinlin with his comic obsession - Knight Captain Cade had made her uncomfortable with his questioning…
She’d found an excuse to get out of the physical exam for now. Princess didn’t want a stranger touching her in any way, not even for medical reasons. 

Princess flexes her arm, and she finds herself shaking her head. “Ingram, this is all too tight.”
One could argue that these suits were made for men who were six feet in height, give or take a few inches that could be adjusted.
But Princess was almost a foot taller than most men.
The suit she had in the military had to be modified for her once they decided she was the best to use it - extensions to the frame that were more or less slapped together. They had to repair them a lot with how hard she was on it.
Ingram let out a sigh, “Well, I can’t just make modifications right now-”
“Then I’ll just have to go without a suit.” She says, climbing back out - rubbing her shoulders where the steel had started to press hard into them. “I know you’re already busy, Proctor Ingram; if you want - you could deliver this to The Castle and my husband can do the modifications.” 

“...Your husband knows how to work on Power Armor?”
“Most certainly.” And if he didn’t, Princess knew he’d look into it - he was already personally seeing to her wardrobe and her armor. “He’s clever like that.” She smiles and the Proctor looks at her skeptically - but she shakes her head.
“Sure, I’ll push the requisition through.” 

“Thank you~ the Quartermaster is this way?” Princess asks, and the woman waves her off - and she could only take that as a yes.

She introduces herself to Quartermaster Teagan, their exchange is fairly brief - she hands over caps, he gives her a few more pieces of combat armor to make up for her lack of Power Armor.
As she hands over the battered metal chest piece.
“You work with the Minutemen, right?” Teagan asks, examining the piece and grumbling a bit - it was probably better for scrap than recommissioning. As she attaches her new armor to her body, she nods. “Yes, Sir.”
He considers, and leans on the counter. “I was wondering, could you strike up a deal with some of the nearby settlements to help feed the Brotherhood?”

Princess tightens her strap and looks at the Quartermaster, “I’ll consider it, people don’t have much to spare though.” She was tempted to bring up the extortion attempts…
But this isn’t the time…
“That’s all I can ask, Knight.” He says, and the two give a half hearted salute - before Princess left to join Paladin Danse to deploy.

Danse gave her a nod, though he looked a little confused when she didn’t reemerge from the bay in a suit.
Elder Maxson stood rigidly on the deck as the Paladin double checked his weapons. 

“Now that you’re familiar with the Pyrdwens crew, ready for your next assignment, Sister?” He asks, and she gives him a raised brow, but nods. “Yes, Elder.”
“Then let me get right to it, shall we?” Maxson half turns, “Look over there - 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.” The Elder gives her a rather disgusted look that felt genuine - Princess can agree they smell disgusting, but she couldn’t smell them this close…
“To make matters worse, they’re sitting on a massive stockpile of Fat Manshells we can use in our campaign.”
She grimaced, it was bad enough the green men were mean - they could use heavier armaments than humans with far less penalties.
“I want you to go in there, wipe out everything that moves and secure that stockpile.”
She looks down at Fort Strong, at the nest far below - how dangerous it could be if they decided to use it.
“Consider it done, Elder Maxson.” She answers, and Danse follows with a prideful tone - “It would be our pleasure to wipe this filth off the face of the earth, Sir.” 

Elder Maxson nodded with an approving look on his face, giving them both a strong salute across his chest, which Princess and Danse mirror. “Go, carry the Brotherhood's message to them - and wipe those dirty mutants out. Dismissed .”
Princess climbed back into the bird, Danse getting secured - and she settled behind the mini-gun. 

Last time she used one was at the Museum of Freedom, it had been a thrilling introduction to the dangers of the wasteland…
One that now had a permanent reminder on her jawline - a burn that stretched up to the joint.
But, Princess got comfortable, hands at the ready to start firing as the vertibird disengaged from the massive blimp and flew towards Fort Strong.

It was loud, and she wished she had some better protection for her ears as they started to spiral around the little island.
Mutants swarmed out like insects, screaming and taking pot shots as the craft took a steady path. 

But one in particular stood out; because it was huge - towering above the ruined buildings and wielding what looked like a fire hydrant at the end of it’s pipe; it roars and shakes its fist at them. “ I’ll try to keep in your sights, Ma’am!” Yelled the pilot over the noise and Princess pulled the trigger.
Princess couldn’t hear anything else while it fired - pouring rounds into this things hide, but it didn’t retreat - it started grabbing rubble and flinging it at the craft with far too many close calls.
The gun began to glow as she holds it to it’s target, letting out a scream of satisfaction when the Behemoth finally drops. “ Hell yeah!” The pilot says as the gun gets a chance to cool, searching for the clearest landing zone.
“ I’m going to find a spot to set us down! Than hightail back to the Pyrdwen for repairs!”

They weren’t done- as the pilot spun the ship around to land, Princess had more targets to shoot at and proceeded to spray the entire landing zone with bullets.
It was good to know that regardless of their size and strength, they were no match for a mini-gun. 

One by one, the Super Mutants showed themselves - and each time, they’d meet the teeth of the Brotherhood’s gun, falling into bloody heaps. When none presented themselves for more than a minute, then Princess and Danse dismount - allowing the Vertibird to take back off.
Still none appeared.
“I think we’ve secured the grounds - let’s get inside before that changes.” Danse says, and Princess pulled her pistol from her hip; while she could go toe to toe with a mutant - it wasn’t always a great idea when there was more than one. 

“Lead the way, Paladin Danse.” She says, and the armored Paladin takes the lead with feet stomping over falling buildings and smashing through muddy puddles; mixing with mutant blood.
“God, they smell awful.” She says, covering her nose as they hurry to the only remaining building. 

Once inside, Dance slows down - “Mind your step, lots of debris here.” Princess nods, and holds her pistol tightly; wishing that she’d grabbed a shotgun or something equally destructive while she was talking to Quartermaster Teagan, the 10mm didn’t feel like it had the firepower she needed.
Danse was armed with a laser rifle, they didn’t have to search real long to find the opposition - but what Princess found worse was all the random gore bags and piles in carts; she hadn’t really looked when she’d come across them before but no wonder they smelled terrible.
It made Princess wanted to gag.

The fight kept her distracted thankfully… 

It was grueling, just like their first ‘mission’ together but far messier - these things screaming at the pair as they proceed through the first floor, looping around to an office.
It yields some scrap, some ammo… and a key, Princess added to a keyring she’s fashioned to her bag. It’s starting to get noisy…

The descent further into the complex took them down another floor at least, and to more gore and more mutants - and mutant dogs.
Princess hadn’t fought these before; the creatures bounding at her with an echoey bellow and all she could do was fall back. One leaped onto her and the other tried to chew apart her leg, she could feel it’s teeth pressing onto the combat piece and tried to shake her leg free.
Princess yells in pain, the beast chopping on her arm ( also thankfully, armored but still ) - Danse came to her rescue with a kick, sending the one on her leg tumbling to the side and taking the time to burn holes into its flesh.
And Princess got the one on her arm familiar with her pistol.
It’s breath is rancid , she discovers when she rams the gun into it’s mouth past her armor and emptying the clip. 

Princess pushed herself into cover, laying flat, using the paneled railing to shield herself from incoming fire as Danse takes a protective position at the base of the stairs.

It divided fire; and made short work of the mutants. 

“Why is everything so gross .” Princess complained when silence finally filled the air; rolling onto her back and glowering at the ceiling. Paladin Danse returns to her side, his stomping makes her look at him - and he extends a hand. “How’s your leg?”
She looks down, and beside the armor being scarred from teeth - it looked fine. Hurt like hell, both where the thing bit and at her hip were it tried to disconnect her leg.
“Probably bruised, my arm took the worst of it…” She holds it up, on either side - blood blossomed from teeth marks, the material glistening from slobber.
Once standing, she tested weight on her attacked leg and when nothing screamed - she looked for the chems in her bag.
“Let’s make sure the armory is still secured, and then we can report back.” He says, and she nods - giving herself another injection and taking a rag out to wipe her arm off.
She was going to smell disgusting when she heads back…
The two of them finish checking every room, he scoffs a little when she starts collecting ‘junk’ again but he doesn’t stop her. 

“Look at this place…” He says, looking back at the carnage they’ve caused. “You must hate these Mutants as much as I do.” He says, once they’ve made certain it was all clear.
Princess looks up at him, then away at the corpses - disgust on her face.
“...I guess I do.”
Hate. She didn’t like the feeling that settles in her stomach, but what else can she describe it as?
These things did something unforgivable.
They pushed her back to chems… now she was fighting the urge to use them again…
They made Dude upset because of that. 

“I wish all of Mankind shared the same idea. These monstrosities are just another example of man blindly taking a step forward, only to stumble back two.” The Paladin pulls his helmet off,  showing his teeth as he regards the corpses.
“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 Synths.”
Princess looks away from them, and to the armory - full of Fat Man shells; uneasy being this close to this many explosives. 

“I’ve seen what these Super Mutants do to people, can you imagine what the Synths will do if they get the upper hand. It’ll be Armageddon all over again.” He says, the two of them starting to move back out as he continues to talk. “...It might even be the end of everything we hold dear.”
Danse sighs, “I don’t mean to bore you with my rhetoric, I just want you to understand how important these missions are.”

Princess fixes her hat as they exit the building, looking at the sky before saying softly. “I do understand, Danse.”
Did she?
“Anyway, enough of this. What’s important -” He says as she faces him. “- is that you got the job done and secured the ordnance.”
Princess smiles a little, and Danse adds. “You should head back to the Prydwen, I’m sure Maxson will want to debrief you as soon as possible. Dismissed, Knight Pendleton.”
Princess nods, vertibirds were already flying in to secure the area from further infestation.
She takes one of the return flights back, waving enthusiastically to Paladin Danse as they lift off - and as quickly as she left, she was back again.  

Returning to Maxson’s side was met with praise; “Excellent work at Fort Strong, soldier.”
Princess, covered head to toe again in some monster's blood - grins - and gives him a salute. 

“ Glad to be of service, Elder Maxson. Now… about that meeting with The General? ”

Chapter Text

Twisting his new blade around his hand, admiring its weight - or lack of it when he came across the red line again, at the foot of Paul Revere's statue at the Old North Church. 

He looks to the brick wondering at its familiarity, and then at the sky- towards the massive blimp as multiple vertibirds flew back and forth from it like a hive. 

“Mm, I wonder how that’s coming along.” Turning back towards the ruins of Boston, and finding himself sighing lightly at the dark storm clouds that hung low. “Well, I guess I’ll be stopping here for now. Till this passes.” 

Dude gives the white paint little attention, vaguely aware it was in the shape of a lantern as he slips inside ahead of the downpour. 

The roof is intact enough to keep the rain out, puttering on the shelter with a steady beat. He pulls a rag from his pocket, and wipes sweat and lingering remains from his visit at ‘Pickman's Gallery .’ 

The attempt to be clean is short lived, gargling and snarls grow from the dusty remains of the old church, and he sides steps a ghoul - drawing out his new knife and slicing through the nearest limb effortlessly.
It’s not the last; dodging and weaving. These things don’t have the slightest survival instinct as he cuts one, two, three and four down to size before he’s left alone… 

He almost misses the next lantern symbol, swamped by the fluids oozing out of the separated limbs. It points him to a hallway… 

Dude had never visited the old church before the bombs fell, neither had Princess - but it was something she’d wanted to do when Shaun was a little older… tour Boston’s history one day.
But alas, the only need for history now - was a reminder not to repeat it.

Dude hums a little, the next ghouls were barely noteworthy - flicking the blood off the blade when his eyes see a red wire trailing along the ceiling. 

“Peculiar.” He continues, till he finds himself at a dead end, where the wire ends at a wall and a plate in the wall. He flips the black blade, and presses its handle against the center - ‘The Freedom Trail’ - and felt it depress. 

Dude tilts his head like a cat, and sheaths the blade to investigate the button further; hands toying with the surface to discover that the outer ring moves. “Oooh, it spins.” He says with mild amusement, spinning it around a few times before it occurs to him the plate connected to the brick trail outside. 

“1-R…” He hums, before twisting it experimentally a few times more. Dude lost track of time as he fiddled with the mechanism, steadily figuring out the code by the sounds it makes. 

“...R. A. I.L… oh, surely it isn’t that easy?” He presses it down as he spins over the final letters. “Railroad, right - wasn’t there something about that…” Rumor mostly, heard in the bustling market of Diamond City, 

The wall beside him makes a loud thunk before sliding out of the way. Peering around the edge of the wall into the deeper darkness of Boston’s underground, he considers it - then with a whistle starts strolling down into it. 

Dude expected the spotlights; he just didn’t close his eyes soon enough for the seeding spots to appear when they flashed on - three figures standing nearly completely washed out by it. But he could see the outline of the mini gun to the left and the right most figure was kneeling - likely also with a gun pointed at him. 

A woman’s voice calls out from the light, “Stop right there.”
As his eyes adjust, and he contemplates shooting it out just to hasten the process - the woman becomes clearer as she continues her prompt. “You’ve went through a lot of trouble for this meeting, but before we go any further - I need to know - who the hell are you? ” Dude almost laughed, the woman probably thought she was intimidating- and maybe the mini gun would have been a nice touch  if it was already spinning up. 

“See, to want to meet you - I’d have to actually know who you are?” He says with a undertone of amusement

The woman frowned at his response, and she motions behind him. “Bullshit, there is no way you just happened to guess the password to the secret door?” 

“You’re kidding right?” Now he clearly laughed, “A bright red wire, to an obviously ‘ secret ’ wall next a decoder ring also connected to the red wire??” The two guns looked at each other, the one with the heavy weapon looked trigger happy. “Even with only the first letter, there were sixteen letters and only so many combinations that I could make.”
The woman looks terribly unimpressed by his knowledge, and he almost adds how noisy the mechanism was…. “Give me one good reason why-“ 

Some noise gets her attention and she looks away from Dude, half turned to the dark behind them. “Deacon? Where have you been?”
A man slips out of the shadows, plain jeans and shirt - dark sunglasses over his eyes. “Looks like you’re having a party, what gives with my invitation?” 

He swaggers up beside the woman, and looks towards Dude a moment before she says with a snap, “I need intel, who is this?” 

Deacon sizes Dude up for only a second, “This, Desdemona - is the new Leader of the Minutemen, cleared the Castle out a week ago. Everyone’s talking about him topside - he’s kind of a big deal. ” Desdemona opens her mouth and Deacon holds out his hands, stopping her, creating the silent drumroll effect . “...And, he’s the one who bailed Nick Valentine out of a jam with Skinny Malone.” 

And he continues , interrupting her again to step down towards him and offering a hand to shake. “And as far as I’m concerned, the Railroad owes you a crate - no, a truckload of Nuka-Cola for what you did to Kellogg. He was enemy number one.” Dude doesn’t hesitate to clasp hands and give his signature smile. 

“Happy to help of course-“ 

“Deacon, are you seriously vouching for him?” Desdemona seems fairly surprised, even more when this Deacon turns and nods - adding enthusiastically. “Yes, definitely. Trust me, this is a guy we want on our side. ” 

The woman reaches up and pinches the bridge of her nose as she sighs, “Fine.”

The gunmen on either side relax, the right one standing and taking a more relaxed stance with his rifle while the mini gun wielding woman turns away looking annoyed. Deacon faces Dude once again, “Hope you can forgive them, we had a pretty big shake up recently.” 

“Oh really?” Dude asks, “The caution would be understandable if that’s the case.” He looks back to the opening he came in. “Most people would be under surveillance once they’ve started the Freedom Trail, but it looks like you drunkenly zigzagged through Boston with that path of corpses you’ve left. Made it a little difficult for the look outs to keep an eye on you...”
Deacon watches as the trio disappear further into the ‘crypt’ and Dude hums, “My plan was to head back to Diamond City, to speak to the Detective but I was waylaid. Obviously.” Deacon laughed loudly, “Waylaid? Really- you got some really fancy words for getting distracted.” Dude continued to give him a thin smile, but Deacon appeared to be competent at least - though if what they implied was true about the general education of the commonwealth… 

Well… that will have to be dealt with later .

Deacon taps his foot and laughs a bit more, “If you’re worried about them causing problems - don’t worry. I vouched for you.”
“And that means a great deal I assume.” Dude replies, and Deacon half nods. “You didn’t get shot, right? Still-“ He leans in and says in an inconspicuous whisper. “Would consider it a close personal favor if you didn’t sell us out to the Institute, thanks.” 

They regard each other, Deacon giving him another look over - he kept his poker face cool. Dude was still looking amused… “So, why did you vouch for me?” 

“In our little outfit, it’s my job to know things. And with everything you’ve done so far - it’s clear you're capable. A dangerous enemy. And I’m betting, a valuable ally.” 

“That’s a lot of trust you’ve put on someone you’ve just met, can't just be faith?” 

“Ah, well. The shake up I mentioned- more like a crisis - so a bit teeny, weeny in desperate need for more members.” Deacon almost rubs his neck, as Dude lets out a soft, ‘Ah’ in response. 
“I don’t know if we can’t trust you yet, but I feel like we can. Otherwise, we’d probably be playing the ‘get to know you game’ a bit longer. But we don’t really have that luxury.”

He crosses his arms “Dez will probably want to make you a Tourist, somebody who does odd jobs around here.” His new companion sighs between his teeth… “What a waste.”
“Worried about training me?” Dude supplies, and Deacon nods - “Training anyone is costly, in time and manpower.”
“It would be if you were some hick from the wasteland that didn’t know a rocket launcher from his ass. But you’re not.”
“Most certainly not.” Dude scoffed, and Deacon laughed again - it’s vaguely positive but Dude can catch a fake one from orbit. “I bet, given what I’ve heard about you - you just need a few pointers and a target . And it so happens I’ve got a job for that.”

“You have my attention, Deacon.”
Dude’s trip back to Diamond City would have to wait, it appears - Mr. Valentine and the reporter Ms. Wright would probably be wondering where he went given he said he’d come see them once he’d settled things at the Castle. This, for the moment, was more promising a venture. 

The more eyes and ears he had around the Commonwealth - the easier it would be to find this Institute and his son . 

“So, this job- to big for me but perfect for the two of us. You help me out - it’ll turn a few heads and Dez will let you into the fold.”
“Then if you ever get into a bind, your buddies in the Railroad have your back.”

Dude hummed, “And the job?”
“So, upfront. The only thing I can really say is it’s a wild and dangerous ride - but probably nothing new to someone like you.”
Dude’s let out a slow, but audible breath from his nose - “How informative , sign me up.” He replies sarcastically, causing Deacon to give him a cheeky grin.
“ Perfecto ! Let’s meet up by the old freeway by Lexington. I’ll fill you in once you get there...” 

Dude tilts his head, and Deacon waves him off. “I’ve got some things to take care of here - so I’ll catch up once I’m done.”
After a few seconds of consideration, Dude bobs his head. “Very well.” 

It would give him a chance to wrap things up with Nick, or maybe find Princess in the meanwhile which was more desirable than traipsing through Boston’s ruins. 
“Then I will see you there, Deacon.”
Deacon points him back the way he came, the door shutting behind him and locking into place once more and he headed back to the main room of the Church.

It’s still raining. 

Instead of going out; he settles in for the time being - he refuses to be soaked and then deal with all the hassle that comes with travelling the wasteland.
So, while he waited - he had a bit to eat, to drink - cleaned himself up some more before he began messing with his Pipboy.

It was quite functional, he was entertained by it’s record of his ‘health’ - he wondered exactly how it was keeping track. But after he worked with his map for awhile…
It wasn’t perfect, given that some streets were completely swallowed up by the ruins of civilization, bridges were broken and some places swamped by water; it was readable however and that was important. 

It would be several hours, if he followed one of the old highways back to Lexington - and that’s including the time spent fighting off ravenous critters.
He lit up a cigarette as he considered what he could do.
Ah, Princess never liked it when he smoked - and for the most part, the habit was mostly for socializing amongst others when she wasn’t present. Or when he feels frustrated with something.

For almost a year, before the bombs dropped - he hadn’t touched cigarettes. He might have never picked them up again if the world had stayed in one piece.
Then again, Princess might have never touched the chems again either…
This thought makes him regard the nicotine between his fingers - blowing the smoke out of his nose. 

This world would do better for her, and he would break it till it did.
With a flick, the glowing ember burning lightly into the corpse of a ghoul as he lays back to stare at the ceiling… listening to the rain. Zoning out to it’s steady noise like radio static… unbothered by the sound of the storm as it rolled overhead.

When he finally blinked, his mind caught up with the sense of time that he had lost when he fell asleep. He sits up, ignoring the pain in his back from sleeping on a pew and pushes himself to his feet.
It's been hours …

He picks his pack up, rubbing his face and noting the faintest start of stubble - it takes him weeks to grow hair and he’s never found the appeal of growing it out. When he returned home, he’d have Princess help get rid of it.
The thought of some personal time causes a small smile to touch his face as he steps out into the sunshine.

By the time he had gotten over to Lexington, the sun was hanging low - and Dude had more or less collected more gear to distribute amongst the Militia; as he had no use for any of the leather and metal scraps Raiders called armor. Leaving a trail of corpses from Boston’s north side, all the way through the wasteland to Lexington’s old highway - if anyone was trying to follow him; he was easier to find than ugly on a super mutant.
Heh.
Dude arrives at the meeting point - and for a second, he thought the Agent was late to his own rendezvous till the wasteland hobo stood up from under a tree.
He regards the hobo for a few seconds, waiting for him to speak when Deacon motions to his attire. “Like the disguise? Wastelander Camo.”
Deacon clears his throat, and gives Dude a gruff tone that does little to disguise his distinct voice. “This is my pile of garbage, Asshole. Back off.” 

But he laughs, “Good right? You’re lucky I didn’t do one of my face swaps too.”
“Surgery?”
Deacon nods, pleased with Dude’s question - “I put myself under the knife every year or two, new face, new body - ya know - full makeover. Keeps our enemies guessing.”
“Fascinating. You’ll have to give me the name of your surgeon.” 

Deacon snorted, but jumps to the point.
“So, about the job - The Railroad has only been recently using the Old North Church. Before that, we were set up under Slocums Joes. Pretty nice set up till the Institute found us…”
A crisis, he said. Lots of casualties, relocation some distance aways.

“The survivors didn’t have time to grab anything, so we’re going back in to grab something important we had to leave behind.”
“Must be important to risk a veteran agent to return to a place the Institute is likely watching.”
The other nods, “But-”
“I’m sure what follows is what you’ll consider, strategic ignorance . No need to keep repeating that, I get the gist.” Dude cuts him with a wave, “Shall we get started then?”
The Agent nodded, “We’ve got another tourist nearby, he or she has some intel on the base. So let’s pump ‘em for information before we dive in.” 

He turns to the broken overpass, and heads up a ramp made with a fallen bus - and keeps talking.
Deacon would’ve made a great politician in the old days...maybe would’ve  been decent competition for him. Might’ve had more substance to his words too. 

“So, we’ll be looking for railsigns - symbols the Railroad uses to communicate with each other.” The pair make their way up, “And if you like that - we’ve got signs, countersigns, dead drops and a secret handshake .” Dude gives him a slightly quirked eyebrow when they stop at the top - and Deacon admits with a laugh and a shrug. “Okay, maybe the secret handshake never caught on…But you know, the whole works for an organization like ours.”
“Impressive.”

Deacon takes the lead, mumbling more to himself about the Tourist leaving a sign for them to follow when he spots it. “Here we go - look.” The Agent points out the painted mark to Dude, and files it away as it’s explained to him.
“An arrow in the center indicates a direction, which means the Tourist is up ahead.” 

They walk the broken highway, and follow the signs - fight some more ghouls - Deacon explains a couple more of the symbols and their meaning. “And this one, with a plus in the center? Means there’s an ally nearby - hopefully our Tourist.”
Deacon stops him before they can continue ahead, a figure just in sight - “You take point on the conversation. And whatever he says, just say - ‘mines in the shop’. Trust me.”
“Trust is a two way street, Deacon.”
They stare at one another - smiles full of teeth, like a snake staring down a mongoose. It’s hard to describe the lack of hostility, just recognition between them - when a pair of talkers realize they’ve put themselves into a fighting ring. Someone would lose if they continue. 

But Dude walks ahead, to meet this ‘Tourist’ - with Deacon trailing behind him. Humming, and walking with the confidence you’d expect out of someone called ‘The General.’
The vagrant tourist looks away from his pile of scrap and looks at him - tone and body language excited as he speaks. “Oh thank god! Do you have a geiger counter? Do you have a god damn geiger counter?”
“Mine is in the shop.” He speaks the countersign, casually as if they were discussing the weather - while the Tourist remains animated.
“Who the hell is he?” He says, pointing to Deacon behind him. “HQ said they were only sending one agent, not two!”

Dude glances over his shoulder, to see Deacon hold his hands up - to change his posture a bit - even stammering a bit as he speaks. “S-sorry, I’m new . He’s just showing me the ropes.” Backing off promptly to give them some space.
The gruff man scoffs, and looks at Dude - and keeps a level but loud tone. “S’lright-  but the Wall is my witness, I thought I was dead! It’s about goddamn time you bastards got here!” 

“Well, tell me what’s going on.” Dude says, keeping his own body language neutral - even as the Tourist remains excited.
“I signed on for some light recon! But that Slocum Joes of yours is crawling with goddamn chrome-domed sons-of-bitches!” The man looked upset, and continued ranting - sounding more and more irritated by the information he delivered. “Fronts fortified to hell and back - they’ve placed mines all over the goddamn place-”
He says goddamn a lot…

“Fascinating, a minefield?”
“Yeah, yeah. The mother of all minefields - I couldn’t draw you a map even if I tried.” 

“And chrome-domed, synths I assume?”
That made the Tourist a bit confused, his reply is less aggressive as he explains. “Ya’know; them early model synths? Looked like metal wrapped around metal innards. You seem them here and theres, doing who-knows-what for the Institute.”
Dude had not seen these, Gen 1s and 2s - but Princess had described them more as mangled mannequins than metal shells. That came after she broke them apart. 

“Thank you for your service.” Dude, offers a hand to shake and the man takes it - and he says a bit more subdued. “I hope it helps, I really do.”
“But as soon as it’s safe - I’m getting the hell out of here. So, if you need anything else - better ask soon.”
“No, I don’t think I will. Have a good day.” Dude says, spinning on his heel - returning to Deacon.
“Ah, well isn’t Ricky just a ray of sunshine - think he’s telling the truth?” Deacon says as he approaches, the tourist scurrying past like a radroach when a light shined on him.
“The faint anomia scent of fear, argues in his favor.” Dude watches ‘Ricky’ hurry back off the bridge as Deacon snorts. “Heh, if that’s the case - and we take his words at face value. It means, mines, synths and other fun and exciting prizes. I say we take the back entrance.”

“Slocum Joes has a back entrance?” Dude asks, mildly amused as they head off the broken highway again. “Escape tunnel, yeah - doesn’t everyone have one of those?” He says with a laugh, followed quickly by a softer grateful one. “But seriously, thank god for that escape tunnel. Without it - there wouldn’t be any Railroad left.”

Dude and Deacon make their way into the building - skimming the fine edge of the mine field - gracefully unnoticed by the turrets placed in the windows.
They kept talking though, back and forth - fencers with words. Even during the brief fights that would come up; it felt as natural as breathing for the both of them and it quickly became more of a competition between them. Who was less phased .

But all and all, Dude learned more of the Railsigns - which he will have to remember should he cross them again on his travels.
These Synths seem to have less of a survival instinct; following orders to remain on alert and guard the place despite the absence of prey and obvious destruction of their beings.  

He learned about a type of Synth called a Courser; the Institutes best hunters apparently and were the leading force that chased the Railroad out.
Then they stepped into the DIA’s property, the faded American banner tile tread underfoot, being stained by the fluids of the synths as they walked forward.
Deacon makes some comment about how this wasn’t normal for Slocum Joe’s. 

“ No , really. I wouldn’t have guessed.” Dude thinks with a bit of sarcasm, making his way up the steps - letting another pile of scrap tumble down them as he did. Deacon stopped when the pair finished cleaning the office out.
Finally, he felt obliged to tell them why they were here. 

A prototype made by Doctor Carrington, who he hadn’t had the pleasure to meet yet - sounded fascinating; so with a few more destroyed synths and a vault door.
Deacon opens the door with a passcode, Stanley Carrington. Roughly ‘Safety of Patients Supreme Law’.
Entertaining .
They found the Railroads coveted prize.
And a corpse, the smell makes him breath sharply out of his nose with distaste as Deacon steps in quickly…

“Ah, damn…” He mutters, kneeling by the body even as he started rummaging through his pockets, “Explains where Tommy Whispers went - died protecting our secrets.”
He pats him down, and Dude scanned the surprisingly sparse room - till his thoughts were interrupted by Deacon standing, checking it’s clip, and offering the small pistol to him.
“Tommy would’ve wanted someone to have this…our best Agents get to carry Tinker Tom’s work.” Dude takes it, it’s much smaller than Kellogg’s pistol, which was heavy as he holstered it. 

It was so natural, the movement to turn and fire into the Synth that had attempted to sneak in after them, baton in hand - prepared to throw its weight into the back of his skull.

But it wouldn’t get the attempt, the bullet - with a quiet bark shattered the top of it’s metal skull and caused it to land rather loudly into the shelves beside Tommy Whispers smelly remains.
“Well, uh. Let’s get Carrington’s prototype - you hand it over to Desdamona and you’ll be right as rain.” 

It’s not that difficult to find, whatever it’s supposed to be - it even stands out amongst the multiple stealth boys they’d managed to accumulate. Which he adds to his bag without a slightest consideration for Deacon, or the Railroad - considering it pay ment for his time.
“The elevator should be at the end of the hall, and easy to power up… might have to clear our way out of here though.”

“Should be simple enough.” He says, his new pistol still in hand - prototype secured. The mission was complete…

The exit through the old donut shop was as straightforward as Dude imagined it to be - gen 1s and turrets that present little challenge still between the pair of them.
“And now, what about that minefield?” Deacon says, standing - squinting out into overtaken street to try and spot the subtle mounds and lose mines that the institute left behind.
Dude hums, tapping at his pipboy before giving an idle chuckle. 

“What?” Deacon looked back, just as he watched Dude rip a head away from its frame and walking over to one of those open windows. “Wait- are you ser-” Deacon didn’t really finish, instead, taking the smart route and diving down as Dude tossed that head out into the field like a bowling ball and hiding behind the frame as the explosion rocked the shop.
It’s bone rattling and deafening, any normal and sane person would still be reeling - Deacon certainly was; but as the ringing cleared from his ears. He could see Dude already heading out into the new ditch made from his throw.

Deacon laughs, shaking his head with a lopsided grin as he stood. 

“ Oh yeah, the type of sociopath we need . The Institute is in trouble now.”

Chapter Text

Dude drags Deacon along with him after they deliver the prototype back to Carriginton; as an official member of the Railroad. The Agent - Statesmen - to do ‘tourist’ work. He assumes work, he’s not exactly impressed by the depth of the requests.
So instead of going back to Diamond City as planned, he decided to head back to the Castle; to check on things and see if Princess was done with the Brotherhood business. 

Deacon was a talker, he filled the otherwise silence with his chatter - and Dude pitched in whenever he felt like it, and with a companion - he was able to stay more on track. The pair only zigzagged a few times on the way back along the coast to reach their destination.
“-And I’m telling the guy, ‘Pink paste can’t be good for you’.”
“Usually not.” Dude hums, asking idly out of habit - “And what happened to him?” 

“Last I heard - he went to hunt down more of it - raving like a lunatic for more of it.” Deacon said, with an almost comical whistle, as if that was the end of the joke. Climbing the hill towards the Castle, the raised guard posts occupied - a pair of new faced minutemen perk up from their somewhat bored watch.

“Welcome back General!” One young man pipes off with, the other looks surprised as Dude gives a bit of a wave.
“Good to be back - has Mrs. Pendleton returned?”

“Er- not that I’m aware of Sir, Garvey might know - he’s in the radio shack.” 

A little disappointing but as they move into the Castle, the center grounds have been tilled - the three crops of corn, wheat and mutifruit. They were working on how to settle livestock close by, but for now there was a couple brahmin who belonged to some traders, resting before a journey back out to trade with their settlements…In the middle of the Castle grounds is the antenna - now the more sensitive spots now protected by shelter. The walls are being rebuilt steadily… This place will be a proper fortress. 

More than a handful greets him, a more mild attention compared to the days on the campaign trail as the pair walked to the shack. Dude opens the door, to find Preston Garvey leaned over the radio next to the operator- someone named Rebecca, he thinks. 

“…There’s been a lot of Brotherhood chatter Preston, something about Fort Strong? I’m still working on their code words, but I guess they found something out there.” 

Preston looks over his shoulder and stands straight to give him a salute. “General, welcome back.” 

Dude nods, “Afternoon Preston, something interesting on the radio?” Preston looks at the Operator, and she repeats herself - and Dude took her current cypher to gaze over. He would be distracted by the sound of an aircraft, vertibird blades violently chopping through the air and getting closer.

Dude and Preston step back out into the sun to find two vertibirds, one circled while another looked like it was considering landing. But there really wasn’t anywhere for it to do so - the noise and air pressure bartering crops, spooking the trade Brahmin - Deacon stood fairly close to the center, staring up and only taking a step back as a suit of black and red power armor dropped from it. 

The Brotherhood Knight lifts his laser rifle, sweeping in a careful circle before focusing on Deacon standing there. If not for the absolute cacophony of noise - it would be certain no one knew what to say. 

But Deacon still made the attempt, yelling something that Dude and Preston couldn’t quite hear over the noise - while the sight of a power armor suit was being lowered. 

When that power armor was lowered, resting by the alert Paladin, the other vertibird lifted away long enough for Dude to hear the bullshit that Deacon was spilling. 

“…Of course, of course - and being leader of the Minutemen, and this special delivery is unexpected. But appreciated, so-“ Deacon glanced at Dude, who crossed his arms with a smirk. I want to see where this is going.  

And he kept going for another minute or so before the second vertibird moved into a lower position. Another hook lowering, but it’s cargo is not another suit of armor - Princess was riding down, and once close enough to the ground, she jumps off straight towards Dude.
           “Dude, I’m home!” 

Dude takes her embrace easily, lifting off his feet a bit - though she doesn’t swing him about in front of all the eyes.
When he finally looked up at the Knight with Deacon, he found that he’d removed his helmet - and had been midway considering shaking his hand - then the confusion set in. “ That’s Dude Pendleton.” Princess turned, and with them side by side for everyone to really see. Dude, beside his wife - is obviously, and dramatically shorter.
And Deacon burst out into laughter, though it was clear if it was at Danse’s expense or theirs.

Princess used to be a little self conscious of her height, being six-eleven made her intimidating at parties, definitely gave her challenges growing up. Custom clothes and armor - and as she told the Proctor before sending the suit off; the power armor. She was almost a foot taller than the average man…
A lot of men felt threatened by that fact alone.

Not Dude Pendleton, he stood - at four-nine. Back before the war, sometimes he’d wear shoes that would put him comfortably at five foot even. However, he didn’t do that because he was worried about his height - he grinned at insults and underestimations like a shark.
Other men thought they had the upper hand because he was so much shorter. 

But bravado and panache, the way he carried himself - the way others talked about him, the things he did, the results he left behind.
His fame made him seem larger than life.
Most people didn’t even seem to notice how much shorter he was until situations like this drew attention to it. 

Danse, of the Brotherhood of Steel, looked entirely baffled by this revelation and then, entirely frustrated with it, cherry red spread across his face. “You can’t be serious.” Dude approached, and offered him a hand - “General Pendleton, thank you for escorting my wife home.”
Danse looked down at his hand, then back up at Princess who just grinned at him. He takes a moment, and gives Dude a salute - a fist thumped across the metal chest. “General. I was here to ensure that Knight Pendleton’s powerframe would be delivered because she insisted that you could modify it for her. But I have to return to my post.”
“Of course, and your time is always appreciated.”

The vertibird circles back around again, lower, drowning out any goodbyes that Princess gave as she helped hook him back up into the airborne contraption. She waves until that vertibird out of sight, and leaves the courtyard in a bit of disarray before Dude laughs loudly.
Loud, and startling like a grenade - the way so many people jumped at the sound, Preston Garvey anxiously reached for his gun and Deacon grinned back at him. 

“What’s so funny? I must’ve missed the punchline.”

Dude hooked his arm around his wife's waist, “My beautiful, wonderful wife - is a Knight of the Brotherhood.” Deacon and Preston stares a moment, before the Railroad agents' face brightens with an equally wicked grin. “Oh, I’ve got it.”
Princess looks thoughtful, placing a finger on her chin as she stares after the pair of the birds fly back off to the airport.
“An in.” Deacon says, “You’ll have someone on the inside.”

Princess looks at the Railroad Agent, at Preston Garvey and then at Dude himself, with a slight tilt of her head, the red curls hanging to the side, who smiles in turn up at her. “Princess, would you like to help me with something?”
Sunshine seemed so gray compared to that smile. “Always Dude.”

Princess and Dude walked from the scene side by side, and Preston clears his throat, before hollering to the courtyard. “Alright folks, just another day in paradise - back to business!”
Deacon looks at the Minutemen who for the most part, do so - chatting about what happened with some excitement but this isn’t new for anyone here.
“You can call me Deacon.” He says, standing next to Garvey with his arms across his chest, watching things as they move about as normal. Preston nods, giving him the looks over. “Preston Garvey.”

An awkward silence for a moment, “What do you think of the pair then Mr. Garvey?”
“About the General and his wife?”
“Yes, the General and his wife . What do you think?”

Preston stares, “They’ll change things. They already are.” 

Deacon nods, the pair could see them in the radio shack - talking with the operator. The companions watch as a dog trots up happily to join them.
        “For the better?”
                “ For the better. Or else we’re in for hell of a ride.”

Chapter Text

“What is this place?” Princess asks, looking up at the illuminated sign, wiping her hand across her face -flinching only slightly when Dude puts down a raider behind her. “Combat Zone?”
He holsters the gun once he’s certain it wasn’t smoking anymore, and looks to their companion with some expectations of an answer. 

“A raider club for pit fighting.” Preston says, spinning the crank on his laser rifle; creating the soft glow in the barrel. “The sooner we take care of business and get out of here. The better.” Preston looked at the sign with disdain on his face. Dogmeat sitting by Princess, looking expectedly between the three of them, tongue half hanging out of his mouth in the heat.

Princess spins her bat loosely, looking at Dude. “Should we do something about it?” 

Dude considers, such a play wasn’t so much a den for undesirables as it was a meeting place. And while he wasn’t opposed to a gladiatorial arena… It was the management. 

“Why don’t we take out the trash darling?” He says, swapping to a lighter caliber, but one that had far more ammo on hand, sliding a clip into his 10mm as he takes the lead. “Joining us, Preston?” 

Another crank, bringing his weapon to firing status as he follows behind the couple. “Yes, General.” 

The entry way is cluttered with debris from the old theater - and the old ticket box has been made into a cage. ‘ Rulebreakers .’ 

Two people were currently tied up, one laying on their side - moaning with some sort of pain. The second was still attempting to argue with their restraints, but neither appeared to give the group any thought. 

Tommy’s ‘ rules’ were scribbled on a sign by the door, which three paused briefly to read - and with a shrug, Princess puts her bat in the sling that hangs off her back. Dude doesn’t put his weapon away, choosing to let it rest at his side; finger beside the trigger. 

Preston decided to keep in the back as they entered, finding a table - he pushed over for temporary cover to cover the pair if something went wrong. 

Dude and Princess move further down into the avenue, someone had made quite the effort to make the fighter arena. 

Down on the stage, a cage had been erected - flood lights shining on the active fight.  The Raiders were shouting, booing, clearly excited at the brawl inside the cage.

A red head, taking punches, giving a few before knocking the scaver out cold. The crowd becomes a mixture of drunken cheers and disappointment.
“And that concludes this round - Cait is the undisputed winner!”

As the champion celebrated her victory, Dude and Princess moved closer to the stage - allowing the announcer to notice their presence.
“And who’s this?”
A single spotlight turns to them revealing Princess and Dude, blinding them for a moment as the announcer stammers.
“Wait- who let you- shit- I’d find some cover! Quick!” The speaker dove, joined by the champion behind some boards strapped to the cage.
The music blasting onto the shitty speakers felt all to appropriate as ‘Atom Bomb Baby’ - the first burst of fire rips across the seats in front of them and caused the pair of them to spring into action.
More than a couple ran at them - and Princess steps in front of one lunging with a sharpened pool stick, she grabs the end, twisting in place to rip it from hand while letting ‘Witty Comeback’ swing on the spin to crack him across the face. Dogmeat doesn’t hesitate for a moment, leaping to the fallen foe’s throat with a vicious motion.
The pistol Dude carries is almost unheard under all the noise that begins with the chaos.
He turned and took shots up at the bar to their left as she began brawling with the ones that swarmed from their right. A shotgun roared, sending buckshot over his shoulder - and the shitstain who’d taken the shot from behind the seats behind him became ash with an arc of red energy from the entrance.
They split apart, and Preston gets to watch as Princess hammers into another, percicise swings to knock a man head over heels; if any of them didn’t stay down - there came her loyal dog, bloodied muzzle rushing to finish the job.
Dude didn’t duck for cover, simply walking through the rain of bullets - even as they clipped him, causing the shirt to rip and tear and some places even blossom red. He didn’t seem to give a damn.
Shots came from an upper level, and Preston lined up a shot to take a sniper down - but the arc went wide.
“Damnit-” Three hard cranks behind cover, and he pops up just in time to watch Princess move and call for Dude - lacing her fingers to make a step and Preston watched her toss her husband up onto the walkway, pirouetting midair - drawing that hefty .44 at some point at that, the canon cracking to blast open the snipers head as he ran further back. 

Preston Garvey lined another shot down range, shooting through another that tried to take a knife to Princess’s back.
When he moved his sight back to Dude, he was effortlessly making his way to the sound booth - casually following after a pair of raiders fleeing from his shots.

Dogmeat and Princess were clearing out the ground floor, and Dude was finishing up the upper level - and Preston felt like a third wheel in this whole affair; watching two professional killers at work.
The last thing Preston gets to see is a raider giving his last shot everything he had - pulling out some mean looking knuckles, and Garvey watches Dude Pendleton move like a snake, weaving around strikes with disturbing mobility - before taking his 10mm to his chin and ventilating his head. 

All before the song ended…
The Minutemen stares stunned, watching Princess kneel to Dogmeat - cooing over his dutiful work, wiping away his muzzle as Dude leans on a railing to watch her as if this was a terribly casual affair.
It was in the following silence, that the announcer's voice became clear.
“...You think they’re done out there?”
“Whatcha fuckin’ think Tommy-”

“Hey! We don’t want any trouble! Not anymore at least.” The man calls, followed by a heavily accented woman's voice. “Peak ya damn head up ya fuckin coward!”
“To heck with that - I’m too pretty to go out like-”

Abruptly, a ghoulish man in a suit was pushed out by the redhead who’d been fighting in the arena previously.
He looks over the theater, rubbing at his molted chin with a nervous chuckle. “Damn, that could’ve gone worse.”
The woman crosses her arms, knuckles still bloodied and bruised from the fight. “Heh, I dunno - seemed like quite the show from where I was standin’..”

Preston Garvey makes his way down the center, to join Princess who stood up - she makes her way to the edge of the stage. “Are you fucking high or something?” The ghoul rips off, glaring at the fighter before looking even more frustrated. “Why am I asking - of course you are.”
“Still one the fight, didn’t I?”
“You’re strung out, and getting sloppy - that’s what you are.”

“I- excuse me.” Princess hesitated as the Ghoul continued to yell at the woman. “Course, I suppose you don’t have to worry about that now… it seems these people  put us out of business.”
He looks at Princess, and Garvey - Dogmeat standing on his hind paws looking up at them like a happy-go-lucky dog, even though his fur is still red in spots.
“I’m not sure if I should kiss you, or have my little bird feed you your own entrails.” He says, and Dogmeat’s demenor immediately goes hostile. Growling, the man puts his hands up - the woman hissing, “I told ya to quit callin’ me that.”
Garvey mumbles about how this place was so barbaric.

Dude’s voice cuts through the air, “How about you show some manners, Tommy, was it?” The Ghoul and the woman looked up, Dude stood in the booth above, reloading the revolver idly. “I believe we saved your lives, so a little more gratitude is in order.”
“Grateful? For killing our meal ticket? Excuse me , if I don’t rush to embrace our savior.”
He crosses his arms, Princess smoothing Dogmeats hackles before the hound leaves her side, beginning to sniff around as he continues. “They weren’t the friendliest bunch but keeping those idiots entertained at least kept the lights on.”

The woman, black and blue - sweat was lingering on her skin. Princess looks at her- and feels a familiar itch in skin. Addict. Psycho.
“To hell with ‘em. More’ll come. Just need a quick breather and I’ll be ready to go.”

“A breather? What?” Tommy turns on his ‘little bird’ “So you can slam more of that junk into your arm?” The ghoul shakes his head, “No, no - ya know what I think this was a blessing in disguise.” 

He looked over to Princess, then looked ready to jump out of his skin when he found Dude on the ground floor, gun still drawn.
“You all caught the end of that bout- what did you think of Cait.”
“Brawler, could use some more training.” Dude states, Princess nods, “But she seems pretty tough.”
“Hey- ya fuckin’-” Cait snips, and Tommy waves her off. “Well, I’m in a bit of a predicament.” He motions to the empty theater, “I suddenly got no audience. No audience means I’ve got no caps coming in.”
Ah, time to cut his losses.
Tommy rubs his chin again, looking over Cait with a bit of a regretful look. “Means you’re not an asset, more like a liability.” Despite the attempt to appear cold, he didn’t look like he wanted to actually do this.
“So, what say I let you take over her contract? She goes with you and watches your back?”
Dude looks over Cait with a distinctly, unimpressed look. “And why would I want to take your strung out fighter. I have my wife.”
“You’d be doing me a favor while I get this place sorted back out -”
“Do I not get a fuckin’ say in this? Why the fuckin hell ya tryin so hard to get rid of me Tommy?”
The Ghoul looks frustrated, snapping back - “Truth is Cait- I don’t want to be the one doing color commentary when you finally hit the floor! That junk is making you careless-”
“Fuck you Tommy-” She snarls, and storms off stage - he lets out a sigh, the three of them awkwardly standing there - not including Dude.
“I’ll be back, just think about it.” Tommy follows her off stage, into the old dressing room - they assume, and there's muffled yelling. 

“I don’t see why we should take her, General.” Preston adds after a minute, “She doesn’t seem to want to come with us.”
“I don’t see any point in recruiting her, I don’t relish the position it would put Princess in.” Dude looks to Princess, who looks after the noise before looking back at Dude. “...We could give her a chance, it’s a contract… I could look at it - and if we don’t like her we can always fire her.”
Dude and Princess gaze at one another, someone needed to give Cait the chance to get away from it…
Dude gives a motion, one she’s familiar with conceding to her wishes on the matter. “Of course dear.”
Princess smiles at him, giving him a gentle kiss on the cheek and disappearing after the other two.
A little more arguing progressed but Dude didn’t have to worry about those two hurting her.

Preston puts his rifle over his shoulder, watching as Dude picks up and flips through a magazine idly. “You sure this is a good idea, Sir? Taking her on?”
“Good? No. It is an idea.” Dude hums after a moment, Dogmeat returning to his side with a box of caps, rattling between his teeth. “Good dog.” He takes it, and adds it to his funds and says to Preston with a plain expression on his face. “But I will give her the opportunity, and if this Cait fucks this up with chems. I’ll sever the contract.”
Preston shifts uneasily back on his heels, before Princess comes out again - Cait following in tow with a duffle bag and a sour look.

“Hey Preston -” Princess tosses him a bag, also filled with caps. “For your time.” The Minutemen looked a little surprised, “Thank you Ma’am.”
The minutemen puts the caps in his own bag, looking at Cait with a nervous but polite nod. “Ma’am, I’m-”
“Don’t be fuckin’ callin me ma’am. Just Cait. No pretty nicknames either or I’ll break ya fuckin teeth.”
“...Okay, Cait. Preston Garvey.” He says when she finishes. 

“Now, if you two are finished.” Dude says, kicking a shell casing to the side with his foot before starting to leave the Combat Zone. “Let us go to Diamond City, there’s a detective and a reporter who I’ve been long overdue to see.”
“Want me to come with you Sir?”
“And what about me? Ya just want me to follow along?”

Dude looks back at the pair, then waves a hand dismissively. “Mister Garvey, why don’t you show Cait back to the Castle, I’ll radio if I need either of you. But Princess and I have places to be.”
The brawler spits, muttering in annoyance and Garvey looks exasperated for a moment before taking the lead out of there.

Princess and Dude take their time, stopping at the door to look in and watch as Tommy begin cleaning up, cussing and complaining to himself while he does.
“What are you thinking, Dude?” Princess asks, taking a cloth across his cheek to clean away some blood. “Oh, some ideas, but nothing we can worry about now - but Princess-”
     “Yes, love?”
            “ Be careful , I don’t want you slipping again .”

Chapter Text

Princess was excited to return to Diamond City, glad to see the hustle and bustle for herself properly. Dogmeat keeping to her side, the two of them were quite the attention getters. Descending from the entrance, a young girl was shouting headlines and Dude didn’t hesitate to approach her - Princess remembered her from her visit with Piper, Nat - seemed clever - but it looked like she was going to follow in her sister's footsteps. 

Which was a shame…  

The Pendleton’s name in the press was one of those things that Catherine made sure was good, workers rights and support - against complete automation as other companies pushed. A lot of the money that the Pendleton’s made went right back into the workforce. 

But it was far from altruistic, Catherine very plainly said to her once; ‘You can’t blackmail steel and wire. Can’t threaten them much either. Besides, there is always the hazard of someone hacking the machines.’ In all Princess’s child hood, she only remembered three machines. ‘Saga’, her teacher and nanny for her earlier years, and ‘Cerberus and Asterion’ - the sentry bots that guarded the front doors with the human security. Catherine didn’t trust the way things were going…

So the family had its name in the press; both good and bad - plenty of tabloids that liked to try and smear them from competition and the military trying to strong arm the family into following their demands.

               No god, king, let alone an old general could bully her into releasing her hold on the Pendleton empire. Pendleton was old money, and that was king in the U.S.A of the old world. 

Princess rubs her arm, along the inside of her elbow at the old marks as she wanders in thoughts. Her own name had popped up a few times, leaked information- her relapse and violence upon her return on the war front. That caused a lot of trouble… but her name appeared way more once Dude started his campaign, some bad but often silly things like the fashion she wore. 

Her attention refocuses when the girl approaches Dogmeat, who rolls onto his back gladly for his attention. Her giggles are warm and it brings a smile, and she kneels on the other side - “Hey Nat.”
“Hey Miss.” Nat says, looking up with a quirk of her nose. “So..is your name really Princess?” It really wasn’t an uncommon question, but coming from a child - it only makes her nod. “Yep.” A couple idle scratches, “I thought it was one of Piper's weird nicknames she had for people.” 

“Oh really, what does she call Mr. Pendleton then?” Princess looks up, and feels a wave of heated disdain move through her chest, “Blue.” Nat answers, but that’s not what makes her feel this way, Piper and Dude were speaking - but the reporter leaned against the doorframe of her house, casual, comfortable - a short laugh is the only thing she hears.
“So…How’s school?”
              “Um...Why do you care?
“Well…I figure we’ll see each other quite a bit Nat…and I don’t want us to be strangers.” Princess hums, and the girl looks apprehensive for a moment - “My husband and I will be visiting Diamond City a lot, Mr. Valentine and your sister are people who can help us.”
Dogmeat barks, and sits up to swipe a kiss from the girl - who made a lighthearted complaint, rubbing the slobber from her cheek.
“...School sucks. I got detention because a boy tried to kiss me and I punched him in the mouth.” Nat said, perhaps prepared for a bit of scolding, and Princess laughed, “Good, never be afraid to do that. Even if people tell you it’s not lady-like.”
The girl beams with a great deal of vindication, it changes the warmth in her chest to something lighter.
“Dear, ready to see Mr. Valentine?”
“Yes Dude.” Princess stands, giving a soft whistle and Dogmeat falls into step with her. “Bye Dogmeat, bye Miss Princess - bye Blue.” Nat hurries back over to Piper, who was pulling that distinct red coat.
“...Is she coming with us?” Princess asked, waiting beside him before they proceed. “She offered her services to us, apparently she wants ‘in’ on the investigation into the Institute. Mr. Valentine and her are on speaking terms, so it shouldn’t be too much of an issue.” Dude looks up to her, and takes her ringed hand - places his lips on her knuckles, his eyes never leaving her face - makes her smile at him, feeling like the moment they met.

The music playing and she’s standing off to the side, waiting to go home - another event where she stood out, uncomfortable and barely contained raw nerves. Her return from Anchorage had only been a couple months prior to it…
She didn’t want to be there.
And someone talked to her with such confidence that she initially looked in the six foot range of height before she realized it was Dude.
“O-oh hello.” His stature had startled her, a polite motion - consent to take her hand - and then pulling her to dance. No one else had ever asked her to dance…

“Princess?” Dude’s voice cut through the memory, Dogmeats paw at her leg made her refocus on now a piercing headache follows, radiating from the side of her skull that was scarred from the bullet. “Hmm?” The Statesmen has a flicker of concern before Piper jogs up. “Alright- let's go see Nicky.”
His hand remains with hers, and after a second - her husband nods, and he begins to lead her back down the alleys to the Detectives place.
“One thing, Princess.”
“Yes, Dude?”

“Mr. Valentine is a synth.” 

It was spoken so casually as he opened the door, and she eases her way in ahead of him - Dogmeat moves over to the desk, where Nick Valentine sat - wire hand scratching at the edge of his jaw when the dog padded over. “Hey there boy.” He sets his pen aside, and looks up at the slightly stunned,  giant woman who just entered his office. “Afternoon-”
“Afternoon Mr. Valentine.” Dude hums stepping around Princess easily. “This is my wife, Princess Pendleton.”
The yellow eyes of the synth give her a look over before offering her the more intact hand to shake. “Pleasure Mrs. Pendleton.” A proper greeting, and he sighs loudly. “Traveling with Piper, eh?”
“Nickyyyyy, come on don’t be like that.” She says, slipping in behind them - “It’sa case involving the Institute, you know I can’t pass up the chance.”
He didn’t look surprised, pulling open a drawer that squeals loudly - pulling out a file. “So with what we’ve gathered so far, Kellogg was working with the Institute.”
“I knew it-when can I-”
“But since he’s dead, that’s a bit of a dead end.”
“Fuck.” Piper sat down, well, disappointedly flopped into a chair - Princess took another, if only to stop towering over the Detective. Dude hums, “Unless someone knows a bit of black magic to bring him back, I would have to agree.”

Nick frowns, pulling out a carton - offering to the three - Piper took one, Dude declines this time. The Detective took a couple puffs, and an idea crossed his mind like a bulb. “Didn’t you pull something out of Kellogg’s head?”
There was a long pause, “Ah, yes, a bit of scrap - I thought.” He reaches into the bag, digging around a moment before finding it. He’d put it in a container to help preserve it, till he found a use for it - he needed to investigate it and the other pieces further, but given that this was the remnants of a brain…
               “Or maybe that bit of black magic we need, Dude.”
Piper blew out smoke, “Wait - you pulled stuff out of Kellogg? Like what-”
“Something along the lines of implants, and one of them was inside his skull.” He offers the tin to the Reporter, who took it quickly…and promptly regretted peeking into the case. “Oh..gross…”

Princess listened to the three talk, Dude hadn’t spoke about his work with Mr. Valentine - other than he had.
She finds herself pulling at her fingers, feeling the gentle pops to relieve the anxiousness that swirled around her brain - which was still stinging every so slightly, with lights being brighter than she’d like.

“Princess-” Dude’s voice calls again, and she jumps a little - bringing her focus back onto him. “Yes?”
He just gives her a slight smile, “We’ll find Shaun soon.” He lifts that tin, giving it a very gentle shake, to rattle its contents. “We just have to go for a bit of a walk.”
“Really?”
“Really.” He shifts his weight, and the pair of them kiss - she lowers her head and he places a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Why don’t you get some food? We’ll have lunch along the way - since the weather and you are so perfect.”
That made her beam, “Come on Dogmeat, let’s go.” And Mrs. Pendleton left the office and with her, a heavy weight replaced the air. 

“You hadn’t told her about Shaun.” Nick states, taking a drag from his own cigarette - and Piper looks between them as Dude returns that tin to his bag. “No, and I intend to keep it that way. As far as Princess is aware, we are still looking for our infant son.”
Piper about choked on the smoke, and Nick just watched him. “Wait-  what do you mean? Was I right - that kid?”
“According to Kellogg, he’s a bit more grown up than an infant.” Nick filled in the pieces, and Piper looked up at Dude. “Why don’t you tell her?”
He rolls his neck, before looking into Piper’s face - “Because it’s not necessary.”
“It’s her son-that…” Piper stammers, and Dude, despite being as short as he was moved to Piper, and the reporter prides herself on not being intimidated. Dude could respect the way she stood her ground as he put herself over her.
“If anyone is going to tell her, it will be me but until I know everything Ms. Wright - I won’t be. Do you understand?”

Piper stares, hazel green searching his face for something - probably looking for his hesitation… or reluctance to possibly hurt her.

                   But she would find no such thing in Dude Pendleton’s eyes.

He stood straight, fixing his jacket and looking at Nick who watched with as neutral as an expression as he could muster, but his hand was holding a smaller revolver in a passively ready position.
“Now, you said something about Goodneighbor - I assume you’ll need to introduce us to the witch who can work that bit of black magic.”
“It’ll be easier, the Memory Den’s owned by an old acquaintance of mine.”
Dude hums, “Coming along Piper?”
The Reporter nods and the two companions watch as he leaves with a cheery whistle - once gone, Piper turns to Nick.

“What the fuck Nick?” She hisses, “What kind of husband doesn’t tell his wife about whats happened to their kid?”
Nick stood, getting his hat and scribbling a note for Ellie when she came back. “That husband.” He replies, putting his cigarette out. “And for the record, I don’t approve either. But we don’t got the whole picture Piper.”
“What kinda picture do we need - that just… it’s fucked up.” Piper shakes her head, fists clenched.
“Piper, listen. The Pendleton’s are an unsteady pair - Princess feels a hair away from having a meltdown of nuclear proportions and Dude isn’t the kind of man to let morals slow him down from what I’ve seen.” Nick and Piper stare at one another. “He gives me the impression that Princess is the only reason he even considers them.”

“You’re just going to let him keep lying to her?”
“He hasn’t lied directly.”
“Lies of omission are just as bad-”
“ Piper .” Nick’s voice raises, and rubs the bridge of his nose, even though he didn’t breath or get headaches - it always felt natural. “It’ll come out. He’s my client, and he was willing enough to let you get involved. But it’s their son, and how he tells her needs to be up to him - I don’t think dropping the truth about this on her without warning will do anything good to her, do you understand?”
She kicks her feet, frustration clear on his face.
“Yeah, dammit. Just promise me somethin’ Nick.”
             “What Piper?”

                       “ We won’t let him lie forever.”

Chapter Text

Piper checked in with Nat before they left - admonishing her about making sure that she gets to school and promising to find a couple parts for the printing machines.
Dude would have to look into finding more for her, working printers are useful for more than the press. Princess standing off in the sun caught his attention and he found himself smiling.

She stands in the vault suit, much to her dismay - it was the most suitable for their missions through the wasteland. Build in radiation protection, not too cumbersome or inconvenient to build armor around - she stares off into space, her red hair is pulled back into a messy bun, showing off her neck and face - the bat is hanging on her back - and now her thighs carry both a 10mm and a sawed off. 

Dude didn’t believe in any gods; at least not ones unseen or unheard. His goddess stood there, glowing in the sun, dressed for battle - contently waiting to be called to action.
               His call . 

“Princess.” He steps up beside her, running his knuckles down her arm and she hums. “Shall we?” A gentle nod, and she whistles again for Dogmeat. Nick and Piper fall in step to start the journey.
It was a nicer day than it’s been in awhile - the dog keeping the lead, sniffing about for anything of note - warning them of any trouble ahead of time. The group talked, mostly circumstantial, empty chatter - that didn’t seem to change from the old days; he chimed in here and there.
At some point along the walk Princess had taken Nick’s attention, she was asking gently as she could about his existence as a synth - and the gruff detective was answering. Also gave her a bit of history about his time in Diamond City - a little bit about how he became such a fixture.
“...-And I told the guys I was rigged to explode. Started sayin’ beep-beep . Had to spend the rest of that rescue trying not to laugh as they climbed over each other.”

Princess laughs, “Oh goodness, I bet that was a sight.”
“Ms. Roberts certainly had a laugh once I cleared things up.” He said with a chuckle, “It got me the house-”
They seemed amicable, Mr. Valentine and his wife, despite the initial discomfort - getting along without any obvious hiccups.
The journey takes them through the old city, a surprisingly pleasant one even. Few fights and unplanned detours as they hit downtown before the pip boys alert Princess and Dude to a stray radio signal - the buzz of the speaker as Princess twisted the nobs to find the clearest signal…

“ -lp! ** static ** Or mayday! Or whatever it is one says on a radio. My name is… Rex Goodman. I'm being held prisoner on the top of Trinity Tower. I think ** static ** the super mutants plan on eating me soon. I'm setting this to repeat. Oh, shit! Gotta sign off, one of the super mutants is coming!”

The group listened, and slowly turned their eyes on the tallest tower in Boston - even post war, most people knew ‘Trinity Tower’ because it was still standing after all this time.
Apparently it was full of super mutants.
“...That’s… a whole lot of building to fight through.” Piper says, shielding her eyes from the brightness reflecting off the building.
“Bet the view at the top is killer.” Nick adds. “What’s the plan then?” 

Princess hums, “We should probably help Mr.Goodman.”
“Seems the noble thing to do.” Dude says, looking up the side of the building - if he remembered correctly, it had been one of those types of buildings that rented out offices to many types of businesses. But it had been awhile and even before the War - he couldn’t recall anything he particularly needed from this place.
Once he’d been attached to the Pendleton name, there wasn’t any need for such things.
No need to bullshit his way into places, cobble together funds and supplies or locations to work out of from his initial campaign attempt.

The detour takes them off the most direct route to Goodneighbor, into a ruined street that had been filled with spiked barricades; and perhaps it should’ve been an obvious trap as they make their way into the lobby floor of Trinity Tower.
                   It was too quiet.

“Ya know, this is weird - wasn’t the guy just complaining abo-” Piper starts, and the speakers screech to life. “HA! ANOTHER HUMAN COME TO RESCUE REX!”
“That isn’t good.” Nick says, and Dogmeat barks - “And the sky is blue , Mr. Valentine.” Dude quips, “KILL THEM! THEY’RE WEAK!”
And from the balcony above, a super mutant leaps - swinging a board down on Princess first. From surprisingly good hiding spots, hiding in debris, they emerged from around them like ants out of a hill and began opening fire. 

The impact splinters the board, and Princess smashes into the ground with all the weight of the mutant behind it - ringing in her ears, the breath knocked out of her from the impact of the ground.
It hurt, but gritting her teeth - she sharpened her focus as the mutant swung down with a meaty fist to hit her.
Princess caught it, with both hands but she stopped it from connecting to her face and, fueled by adrenaline, began pushing it back.

Dude’s revolver fires, and a spray of blood explodes from the elbow of the mutant, who howls as she practically snapped it backwards with the assistance.
Piper leaps into cover and yanks Dude by his suspenders with her, Nick was behind a pillar. “Hang in there Princess!” He yells, and he watched the woman roll to her feet getting the bat off her back and started wailing on the mutant with a furious yell.
Dude pulls out of his bag a grenade, pulling the pin and throwing it broad to some of the super mutants staying at range with guns. “Piper, get one of those rifles - that BB gun isn’t going to do anything.”

“Are you kiddi-” An explosion drowned out the question, and a hunting rifle came serendipitously tumbling through the air. Smoking and scarred, and a bit of mutant blood splattered on it - her eyes widened, scrambling to grab it before Dude dumped a couple boxes of .308 beside her.
Nick’s revolver was smaller than the one Dude was using, but it used .44 - so he didn’t give him grief. 

Princess’s shotgun goes off - another angry mutant yells, another screams in rage - then a sharp whimper from the dog, the mutt being flung away from helping its master, tumbling,  whimpering yelps when Dogmeat tries to get back up. “Stay down boy.” Nick calls, and the fire fight starts slowing down.
Because the mutants had to start reloading. 

Dude takes the time to stand up now, instead of taking blind shots over the rubble - and prepares to empty the barrel into the mutant that was harassing Princess. It’s a pleasant surprise to watch her football shoving the mutant back into one of the many decorative spike piles with all her might.
Piper's new rifle cracks, taking shots at a green man struggling to unjam the gun it had - Nick took another, and Dude split the difference instead.
He watches Princess slam two shells into the sawed off, and put it into the chest of the mutant - already impaled, squirming to try and get off it before falling lip with a new hole. 

When that was all said and done, his wife dashed to Dogmeat - who looked up at her, and she apologized profusely.
Nick checked his coat, grumbled a bit about how he’ll have to patch the new holes later - and Piper was shoveling ammo into her bag.
“All accounted for?” Dude chimes, “No missing or added limbs?
“Shit that was intense.” Piper says with a hard breath, remaining seated once she’d gotten a good pile to work with. Nick nods, Princess gives Dogmeat a gentle squeeze before the pair of them stood - her dusting off dirt from her suit. 

Dude watched her, the bruises on her knuckles, the broken links on ‘Witty Comeback’ - she practically shakes the modification off, leaving bloodied nails in its place. “Let’s go help Mr. Goodman - and have a nice lunch.” 

Of course, the elevator isn’t the most spacious - but at least it was working - groaning in protest the whole three floors it carried them too.
         And to another fight.
Another series of insults from the mutant who seemed to be in charge of this infestation and a mixture of him insulting his own soldiers. 

It didn’t mean much to Dude, Piper ripped off some zingers that got Nick to laugh, Dogmeat even seemed to add his thoughts to the matter when his mouth wasn’t full of mutant. However… between his own need to defend himself or Princess, he was watching her fight.
Princess has always been strong, it’s never been in question - yet this felt… beyond her normal means. 

He gets distracted, a mutant slaps Piper across the face and she starts tumbling to one of the many edges of this towering death trap. He steps out, grabbing her by the arm - stopping her from teetering over the edge.
“Shitshitshit- pull me back Blue-pull me back!” 

“I’m still wondering about the nickname, Ms. Wright.” Dude states, hooking his other arm around a support beam to keep from joining her, righting himself before moving. “What?! Why does that matter right now?!”
“Burning curiosity, for the most part.” He yanks abruptly, twisting both of them away from a line of fire and has her swept nearly off her feet. 

Piper, was a bit startled by the motion - clearly, given her expression - and then exasperated by the fact he still seemed waiting for the answer in that sweeped position. “Cause-uh-” She starts, she’d never seen Dude wear a vault suit, but he still had the pipboy. “Cause ya from a Vault, have a pipboy - most people would say you stick out like a sore thumb.”
He thinks about it, looking around, then amused as a mutant is chucked over the edge by Princess… it's still straining, by how hard she’s breathing but she lifted it off its feet to do so.
               Something has  changed.

“Um, uh- you going to help me up?” Piper asks, breaking his thoughts and he pulls her fully upright. The reporter was taller than him, about a head or so - and she pulls the bolt handle back and takes a shot, protecting Nick from what would’ve been a nasty surprise. 

“Thanks.” She adds as Nick tips his hat, it wouldn’t take long after to finish this set of floors and find another working elevator.
Everyone takes a moment with the shitty, mind numbing elevator music to stim up - take a drink, Dogmeat’s panting is heavy, Princess was a bit of a mess, sitting at the backside with Dude standing with her. 
“How are you doing, Darling?”
Her bloodied hand reaches to his, taking it and squeezing tightly enough to pop the bones in his hand; yet he doesn’t complain despite its sting.
“Don’t worry, Princess - we’ll be at the top soon and have a beautiful view to enjoy lunch from. Just have one more chore to do.”
Piper and Nick look over, and Piper asks. “What’s that?”

              “Tossing the rest of the trash to the bottom.” 

Sure enough, they barely have a second to step out of the elevator when the distinct sound of a mini gun begins spooling up. “DIE HUMANS!”
Nick took the brunt of it, hitting the ground with new holes in his frame and Piper’s arm was clipped, spinning her back into the elevator before she could properly step out.
Dude shielded Princess before she could process what happened…
Her husband grits his teeth, but his shirt is red, trying to keep himself standing while Princess stares in horror.
Dogmeat was snarling, barking as the mutant stood at the top of the ramp there - the barrel glowing orange and smoking in the cooler air.
Dude turns away from Princess, despite almost being cut in half from the gunfire - he forces himself upright. 

“You ruined… my suit… you dumb , fucking… oaf.” He snarls, and Princess stands up- catching him from losing his balance as the mutant laughs. “So puny!”
             “Dude!”

“I’m fine, why don’t we show him the error of his ways?” He says, looking up at her with one of his over confident smiles. It makes any shadow of a doubt disappear for her as she kisses him, before she moves him out of the way - and rushes up the ramp to the mutant, even as the mini-gun begins spinning up again.
Dude takes aim, even with blurry vision and grins. Firing at the mutant's hands, and delighting in the surprised noise he makes - it made the mutant jerk unexpectedly, filling panels of metal with rounds, sending sparks spilling gloriously over his beautiful wife as she leapt at this Mutant Leader.
On his side, Nick offered his support - a few shots where he could land before Princess made it impossible to shoot before laying there, fumbling with something.
Piper was cussing up a storm at his feet, he swayed, and used the momentum to take a step forward - to look like he was still in control. 

Princess is thrown against a wall, losing her bat in the process - but she’d busted that minigun for him. Almost drunkenly, Dude sauntered up to the leader who was yelling - he pulled the hammer back, unnoticed and fired, making the swollen wall of meat stumble off balance.
“Princess-”
She moves again, he knows she hurts - but with yet another fearsome cry, she throws her whole body weight into him. The tumble is terrifying, back down to the elevator level - and despite Valentine’s condition, he grabbed her - slowed her from going over the thirty story drop with the bastard.
The mutant's weight didn't do him any favors - getting to the edge, the flooring gave way and off he went with a scream. 

“Holy fuck.” Piper yells, “Guys -”
Princess lays there, staring upwards at the sky - head ringing, world spinning. Her pipboy screen was flashing with warnings she wasn’t seeing.
             So was Dude.
He didn’t normally get this hurt, the last time it had been this bad was back before he was a nobody on the west coast.
However, he uses the railings to make his way back down - he walked stiffly, Nick was sitting up. “Ya need to sit down-”
“I need to help Princess.” Dude states clearly, dropping to his knees beside her - her eyes are open, but they weren’t present. Nick begins rifling in his coat pockets, before finding a stimpak tossing it to Piper, and Dogmeat paces anxiously around. 

Dude felt the distinct cold in his limbs, and the way his hands didn’t want to do as he commanded them too.
“Hang on, I got you.” Nick got a hold of Dude’s bag, starting to dig for another set of stims. He injected Princess, and promptly after Dude - and there was a quiet moment between all of them. Dude staring into her face with growingly agitated intensity.
Piper stood over them, chewing her nails - eyes darting up and around, waiting for something worse to happen.

   Cold .
          It was so cold.

                         Why? It…
Princess remembered looking across the space, Shaun in her arms - looking at her husband as the pod closed.
It was like she blinked, and air came back into her lungs and it hurt so much - and Shaun screamed. Princess looked at her baby boy, and tried to shush him even as coughs made her throat raw.
       “...Is it over…?”
                      “No, it’s only gets worse from here.” 

But as Princess looked up to see who spoke, her eyes stung violently from the wasteland sun and she gasped.
Dude’s hand touched her cheek, and she grasped it as tears filled her eyes.
“You got him, Princess - threw him over the edge like the trash he is.” Dude declares with pride. “A-are you okay?” She sobs and he nods, “Nothing a bit of dry cleaning and a whiskey won’t help with.”

Dude looks to the Detective, still sitting next to them in all this - dark stains of his own in his clothing. “I’ll make sure this is repaid, Mr. Valentine.” The synth waved his wire hand, “Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m not worrying, I’m stating the facts.” Dude finds Piper next, “Intact?”
“Ya…just… holy smokes…” She says, “That… that was close.”

“I don’t think so.” Dude declares, standing back up and helping Princess up, who helps Nick in turn. “Alright, let’s go find Rex.”
Making their way through the last level, they find at the very top of Trinity Tower, a cage with an old man in it..
“Ah, beneficent bard - a rescuer.” Rex says when the door gets opened, “You all are the first to make it to the cage.” Giving them all a worried look over, “Haggard for it.” They all tensed, prepared to draw weapons when a mutant came out of the cage behind him. “No-no-no, Strong is a friend! They locked him up because he was listening to me!”
Piper shouts, “About what?!”
“I thought I would try and civilize these mutants by teaching them culture- reading Shakespear-”
The Mutant says, “He taught us about the Milk of Human Kindness - and that it makes humans strong, stronger than mutants.” 
“Macbeth, correct?” Dude asks, and Rex looks relieved that at least one of them knew it off hand. 

“Well, there isn’t really a way for all of us to fit back in that box.” Piper says, motioning to the elevator where the back wall was sprayed with blood.
“Theres another way down.” Strong says, looking at all of them - but most of all staring at Princess, given that she was the closest in height. “Oh, then show us.” Dude motions, and the mutant leads them out onto a rooftop patio…
               The sun was starting to sink, casting a orange-gold glow across the ruins below.

Princess stops and stares, and Dude places an arm around her waist as they look out. Nick whistles gently, “Hell of a view…”
Piper finds a railing to lean on, “...Damn if the air feels cleaner up here.” 

Strong snorts, “Just ruins” He goes over, and points to an old window lifting platform - used for cleaning big buildings like these. “There, the way down. Lets go.”
“Not yet, I planned for a nice lunch.” Despite the bloodied state they were all in, Princess returns to the elevator carefully for her bag, a little messy but she pulls out the lunch that she’d found in her trip to the market. 

“Thank goodness I brought extra.” She says tiredly, and offered them all bundles - including Mr. Goodman and Strong…
“It might be a little smashed, but I’m pretty sure it’s still good.”
All of them sat, though the super mutant was antsy.
“Why are you offering me this - it’s pathetic.” Strong complains, shoving the morsel of a sandwich into his mouth, pretty much whole.

                      “ Because food is always the start of new friendships.”

Chapter Text

It was a great view ,and it was nice to pretend - if for a moment, that the world below hadn’t ended. Princess and Dude sitting with fingers interlaced as they watched the sun slowly descend. Rex Goodman recited more Shakespeare, at Strong's request - he seemed particularly fond of Macbeth - and it wasn’t the worst, Princess could do without Piper’s heckling on the matter… 

“The only thing that could make this better is if we had one of your Mothers reserves.” Dude whispers to her in the midst of an irritated squabble between Rex and Piper, which Nick was having to break it up before it got serious. Though even he seemed a bit amused by it…

Princess hums, “And I know the year that would’ve been perfect for this…a Nebbiolo… from 2057.” Dude makes a noise of agreement, but the thought of her mother made her look off to the north, towards the more rural side of Boston. 

Dude eyes follow, “…Whenever you're ready, we’ll go.” The Pendleton Estate, what did it look like two-hundred years from her last visit…? Princess didn’t know if she would ever be ready 

“Humans wasting time.” Strong growls, and the Pendletons watch him stand.
The pair had very different opinions on the existence of Super Mutants.
A flash of anger between the two of them - Dude despised them for their effect on Princess, and she loathed them for their effect on the Commonwealth.
Yet, there was a curiosity from Princess - before this, she hadn’t seen Super Mutants that didn’t attack people on sight.
‘Strong’ as he was called, looked so much like others - but he held his chin high - he picked up a sledge and held it loosely with one hand. 

“I…don’t think wasting is correct, but I would be most grateful to be going before it gets too dark. Traveling back to the station is going to be quite a journey, and I’d rather not do it at night.” Rex adjusts his tie, and it reminds Dude of the current state of his clothes - doesn’t help that without his suspenders, he could already feel his slacks trying to make their escape. He slides his hands into his pockets for the moment before wandering away from the group - in search of something to make into a temporary belt. 

Princess looked over some of the small tears of the vault suit, grateful for its sturdiness in the moment - Dude was working on getting someone to regularly make her things again, like it was done before the bombs fell.
Fashion was a bit difficult to find for someone her size…but… it was something she was used to.
“Where do you need to go?” Piper asks, and Rex answers. “I broadcast out of the WRVR Station, the Charles River Trio -” Piper groans, and Nick makes a bit of a snort. “I thought your name was familiar.”
Princess lifts her pipboy, looking over the map before her eyes pop out of her head. “That’s so far away Mr.Goodman! You traveled by yourself-”

“It was a worthy cause! I wanted to teach them there are better things in life than pillaging and murder.” Rex says, “And I consider myself successful.” Adding as he looks at Strong, who was staring at the group - clearly annoyed.
“There more Super Mutants. We should go.”
The Detective nods, “Second that.”
“Yeah, if there’s more - we should get out of here.” Piper looks towards the elevator from where they came. “...Wait - um… when did it go down?”
                      Ding!

Only two mutants popped out; and given there were four people and a dog that were ready to defend themselves. Strong moved in to help, calling the one he strikes down pathetic and laughing as that other filled with holes…
No love lost for the blood spilled.
Dude returned with the ruckus, a new shirt miraculously - just finishing tucking it in as it finished faster than it began. “Well, I see no more reason to delay. Princess?”
“No, not at all. It was a very lovely lunch - thank you all for joining us.” She replies, the group gave a variety of responses, there was a bit of confusion to a couple voices but Princess doesn’t pay it any mind.

Now came the treacherous part, that lift wasn’t very wide - and probably not meant for the seven of them, it screeches as the weight is put on it.
“Have I ever mentioned I hate heights?” Piper says, putting her back to the city view, Nick spun the barrel of his gun and leaned over a little with a soft whistle. “Not my favorite thing either.”
“So no skyscraper dates in the future I think.” The Reporter nods to herself, sounding a bit queasy as the platform descends at Rex’s command. 

The horrendous noise that the lift gives is almost enough to drown out the warcry of the first batch of mutants to start firing.
With the group all loaded up with ammo, Strong acted as a meat shield for Rex - Dogmeat stayed down at Princess’s command - she wasn’t the best shot, it helped that most of what she was shooting at were wide as doors and standing practically still for her ease.
It wasn’t a pleasant couple of floors; it was probably a good thing that Dude carried a fair bit of stimpacks for Princess - or their companions would be quite useless after a bit of damage.

When the platform ran out of cable, they’re forced to move into the building once more - fight to find another way down, Strong and Dogmeat stayed close to Rex, defending him while the rest of them took the lead in clearing the levels.
How this man made it across the wastes with no ability to defend himself was beyond Dude’s comprehension, if he believed in such things - he would attribute it to luck.

By the fourth floor, just constant fighting, clawing for every room they push through - even Dude is feeling the ache from the effort, even if he doesn’t show it. It’s grueling work; at this point no one has witty banter about the situation.
Thankfully, the Super Mutants had plenty of ammo for them to keep stocked…
The second lift was quieter, just like the elevator - so as it squeals down - Dude looks to Mr. Goodman, who was shifting his weight side to side as they went.
            “So Mr. Goodman, is there something you can offer for our rescue?”
The old man looked surprised, “I- excuse me?”
“We did come all that way, at great risk - I figured some form of compensation was in order.”
“Now, Mr. Pendleton-” Nick starts, “Why don’t we finish getting to the bottom before we start askin’ Rex to empty his pockets.” Dude glanced at him, watching the synth pull his sleeve down and then grimace at the new holes there.
His gaze goes to Princess next, as if to confirm the suspicions that Nick already had about the pair of them.
                       She is his moral compass. 

“Honey, we shouldn’t worry about this right now.” Princess says, touching his arm to add weight to her words. “Very well. We’ll put a pin in it for now.”
Nick exchanges a look with Piper, who looked appalled by the attempt to collect payment - he just shakes his head. Not now.

Another couple floors, another fight; more grueling than the last but Trinity Tower was so much quieter with this nest of Mutants steadily being cleared out.
Thirty stories of green corpses. Up than down. Navigating through the ruins to find their way to the ground floor once again.
So perhaps Dude should’ve expected that with the final floors in sight that something had to go wrong - but that would mean believing in luck and such.
A grenade came spinning into the lift, most people's reaction is to get away from an explosive - so suddenly all the weight went to one side.
It was lucky perhaps that it managed to bounce through the gap and fell down to explode midair beneath them, shaking the lift violently, smashing it against window frames and rusted metal of the exterior.

But the reaction caused the old, weather worn cable of the lift to start snapping and a great many things happened at once as everyone had been squished between the mutant and the outside edge.
Cord by cord of rust giving way…
        Lots of yelling. Panicked and angry.
Fumbling, trying to redistribute the weight to no avail.
         Strong grabbing Rex and tossing him into the building like he was a football.
Princess doing the same with Dogmeat.
Nick and Piper grabbing at the edges as the side dropped unexpectedly, Strong’s weight tipping over and slamming into Dude and Princess.
It was processed in flashes as Dude’s eyes blinked repeatedly, like a camera in the dark - one moment he was bracing himself to stay in the lift and then the next…
            Falling. 

Princess managed by some luck; to grab a snapped bar - screaming from the effort it took.
            Dude wasn’t as lucky.
The impact of Strong provided hadn’t just knocked him away - it sent the smaller man flying - comically even.
From the perspective of the companions - he flew like a ping pong ball; smashing into an exposed bit of support beam, sending him tumbling like a ragdoll into other panels.
Strong toppled down into the balcony level below with a bellow like a rock in a pond, smashing into the old steel and disappearing from sight.
Princess’s cries were clear to him strangely, with every impact before nothing but silence took over his senses.
Above Strong, and Dude - Rex called for everyone’s well being. “What do you fuckin’ think!” Piper snaps, “Fuck- Princess, hang on-we’ve got you.” Princess was clutching the broken bar, white knuckled and sobbing. The companions slid down carefully, Nick holding Piper as she reached for Princess to pull her back into the lift - it’s not easy, the woman was just about inconsolable.
“Come on-come on-come on!” Piper grits through teeth, pulling Princess by her bag carefully.

It wasn’t perfect, but as they moved up the lift - it was a little more level. Nick peaked down below to look through the whole Strong had made, to see the Mutant getting up - growling before disappearing out of sight. “Well, the musclehead made it.” Nick states, then looks up at Dogmeat’s barking - both Rex and the hound stood in a broken frame. “See if there’s something you can help us with Rex!”
“Right-right!” The radio host disappears.
“Dogmeat, stay with Mr. Goodman - I’ve got Princess.” Dogmeat barked a bit of protest, but after a long whine, he followed.
           What a mess - Nick thought.

Princess was staring after where Dude had bounced off out of sight, crying still, eyes puffy red and in shock as she held the framework. “Do you think he made it?” Piper whispered as loudly as she dared.
“It…let’s just worry about getting outta this mess right now.” Nick says, jerking his attention when there's the sound of gunfire. 

The three of them hung there helpless for what felt like eternity, Piper ready to faint from holding her breath and Nick could feel the joints in his jaw straining.
This was the worst place to be right now… 

Seconds dragged…
One… two… three…four…
                five…six…seven… eight…
                                                      Nine… ten …

A Super Mutant came flying out of the ruin, tumbling onto the balcony below - already dead. Strong appeared next, “Weakling.” He was bloodied, a bit of a limp - his lips were pulled back with a snarl. “Alright Strong- let’s help them off the lift.” Rex directs, and the Mutant makes a complaint before complying, disappearing behind some walls before kicking those panels free to make way for the three of them to climb back into the building. He reaches out to the lift and pulls it closer, and Piper is the first to make the scramble across - making the short gap easily.
“Princess.” Nick says, pulling at her arm gently. “We’ve got to go.”
When the woman looked at him, made his old ticker ache - she looked so lost. “You can’t find your boy if you stay here, Mrs. Pendleton.”
Princess blinked, dark green eyes refocusing on the synth and a brutal sniffle - she looked around - as if she didn’t remember where she was. “Yes… yes of…of course…Mr. Valentine.” She croaks, and nods. “...Makes sense.”
He tugs gently, and she shifts her weight carefully with his help - before making the crossing herself.
Nick follows, and as his foot pushes off the lift - the platform finally gave way and fell with a crash into the building below.
“Phew, Nicky that was close.” Piper says, hands on her knees - shaking a little. “Way too close - just like the good ol’ days.”
The pair laugh, strained as it was - when they finish resettling themselves into their own skins. They found Princess kneeling with Dogmeat, streams of tears had left marks on her face as she pressed her face into his fur. 

The Detective moved over to Piper, whispering under his breath “Piper…I… can you do me a favor… Get Princess out of here, bring her to Goodneighbor.” Glancing further into the building. “I’m going to find Mr. Pendleton.”
Piper grimaces, a fall like that didn’t have good chances - even she understood that.
Unfortunately, even if he wanted to just say that he was gone and move on; he needed the piece of Kellogg to help Princess find their son.
“I… yeah…I can do that, meet at The Third Rail?”
             “Sounds like a plan. I’ll be behind you as soon as I can.” 

Piper went to Princess’s side, and talked her up - using that charm to reach the distraught wife, coaxing her out of the shock. Nick waited till she’d gotten Princess distracted enough to approach Rex again. “Mr. Goodman, I’m sure your folks are worried about you, and like you said - don’t wanna be wandering around Boston in the dark.”
“Of course I- thank you all again, Mr. Valentine.” Rex Goodman adjusts his coat, and looks up at Strong. “Coming along?”
The Mutant looked at him disapprovingly, “Hey big guy, he can probably tell you more about Milk of Human Kindness.” Nick offers, giving Strong a bit more incentive to go so begrudgingly - the mutant agreed, and the pair headed off with a brief goodbye to Piper and Princess.

There is an uncomfortable silence as they head off before Piper nods at Nick, “Come on Doll, we’ll meet Nick over there.” Princess nods, and Dogmeat licks at her hand…and they head off themselves. 

Nick waited until he couldn’t hear either of them talking before he started making his way to the floors he guessed Dude Pendleton could’ve ended up on.
It was quiet, grueling work - going room to room, hoping something wasn’t going to jump out at the lone synth.
They’d all gone in so confidently into the Tower, even going up and it got hard - Dude carried himself as if he were unkillable, Princess fought like a deathclaw - the pair’s energy was enough to keep Nick and Piper following along.
And hell, when Nick watched Dude get himself nearly sawed in half by the mini-gun, he thought that was it for his client.
He’d have to admit - when the man walked out of there anyway, walking like he was the devil himself stepping out of hell…
It had been deeply unsettling.
If he hadn’t seen it for himself - he would have never believed it happened - and Piper had seen it too; the pair had watched the pre-war couple end the Super Mutant Leader despite their injuries. 

“Alright, Mr. Pendleton- where’d you end up…” Nick says, making his way through a broken doorway only to catch a whiff of cigarette smoke, the oil in his body felt cold as he turned the corner to a room that mostly collapsed.
Sitting in the rubble, bloodied, from head to toe - his black hair disheveled, his clothes completely shredded, a cigarette between his lips as he pulled his other arm forward with an awful noisy pop.
“Mr.Pendleton-” Nick utters with complete disbelief.
“Yes, Mr. Valentine?” Dude blew out a long puff of smoke as he dug out another stimpack, with already two discarded at his feet.
Nick starred with his eyes wide, golden lights searching for some explanation for the survival of Dude Pendleton.
He smirks, blood still in his teeth - the blood in his eyes made him look wild, feral in a way that Nick would rather not see again. 

           “ If you think a little fall is enough to kill me, Detective….”
                                         “...You have a lot to learn about me.”

Chapter Text

Dude Pendleton stood in front of a broken mirror, fixing the clothes he’d pulled from his bag - retying the tie as if the setting was the most completely normal. Nick leaned against the doorframe to the office they’d moved into, burning through another cigarette.
He watched Dude pause, picking up a bottle of gin and took a swig from the bottle - hissing lightly as he swallowed, tossing it to the side - fixing the shirt properly as it shattered. 

“Something the matter, Mr. Valentine?” Dude queries over his shoulder, looking at the Detective from his reflection, since the stims had a chance to work, besides the faint stains that lingered in places. You would have never guessed about an hour ago, this man looked like a poster child for violent crime victims.
“Just I’m just curious, what’dya do before the bombs?” He asked, maybe it would offer some sort of insight as to why this man was alive.
“A few things, but notably - I was a Senator.” Dude buttoned his sleeve cuffs, before changing his mind and rolling up to his elbows. “A politician…feels about right… but I doubt that's all you were.”
Dude fixed his belt, adjusting the hilt of the dark blade on his hip, refastened one holster to his leg and the other returned to his side.
“Military?”
“Quite observant. Second Lieutenant, I oversaw logistics involving the Anchorage Campaign.”  Dude finally smoothed his hair back, pulling it into the tight ponytail and completing the look Nick met him with. 

                A talker, charmer even. He was a Senator.
Military, which gives him some of the combat experience that Nick has seen.
                      Not all of it.
“Anything else exciting?”
“Is this an interview, Mr. Valentine?” Dude turned to face him, getting the rest of his appearance in place. As if nothing dramatic as dying had happened so recently.
“Just curious is all, what about Princess? I can’t imagine she was a stay at home mom-” Nick moved from the topic readily, but he tilted his head as Dude chuckled.
“No, not terribly.” Mr. Pendleton hums as they start walking back out of the gore filled tower - it hadn’t been too long, but the warmer day was causing the recently deceased to smell. Even as the sun was starting to descend.
“She had just got her degree in Law, she was working on passing the bar before the bombs fell.” There was a hint of pride in his tone, the smile hadn’t changed - “A lawyer?”
“That was the intent.”

Nick could recognize when someone wasn’t honest - Dude was being honest - but the answers he was giving were the kind that left one hanging, often wanting more. “Your idea?”
“Of course not, she made the choice for herself.” Dude checked his little 10mm as they stepped out into the street again. “This way to Goodneighbor?”
“Yeah, Princess and Piper have gone ahead-” Nick nods, and motions towards the south, vague direction that he thought the station was in. “Rex has Strong protecting him on the way back.”

“I do need to send Mr. Goodman an invoice for the rescue. Given the distress that put Princess in…” Dude rubbed his chin, thumbing along the line before discovering a slight line that wasn’t there previously. He fusses with it as Nick and him walk - an uncomfortable few minutes for Nick, but he seriously doubts Dude has the same issue.
The Detective chewed on what he knew of the Pendletons, of their case - to keep himself busy during their silence.
It was about an hour of walking before Dude slowing down caught his attention from his thoughts - Dude shifted his stride off the street, and Nick found his eyes drawn to the faded painted words above the door.
‘Hubris Comics”.

“Mr. Pendleton-”
“Just a moment, I’m curious about something.” Despite Nick’s attempt of protest, the man was sauntering in as if they weren’t in the middle of Boston’s ruins, with night falling - with his wife ahead of them, probably worried sick that her husband wasn’t going to be joining her in Goodneighbor.
But instead of waiting, Nick would follow Dude into the comic shop, by passing the corpse outside of it. 

It’s dusty, Dude’s pipboy lights up to fill the battered old space. It stank - it was one of the things that Nick could say if he could ever give critique, he could definitely do without a sense of smell.
Mr. Pendleton brushed over the display cases, picking up a stray baseball and tossing it up and down.
It shouldn’t have been a surprise, crawling out of their hiding places - the radiation torn bodies of ghouls come into the light with snarls and growls.
“Oh son of-”
“Not this again. Really - did no one think to pay the extras…” A small quip, a chucked baseball to knock one over as it just as it managed to get on its feet.
What was supposed to be a quick visit turned into a cleanse, Dude went through every room methodically, pest control - he says to Nick, and he would’ve believed him.
Though Nick thought it felt like a game to Dude Pendleton as if putting these ghouls out of their misery was entertaining…
The offices were about what you’d expect, ruined - ghoul infested - littered with garbage. Mr. Pendleton pocketed a few things, a comic - a key, some scrap. Nick kept the commentary to himself on that as they made their way up the building. The Detective lingered back when he saw yet another body that had been chewed up and he took a look through the poor souls pockets to find a list.
Scavengers risking it all for a few caps. 

Talking about an axe left below and some other things, some Collector in Goodneighbor would pay a big sum for anything out of here. 

“Anything of interest, Mr. Valentine?” Dude says from behind him, and Nick looks over his shoulder a little quicker to see him leaning on the wall; silent as this pop culture grave.  “Nothing special, just a shopping list.” He stands, “Some collector had some requests.” Dude quirked a brow, and than picked something up absently and decided against taking it. Nick watched him set it against the ledge… or… maybe that was the plan, because he missed and yet.

It floated there for several seconds, defying the laws of gravity as Dude started further up the building, Nick took a step towards the scrap, reaching for it - and that’s when the bit of porcelain remembered that it wasn’t sitting on anything. It shatters, leaving the Detective still a moment as he wrestles with reality. “Come along Mr. Valentine!” Dude called ahead, and Nick adjusted his coat as he hurried the way Mr. Pendleton went. 

Up to the final floor, a stage room by first glance - and as expected, filled with ghouls. The Glowing One was crawled out from behind the backdrop and made a beeline for Dude Pendleton. The geiger counter started ticking on his pipboy; and the swarm followed suit with heightened focus. 
Nick covered, smacked around a ghoul that took notice to him but the majority seemed very interested in Mr. Pendleton. This caused him to drop his gun and draw out a blade - it feels effortless, but that Glowing One was lunging in and retreating. 

The Glowing Ghoul stepped back after Dude killed a couple, crying out with an inhuman noise- the gieger started screaming. Valentine had heard stories of what they could do, and yet it was more terrifying than any description previously told. 

The heat wave of the radiation spread around the room, an old camera that rested just by the stage began bowing before collapsing into its face from the sheer weight. Nick put a hand up, shielding his eyes from the brightness that grew from its core. 

Dude Pendleton’s skin had turned cherry when it faced the ghoul, and burns formed along his jaw and hands closest. “That’s a neat trick.” He hisses as the fallen ghouls stand up, surrounding the man again. 

“Dude-“ Nick draws his gun level again, the revolver barking and knocking away a ghoul that was taking a swipe at him from behind. “I’ve got this handled, Mr. Valentine.” That knife twists in his hand, twirls and than he moves; a viper encircled before his little 10mm exited the hostler to add holes to the previously dead creatures as he moved after the Glowing One. “Damnit-“ Nick shot at ones that fell and tumbled since his client was throwing himself into the thick of trouble with reckless abandon. The Glowing One seemed to pick up on this, hissing and snarling as it clashes with Dude Pendleton.

The exchange is unsurprisingly brief once Dude started at it, three harsh strikes to the throat and a bullet to the temple ended it with a gurgle. The illuminated fluid has sprayed his dark pants and skin; and he turns back to the remaining survivors promptly. 

The Synth and the Statesman finish them off, and in the following quiet - Nick could hear the ever so subtle breaths of Dude, there is some obvious bruising, some tears to his clothing and more blood on him that was probably ghoulish than his. Probably. Nick was already prepared for him to deny it anyways.

“Let’s get you a rad-away, Mr. Pendleton. Sit a minute.” Nick says, and watched Dude wave him off to squat by the still luminescent corpse.  He doesn’t argue, just moves off to find the chems - he came back to find Dude rolling up a sleeve without any argument, allowing for him to get the bag set up to work through his system. “You know, maybe you should try to live long enough to see your wife again, Mr. Pendleton.” 

A slow turn of his head, and Nick meets those green eyes steadily… the Detective in that moment recalled the fight, the burns that had formed on the humans skin and found that they were gone, no , not completely - very faintly there were pink shades, a little rougher texture than the surrounding skin. 

And more unsettling, is he could swear… 

                   Dude Pendleton’s eyes were glowing in the dark.

Chapter Text

The walk away from Trinity was heavy, the Vault Dweller’s shoulders were sagging, eyes to the ground - Princess seemed almost completely unaware of the world around her. 

Her mutt stopped in front of Piper, huffing and giving a couple stomps as if he was asking her to say something. “What am I supposed to say - sorry for ya loss?” Bark . “See? Even you think that’s in poor taste.” The Reporter looked up at Princess than, “I- fuck. I don’t know Dogmeat, she doesn’t seem like she wants to talk.” Bark, bark. 

Piper makes an exasperated noise, and Dogmeat trots ahead to Princess’s side, hopping a bit to get a good kick of her hand before biting at her bag. This doesn’t initially get Princess’s attention, not till the mutt has a mouthful and gives a surprisingly good tug - with her so distracted, she’s pulled abruptly. “Dogmeat-“ Was a halfhearted protest before the dog makes a growl and pulls her further off the road. “Hey Doll! I think he wants to show you something.” Piper hurried to join them as they moved into a side road, leading into Park Street. 

Dogmeat stops, barking and drawing their attention to an advert on a shielded wall - safe from the centuries of weather, though plenty of graffiti - posters and plastered newspaper; was a picture of Dude Pendleton. The paint had faded from it the metal, rust creeping at its edges, but Piper would recognize that face now 

‘ He’s one of Us! Vote Pendleton for-‘ In bold print, with scarlet red across the chest. 

        Communist Spy! Godless Bastard!

Princess began to pull away some of the papers around it, to find the frame that’s barely held together as if clearing away a shrine.

“…Hey Princess?”
“Hmm…?” 

“How’d you two meet?” Piper leaned up against the wall, looking up at the distant expression on the taller woman’s  face.  Princess places a hand by Dude’s face, “…At a party… an awards ceremony for people who came back from the Anchorage Tour.” She sniffles, wiping her face and starting to pull at the frame.
But it brought a smile, and that made Piper press a little more. “Oh, there’s a look - I bet it’s quite a story.” 

Princess softens more, entertained and distracted by the memory - Dogmeat sniffing around while they talk. “When you’re as tall as I am, Ms. Wright-“

“Just call me Piper, it sounds like ya talking to an old lady when you call me Ms.” Piper says, pulling out a cigarette to smoke. Princess leaned away from her as she breathed; but she continued. “…Men don’t want to dance with a tall woman. So I was standing off to the side of the room, trying to keep my mind off things while the night carried on… and than he…” Princess hums, pausing at her work to lean on the wall beside it, holding herself as if she was cold. 

“Walked up to me bold as brass and asked me to dance.” She looked over to Piper, “At that point nobody ever had the courage to do that before. It was…it was wonderful.” 

Piper listened to her describe the night, amazed at the sheer adoration that Princess had for her husband - and how the next morning he called the house to find out what kind of flowers she liked. 

It sounded romantic; frilly and ostentatious beyond anything Piper’s ever heard. It felt utterly unbelievable given her experience with Mr. Pendleton. He felt cold and predatory, sure to shake your hand as he was to shoot you. Dogmeat caught their attention, pressing a teddy bear into Princess’s leg, which she took - thumbing the little floppy arms with another far off look. Right . 

If her husband was dead… she would need to be told about Shaun, before too long. Piper took a huge drag of her cigarette trying to think about how she would tell Mrs. Pendleton. “Here, Piper- for Nat.” Princess offered to Piper that slobbered teddy bear. “Oh, um… thanks. I’m sure she’ll like it.” Piper pocketed and was taken off guard by the following question. “…It’s been just you and her…?”
Piper shook her head, “Not always, my dad was killed when I was younger…ended up being the biggest reason I became a reporter.” Princess tilts her head, “My Dad was a militiaman, off in this small town at the edge of the Commonwealth and he caught wind of the Captain’s plan with some raiders. Leave the doors open, get a share of the stuff they’d take… he killed my dad.”

She puts out her hands, making a frame with her fingers. “So I made these wanted posters for the Captain, listed off his crimes and eventually the Mayor and the people kicked him out of town for it.”
Princess nods, humming at her pride. “Eventually, I saved up enough to move us to Diamond City, and well - ya know the rest.” 

Piper gave her a second to chew on it, gauging her reaction before asking. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?” 

“No… I was an only child, my mother had plenty of complications with me that she decided she wouldn’t have anymore.” Princess shakes her head, “…I always wanted a sibling though.”
She laughs, “Trust me, it’s not as cracked up as it sounds - if you’re the older sibling, you’ve got all this responsibility- and if you’re the younger - you’ve got all these expectations.” Piper looks at the advertisement again. “What about him?” 

Princess also looks, and stares for a long time before saying. “No, an only child as well, but I never met his parents.” Piper watched her think for a moment, “Come to think of it - I don’t recall my Mother making an issue of it either.” 

“Just your mom? Was your dad not in the picture?”
“Oh, no no, he was.  But he married into the family, the power belonged to my Mother, so his opinion was rarely valued by her.”
“Damn… that’s… cold .” 

Princess considered it, whatever thoughts she had made her scrunch up her nose. “Father wasn’t the most… pleasant man. I believe my Mother was fond of calling him a weasel.”
That sounded like a nightmare to live in. “Wow…that’s… Uh… interesting.” Princess’s eyes refocused, and she tried to pull at the metal advertisement. Unfortunately, a line across the chest gave way to the rest and split. 

It was a smaller piece of scrap, a likeness that Princess now hugged to her chest. “Let’s… let’s get going…” It felt cruel that the only picture Princess has of her husband… was a piece of junk. Piper chews the inside of her lip, finishing off the cigarette and flicking the nub off as they picked up again. Park Street was named, as there was a massive park encircled by businesses and road - once perhaps it was a little haven before the bombs fell. 

Piper didn’t come out this way because of… 

Wait . Where’s- “Princess! Wait!” Piper hisses as loudly as she dares, running to try and catch Princess before she crosses into Swan’s Pond. Dogmeat and her both look back at Piper confused… but moving still, further into park. “Piper- what-“

The Reporter grabbed her by the wrist, attempting to pull her back and it felt as if she was trying to stop a sentry bot. She dug her heels and tried to pull her back… “Just hang on-“
Princess pulls her hand free, yanking Piper forward off her feet. Tumbling with Dogmeat chasing after her to give her a slobbery kiss. “Hey! What fuckin gives!”
“I don’t like reporters touching me without permission.” Princess says with a vexed tone, but she still goes to Piper - offering a hand to help her back up. “Next time -“
Dogmeat started snarling beside them, and the pond started sloshing. “Fuck- hide! Hide-!” Piper scrambles, there really isn’t much coverage, a couple low walls and the surrounding fencing. 

She didn’t wait to see if the dweller followed, she could hear Dogmeat barking - as a deafening shout carried through the air as Piper dove behind a short wall.
Incoherent bellowing sent birds scattering and thumping that shook trees and the ground beneath her. She clasps her hand over her mouth, listening - for Princess and Dogmeat. When nothing stood out…

Piper risked a look over the wall, and felt the blood rush out of her face; eyes wide as the Behemoth stomped around the park. She searches for the other woman and her dog, and then ducks back down when Swan turns abruptly. Where did she go? 

“How does someone as tall as her fucking just- disappear?” Piper hisses, listening to the massive bastard throw his tantrum behind her.

An odd noise follows, one that has Piper sweating profusely as she tries to puzzle it out when Princess’s voice calls out. “Piper! Run!” Swan roars, and Dogmeat barks. Piper bolted - running immediately to the outside edge of the park. Lungs burning behind her a chunk of ground smashed into the wall she’d been hiding.
And she isn’t proud of it - but Piper booked it in the direction of Goodneighbor, until she was puking but when she looked up. There’s the ramshackle barricade, decorated with the neon sign… 

Goodneighbor .

“Thank fucking…” Piper huffed, staggering through the door and shutting it behind before she started turning back to the Main Street of the slum…

Goodneighbor wasn’t glamorous, but anyone who told you Diamond City was some paradise was probably partaking too hard of Day Tripper - but the biggest difference was that she didn’t even take six steps in before some bozo in a leather jacket steps in front of her. “Oh come on-“
“Heeyyyy, you’re the dame who write Publik Occurrences.” He flicks out a switchblade, twisting it around his hands. “I should probably take any caps off you - so people don’t bother you…”

“Is that the best you got? Lame… ” 

Piper’s eyes drift past him, to the handful of people who were walking the square - a couple were watching, including a very revolutionary looking ghoul, who begun to approach.
But John Hancock ’s eyes started lifting up, as did the crowds as the door to Goodneighbor opened behind her. Piper looked back to her mugger, who looked completely confused as his attention went from his target to whatever had come in behind her. “What the fuc-“ 

A green duffle bag swings past Piper’s side, crashing loudly against the thug's chin. Ass over teakettle . Piper looks over her shoulder to find herself staring at the distinct blue of the Vault Suit. It was dirty as hell, splashed with mud but no mistaking it. “Oh- heh! You made it.” 

“I had to go around… so he didn’t chase you.” Princess has swung her bag back over her shoulder, wiping mud off her cheek as Dogmeat pops into view beside her. “Good thing that thing didn’t chase after us though.” Piper laughs nervously, and fixes her cap as the pair look forward again

This was a normal sight in Goodneighbor, most of the onlookers had continued on - except for the infamous John Hancock . 

He kicks the body onto its back, revealing in fact - the man was very deceased from the way his head was cocked. “Quite the entrance, a Diamond City Celebrity and her Amazonian bodyguard.” He grins, “Tryin’ to make a statement this time around?” 

Piper Muttered under her breath - “Well, if it isn’t my second least favorite mayor.” Behind her, Princess bumped her forward. “Right, right - Um, Mr. Mayor-“ The ghoul snorted, chuckling loudly with amusement. “Really Piper-“
“Ugh- honestly, it’s really been a long day man, can you not give me a lick of shit for once.” Piper snaps, and the ghoul’s humored body language tenses a bit. “Yeah, sure. But what are you doing in Goodneighbor- last I checked, you didn’t like wandering out of your little shack unless there was a story.” 

“This time is different, Hancock - can me and you talk somewhere? I’m waiting for Valentine to catch up.” Piper tilts her head back slightly at Princess. “A’right. You going to introduce me to the Dame that saved your skin this time?” 

“I was gettin’ to it. Princess Pendleton.” Piper says, finding the woman snapping to attention at her name, looking briefly bewhiskered. “This is John Hancock, Mayor of Goodneighbor.” 

Princess’s movement felt automatic, reaching out a hand to shake. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Hancock.” He looked her up and down, and Piper felt her jaw tightening with worry. Hancock took it, shaking it - “Nice to meet you Princess, you can call me Hancock. Formality isn’t too big around here.”
Hancock turns on his heel, “Come along.” Sauntering off to the Old State House with the trio in tow. 

People greet him as he wanders through, a couple whisper about Piper. ‘… Always appreciating good journalism… ’ She couldn’t help but smile at that. 

Up to his office, Fahrenheit, a tough looking gal in armor leaned up against the frame - a burn across her temple, singed through the hair line; pale blue eyes looking them over as they passed, sizing them up.
Hancock went to the balcony, “So Princess - take a seat, Fahrenheit - get the dame a drink.”
The bodyguard shoves off, and walks to a bar without any audible complaint. Piper was never quite sure what their relationship was; rumor was she was his current squeeze but she knew at least that she was a loyal follower of Hancock.
Princess followed, and Dogmeat laid at her feet without direction as Hancock motioned Piper after him.

“So her name’s really Princess?” He leans against the railing, to watch his guests over Piper’s shoulder. She taps her foot, glancing back before she speaks. “Yeah, it- look. Dollface over there… her husband just bit the dust in Trinity.” Hancock grimaces, “Why the hell did you bring her here then?”
“Because Nicky and I are helping her look for her son.”
“Why-”
“Because the Institute kidnapped him. Straight out of the Vault the two were frozen in.”
The mention of the Institute made Hancock’s face twist into a fiercely angry face. “Damn.”
Piper isn’t sure how long it took to catch the Mayor of Goodneighbor up, but by the time she finished, she turned back to Princess…
The woman was curled up onto the side of the couch, hand on her jaw - eye closed, legs tucked under her; trying desperately to take up as little space as she could.
Dogmeat was laying there, eyes open and watching the room for her.

“I’ve got to meet Valentine in Third Rail, is it alright if I leave her here?” Piper asked, watching Hancock step around her, grabbing a ratty blanket - showing it to Dogmeat carefully before gently wrapping it around the woman. 

“Yeah, sure thing. I’ll point her that way if she wakes up.” Hancock flops on the couch across from her, kicking his feet up and adjusting his tricorn. 

“What are you doing?” Piper asks, as he puts it over his face. “What does it look like? Taking a nap.”

          “Are you serious?”
He chuckles, waving her off.
“ I think Princess has the right idea, catching some z’s before beating some ass.”

Chapter Text

It was pressing well towards midnight by the time Dude and Nick arrived at Goodneighbor, the pair had their time to recover from Hubris, and the loot from that endeavor was a variety of pleb loot… comics for his wife to enjoy, the functional, heavy Grognak’s axe and Dude himself now was sporting the Silver Shroud costume. 

The black trench coat was a smidge bigger but this was normal for Dude - he might take the time to tailor it if Princess took a liking to it - however, it was Nick leading him to the Third Rail, a bar that was now nestled in the base of the old state house. A ghoul in a suit stopped Mr. Valentine and him at the door before letting them pass. 

“Piper should be down here somewhere, I’ll go ask Ol’Charlie if we don’t see her right away.” Nick says as they descend into the noise below. Music was playing, at first, he thought it was the radio - given the volume but as they stepped into the old metro, he’s pleasantly surprised at the sight.
A band was set up to one side, while a woman in a red sequin gown sang into the mic. “Huh, some actual talent .” Dude says aloud, before his eyes scanned the room to see if he could spot the reporter. 

The red jacket wasn’t standing out to him, but Nick made good on his word and moved to the bar where a white Mister Handy ran the bar. Instead of following, he decides to walk the edge of the room, listening to the singer until the poorly scrawled V.I.P sign caught his eye. 

Wandering closer, Dude catches the edge of voices talking - vaguely threatening - and his curiosity had him stepping into the room. 

Two men in vaguely military inspired fatigues stood over another, who was drinking with a tough face on. They looked over their shoulders as he walked in, sneering before giving their final warning. Dogs with their hackles raised , a pair threatening a loner… 

But with a sarcastic remark, the pair left - one nearly shoulder checking him as he past, only to find himself being tripped up in the process.
The man with a A+ tattoo over his eyebrow turned on him, snapping like a rabid dog. “Watch where you’re going Bit-!” Dude gazed up, offering up a simply blank look. “Or what, Kujo? Going to start a fight because you tripped over those big feet of yours?”
The other grabbed his arm, snarling low, “Barnes, let’s go. We don’t want a war with Goodneighbor.” The other regards him, at least the one with some sense to recognize the threat that he posed if they got into it. 

A few seconds passed before Dude turned back to the man, a bit rugged but thin and wiry and a long rifle was sitting against the chair beside him. “You got balls short-stack.” He takes a swig, before setting the bottle aside. “Looking for someone to watch your back?” 

“And how much would that set me back?” Dude smirks, and the man says. “250 caps.” It’s met with laughter, “200.”
The man scoffed, standing up - unsurprisingly taller, as many were in the wasteland. “225.”
“I’m afraid sir, unless you have a good excuse for the baggage that walked out the door. 200.”
“Means I’m good, competition trying to chase me out.” The man says, staring down at him. “And if I’m correct, those were Gunners - quantity over quality, so I can’t say I’m exactly impressed.”

Dude had been reading up from reports from Minutemen and Railroad Agents; a massive mercenary force that were over glorified raiders. If they seemed particularly irritated with the stranger, it meant a bigger bullseye on his back while wandering the wastelands. “So, 200 caps or I’ll just move along. It’s not like I’m not incapable of defending myself- the extra gun is just helpful on occasion.”
The man had some internal struggle, someone who really didn’t have much options to argue with - that 250 was the highest he’d dare with the circumstances. “Fine, the name is MacCready.” He offers a hand to shake, which is taken as Dude pulls out a tin of caps. “Dude Pendleton.” 

“Pendleton - the guy running the Minutemen?”

“The one and only, now-“ MacCready opened the tin, doing a fairly prompt count before looking up at him confused. “Earn the 250 I’ve paid.” 

Nick called out, “Mr. Pendleton?” Dude answers without looking away from MacCready, who was picking up his gear. “I’m here, Mr. Valentine.” The sleuth and reporter enter and Piper freezes at the edge. “I thought you were pullin’ my fucking leg Nick.” Piper says, losing a shade or two of color as she meets Dude’s gaze. He smirks, a little bit of teeth in the smile and she gives him a nervous laugh. “This is the second time I’ve left my wife in your charge Ms. Wright, and I don’t see her.” 

“She’s safe, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Piper says quickly, “She was exhausted, sat down and fell asleep.” Dude felt his eyes narrowing at her, she held her hands up. “Look, I’m not dumb; I’m not moving her once she stops and she doesn’t strike me as a someone that appreciates being woken up after falling asleep.”
“There are exceptions.” Dude smiled again, which had a confused look before she looked visibly disgusted. Nick turned his face away but it wasn’t hard to see the mixed emotions of his opinion. “Anyway, Mr. Valentine, Ms. Wright - this is MacCready. A hired gun for the time being.” 

There was a nod, a mumble of an exchange between the three. “Piper, if you could show MacCready to my wife - than join Mr. Valentine and I at the Memory Den.” The group headed back out into the bar, back into the darkened slums of Goodneighbor. 

Led to the old theater, letters missing on the front but below above the doors was a fairly well made sign of ‘Memory Den.’ Dude doesn’t comment on the haze that fills the lobby, lined with machines that felt vaguely familiar. It was interesting to see tucked into one of them, Deacon in one of his little disguises - but his attention is taken when the woman and the Detective start talking.
“Well, well, well, Mister Valentine.” She stands up from her lounge chair at the end of all these machines, sashaying over to the synth to place a kiss on his cheek. “I’d thought you’d forgotten about little ol’ me.” She’s met with a hug, and as she leans back she fixes his tie. “I may have walked out of the Den, Irma, but I’d never walk out on you.” 

She laughs, fixing his coat with a fond smile. “You flirt , what can I do for you today?”

Nick Valentine turned slightly, “I need to see Doctor Amari, is she in?” ‘Irma’ looked Dude over, before nodding. “Hmph, she’s downstairs.” She fixed his hat, and headed back to her seat. “Don’t be a stranger, come see me after you’re all done?” 

The Detective chuckles, “Of course.” Nick fusses with his coat again as he turns to talk to Dude before smiling a bit.
“Dude!” Princess called out to him, and was barely the warning to turn in place to meet her embrace. Her laughter is sweet and bubbly, spinning him around with her before she sets him down again - happy tears as she fixes his hair, resting her hands on his cheeks. “Have a nice nap, love?” He asks, reaching up and placing his hand over hers. “I had a horrible dream… but it’s alright now…” His beautiful wife places a kiss on his forehead.
He squeezes her hand, finds Nick walking ahead - leaving himself, MacCready, Dogmeat and Princess in the walkway. “No Piper?”
“She said there was something she had to do back at Diamond City.”
“Mmm, very well.” Dude hums, “I don’t know if this is something that would call for your talents, Princess. So why don’t you find something to do in Goodneighbor - Mr. MacCready’s services are paid for, so he’ll watch your back in my stead.”
She looks briefly skeptical, worried about being separated again. “And when this is all said and done. Let’s go back home.”

Dogmeat barks, and she nods. “Alright Dude.”
“Oh, and one more thing.” He pulls his bag off, before offering a wrapped extension of it - it wasn’t a mystery really; he covered it to downplay it’s worth but Princess pulled away the old cloth with wide eyes at the ax he’d gifted her with. “I thought this would suit you.”
Princess holds it, looking over the edges and detailed work of this art of the Old World.
“Thank you.” Another kiss that lingers before they part ways - he went to his business, hearing MacCready crow over Grognak’s ax in her hands as they left as well. Apparently a fan…

Downbelow, Nick was speaking with the Doctor - who was introduced as Doctor Amari - who seemed familiar with running procedures involving memory. He’d remember that for later. “Nick - you know how this place runs, our clients are typically only viewing their own memories.”
“I know, I know but… I need a favor. We need a deep dig, Amari. But it’s not going to be easy -” He motions, and Dude pulls out the tin containing the bits of the mercenary, passing it to Nick. “-Our perp, Kellogg, is already cold on the floor.”
“Are you two insane?!” The Doctor stood up from her chair, “Setting aside the fact you’re asking me to defile a corpse - you do realize that the simulators require a living brain to work-”

“Amari, this dead brain has knowledge of the Institute.” Nick says, pleading the case for Dude while he drifts about the room. “The biggest scientific secret of the Commonwealth, you need this - and so do we.”
The woman drags her hand through his hair, returning to her seat and facing away from Nick with an angry sigh.
“I wouldn’t ask you to do this if I didn’t think it was important.”
“....Fine.” She concedes after a few minutes of silence, holding her hand out. “...I’ll take a look but I cannot… make any guarantees.” Nick placed the tin in her hand, “Thank you.”
Doctor Amari opened it, and immediately snapped off. “This is it?! This isn’t a brain- it’s…” Amari held it up to the light, “This is the hippocampus… with… what is- a neural interface?” 
Nick made a face, “I thought those circuits looked familiar…”
“It’s not all that surprising- a lot of the Institute's technology shares similar designs from what I’ve seen - which means…” Amari turned to Nick, “Even with you being an older model… It could just hook right in. If we’re lucky.”
       “But it would be risky-”
“Don’t worry about me Amari, let’s do it.” Nick pulls off his coat, “We’ve got a missing kid on the line, any risk is worth it.”
Amari looked at Dude, as if finally acknowledging his existence again as Nick moved over to the seat beside the memory lounger.
“If I start cackling like an old, grizzled merc - pull me out, okay?”
The Doctor stepped up behind him with the augmentation, pulling open the back side of Nick’s neck and head to start messing around with it; all the while Dude was watching like a hawk with terribly morbid curiosity.
It was back and forth for a few minutes, testing the implant - but by the sounds of it - it wasn’t so simple.

“...It appears the Institute has one last failsafe… there’s a lock on the memories in the implant.” Amari huffs as she sits back up.
“Mmm, and how does one lock memories, Doctor?” Dude asks, and Amari scratches at her hairline. “It… think of it like computer encryption… and we don’t have the keep.”
“I’m familiar with how encryption works, does Mr. Valentine have the capabilities to break it?”
“Not on his own, but… what if we had your minds work in tandem, both of you in memory loungers - he acted as the host, while your consciousness broke the encryption…”

“You’re the expert, Doctor Amari.”
“You give me too much credit, who knows what will happen given this is only a fragment of the whole… I doubt anything you'll see is going to be…cohesive..” Amari looks back at Nick, Dude snorts - slapping and rubbing his hands together. “Alright then, let’s get started.”
Amari stretches her arm out, pointing to the memory lounger. “Take a seat…and… cross your fingers.”
Nick regards him somberly, and the pair share a nod. “See you on the other side.”
The two split off, one to each lounger and Dude settles into the mediocre chair within - watching the bubble lid lower down with a screen.
Amari starts talking as he stares into the ‘Please Stand By’ the static creeping out past the edges of the screen.
“-We’re going to load you into the strongest memories we can find - they might not be stable… but hold on!” Her words distanced themselves as his consciousness moved away from reality, between blinks - the white static is replaced by a deep blue, with flashes of red and orange along strange branches.
The Doctor’s voice comes through, explaining what was happening but Dude looked around waiting for something to catch his interest - so he started following the strange path.
Before long, he found himself standing in a simple room - a kid on a bed, a woman with a book beside it.
Kellogg’s grating voice took the place of Amari’s, this was his childhood - apparently.
Dude had nothing but contempt for Kellogg at this point.
He honestly could give two shits about him, his ‘origin’ to his tragic backstory to bring him to his final resting place under Dude’s wrath.
As soon as Dude finished with these memories, Kellogg’s name would fade from his thoughts.
He was worth nothing more than the paste that coated the floor in Fort Hagen. 

Memory to memory, a broken childhood, a broken family- boring.
It wasn’t till the memories took shape of Vault 111 did Dude bother to pay attention.

‘I was now the Institute's main operator in the Commonwealth, if they needed something done. They came to me.”
          “It wasn’t usual for anybody from the Institute to come along on a mission…”

Dude listened now, but his eyes followed the hazemated scientists - walking up beside them to watch them input codes into the consoles. Committing those to memory was more important in his eyes as the merc’s ramblings…
“ I didn’t know who we were grabbing from the Vault. Of course, neither did they really.”
          “ I was cocky enough to believe that I could handle some soft, pre-war Vault Dweller. Even if he got thawed out.”
Dude looked up and stared at the memory, frozen still as his eyes focused on the scarred man. “ At least I know those Institute bastards are going to get what's coming to them too.”
          “If he could take me out. They won’t be able to hide from him for long.” 

It started moving again, the familiar voice of the Vault and hissing as pods started thawing out. Calling out the pod that Princess and Shaun had been in…
The Institute was looking for them… for his son specifically, Dude followed the scientist and Kellogg away from the main console and movement caught his eye.
      They’d thawed out everyone.
People were squirming and fighting to get out of their coffins - given the documents that Dude had read before their exit, he’d assumed everyone else had died of complications before they’d been woken up.
He looked at his neighbors, many of whom were nameless to him now - they’d been pawns in his life, companions to Princess while he was away with work.
The scene played out as Dude remembered it, watching the scientist pull Shaun away from his wife and Kellogg try to kill her.
When they didn’t immediately disappear, Dude marched over to the other scientist at the computer who was entering the commands again.
       Sabotage.
The Institute refroze them, and killed the rest of the Vault’s inhabitants.
“What a bloody fucking waste.” Dude hissed into the silence as the memory began fading, and as soon as the next path opened up, he was storming ahead.
When he appeared in a shack, with another child but the brilliant coppery red hair grabbed his attention…
Kellogg’s house.
Amari said it was a pretty recent memory, good news. 

Kellogg was cleaning a gun at the desk, when a man in a black trench coat and sunglasses entered- the draw was quick, but the stranger didn’t flinch as he stepped further into the room.
Dude watches the exchange, eyes flicking between ‘Shaun’ and the stranger as Kellogg threatens him.
New Orders. Hunt and kill a rogue Institute Scientist. Dr. Brian Virgil - hiding somewhere in the Glowing Sea…

When they were finished, the stranger looked to his son. “Come stand by me.” The boy obliged and the pair stood on the other end of the room. ‘X6-88 ready to relay with Shaun.’
Shaun waved to Kellogg, saying goodbye before the two abruptly disappeared in a blue flash that stung the eyes.
The memory started blurring out as Amari spoke, rambling onto the implication of teleportation..

The TV behind him lit up. “Let me get you out of there.”
With no further prompting, Dude touched the screen and reality became present again around the static filled screen.
As soon as the pod opened, Dude shoved himself to his feet and gritted his teeth against the wave of dizziness that hit.
“Easy- take it slow…I don’t know what side effects that this procedure could have- I’ve- none has ever…done one before.” Doctor Amari aimed to catch him from losing his balance but he waved her off. “How are you feeling?
“Nothing I am a stranger too, Doctor.” He says as he steadies himself, and she starts asking him to self monitor for potential long term effects.
“Naturally, where’s Mr. Valentine?”
“He went upstairs…I… don’t you want to talk about what you saw?”
“I have what I need, a rogue scientist and the knowledge that they have the ability to teleport.”
Dude starts walking, leaving Doctor Amari flabbergasted. “But the memory said he was in the Glowing Sea! No one goes there!” She yells after him, and Dude simply yells back. “Then it’s the perfect hiding place, Doctor Amari. Thank you for your assistance, I’m sure we’ll talk in the future!” 

Returning to the Den’s main floor, making his way to Nick across the room who sat rather still as he approached. “In one piece, Mr. Valentine?”
Nick looked up, and a twisted smirk appeared on his face - a garbled rendition of Kellogg’s voice came out of the Detective.
“ Hope you got what you looking for inside of my head.” A broken laugh, “ I was right, I should’ve killed you while you were on ice.”

Perhaps he might’ve been angry, thrown back some challenge at this ghost - but instead - he returns the laugh, starting to unholster his trophy revolver. “Is that in my head, or yours, Mr. Valentine?”
“What-  what are you talking about?” The Detective asks, with visible confusion on his plastic face.
Dude stares, contemplating his response before shrugging, resting that gun against his thigh. “You sounded like an old grizzled mercenary, Nick. I almost went for round two.”
Nick blinked a few times before shaking his head. “Amari warned me there might be some residual… but it won’t last.”
                     “I hope not, Mr. Valentine. For your sake.”

Chapter Text

He’s alive- he’s alive-he’s alive!

Princess was so caught up in the fact her husband was alive that she rushed to the Memory Den as quickly as she was able. Relief had been a sweet anodyne for the growing heartache… but as quickly as she’s been reunited with him, Princess is being promptly dismissed. 

She understood though it didn't lessen its sting. Her capabilities were… specialized to a handful of things. Business Management, Law, Violence and Fashion… and for now, there wasn’t much in the way of three of those things. But! She has been thinking about drafting up Laws for the Commonwealth… 

But came the somewhat awkward part, as she stepped outside with the man called ‘MacCready’ - the introduction had been pretty fast, a passing thought once Piper explained Dude was alive and she’d left quickly enough she didn’t realize he followed her there. “So, Mr…MacCready?” 

He still looked briefly off put by her height, craning a bit to meet her gaze. “Yes Ma’am?” She offered a smile, “…Well, I will admit I don’t exactly have the slightest clue what to do around here. This is my first visit.” Princess says, “Are you more familiar with Goodneighbor?”

“Yeah… sure. Um-“ He starts, and she adds on quietly. “I know being a tour guide isn’t what you had in mind, I’m sure when my husband hired you. But I’m sure you’re a bit more sure of where one can wander freely and one cannot.” 

MacCready lifted a brow before looking around the road. “I guess I can show you around… But to be honest there isn’t a lot here besides the Third Rail, the Den and a couple stores.”  Dogmeat shoved his snout into MacCready’s hand unexpectedly and got the man’s attention, to which he kneels and gives the mutt a good scratch around his ears. “Who’s a good boy-?” Of course, Dogmeat barks in reply. “He’s called Dogmeat.” 

“Really? That’s funny - I remember some lady in the Capital wasteland that had a dog named the same thing.” MacCready says as he stands up. Princess tilts her head, “The Capital Wasteland? Like… Washington DC?” 

MacCready acknowledged her with a nod, before they started walking again. “I heard ya husband is prewar… and safe to say you are too given the suit?” She hums, in reply. “Of course.” She fixes a leather piece of armor, as if it could hide the distinctly blue from the world. More awkward silence as they circled around to Daisy’s Discounts and Kill or Be Killed. 

As they approached Daisy’s Discounts - MacCready spit, “Not this guy again- hang on.” Inside a raider was tapping the counter with a knife, threatening the proprietor on the other side. The merc grabbed the raider by the arm and swatted aside the attempted stab - it was a quick dance, before MacCready had him with his arm twisted behind his back and yanking him away.
“Thanks MacCready.”
“Notta problem Daisy-” He grunts, pulling the raider back out onto the street. The second he let up pressure to throw him; the man tried to grab his side arm and MacCready decided to just swing him towards Princess. “Heads up-!”
Princess reflexively sticks her arm out, and ends up making contact with the man’s nose. “Ah, fuck! You fuckin’ bitch!” He yells out, nose gushing blood as she grabs the collar of his ragtag armor to steady him. “Tsk- that’s rude.” She says, “Apologize please.” 

He opens his eyes as he holds his face - to look surprised that her eyes were above his eye level. Princess watched the man go from anger, to confusion to that distinct retreat as Princess lifted him slightly so his feet weren’t fully on the floor. 

“What the fuck did your mama feed you-“ He hisses, and Princess frowns at him. “-Sorry, sorry! Now let me go.”

“Use your manners, please.” Princess sets him down, “And apologize to…Daisy?“ She looks at the ghoul behind the counter, who nods with confirmation. “Miss Daisy.” 

The raider considered his options, before saying dejected. “Please let me go.” Princess did, and grabbed a bit of rags to offer as she motions to Daisy. The man shuffled over, hiding his face behind the cloth. “…Sorry Daisy.” 

“Accepted, now get out of here and don’t come back.” He nods, and scrambles out of the shop. “Thanks, both of you.” Daisy smiles up at her, “I saw you come in with that reporter - dealt with that scumbag, Finn.” Princess rubs the back of her neck. “Y-yeah.”

“Here, for your help.” Daisy pulls a couple tins onto the counter, MacCready took one, and Princess the other - it was a mixture of caps and some chems. Her heart skipped a beat at the familiar prescription bottle of buffout - but she closes it and tucks it away. “You didn’t have too…but thank you Miss Daisy.”
“Miss Daisy, how cute.” Daisy laughs, “Whatchu up to MacCready?”
“Got some bodyguard work for her and her husband, so I might be out of Goodneighbor for awhile - are you going to be alright while I’m gone?”
“I’ll be fine, you be careful. I saw some gunner boys earlier.”
Princess gives them some space to talk, casually peeking around the corner to the storefront next store.
It was to her surprise when the Assaultron that was putting an ammo canister onto the counter looked at her. “Hello, come on in - the shop is open.”
Princess steps in and approaches the counter reluctantly - “Don’t worry, I don’t bite.”
The voice is feminine but the mod is unfamiliar to any bot she’s heard previously. “Welcome to ‘Kill or Be Killed’ . My new designation is KL-E-O - Kleo; a small shop owner. Can I interest you in my arsenal of death, destruction and disintegration?"
Princess thought about it, “I don’t know - maybe, you have anything that's better than this.” She pulls the shotgun out of her holster, snapping it open to pull the shells out before she puts it on the counter.
Kleo picks it up, closing it and lifting it to examine it for a moment. “Oh yeah, got another shotgun just like this but has quite the punch.”
She steps over to a locker, pulls out another and returns to the counter. On its stock, there is graffiti - a cartoonish illustration of a kicking radstag on one side, and the other had a number of scratched lines. 13 apparently.
“Kicks like a stag on psycho.” Kleo says as Princess picks it up, she flicks it closed and levels it to test its weight. It didn’t seem visibly modded, and Princess looked about - “Is there something I can test it on?”
“Absolutely, come back this way.” The Assaultron seemed delighted by the idea as she leads Princess into a small backyard to the shop, a couple targets set up. Bloodied ones in some spots.
Princess loads it up, and fires - the recoil was enough to surprise her, causing a strain in her wrist in response. A bit of fussing, she shakes it out as if it could help her make it feel better before giving the target any mind.
The buckshot had destroyed a heft chunk of it, smoking and the sawed offs ends were glowing. “Wow…” She blows, and looks at Kleo who stood still beside her. “Satisfactory?”
“Absolutely, how much…?”

There’s some haggling, Princess enjoyed that - understanding the worth of things, of markets - and including passing over her old one, and some other ammo she didn’t have use for. Princess walked away with this violent sawed off shotgun.
MacCready was waiting outside by the door, “Be careful with Kleo, she’s got a bit of a screw loose.”
Princess waves back at the robot, and gives him an uncertain look before MacCready speaks up again on their walk. “That ax - the one your husband gave you?”
“What about it, Mr. MacCready?”

He gives her a surprisingly sheepish look from someone who gives her the impression of a rugged man. “It’s Grognak’s ax, right?” She twists a bit, as if she’d be able to see it on her back before she pulls it off for him to get a better look at it. “It- yes, I think you’re right.” Princess says, his eyes lit up like a kid as he examines it. “Can I?” 

“Sure- careful, I think-“ She passes it to him, and while the weight of it didn’t bother her, he gives a bit of a surprise grunt before holding it with both hands. “Dang, this is awesome ! I grew up reading Grognak comics - fact -“ He took a few experimental swings into the alley they stood at the edge of. “-Learned how to read because of Grognak comics from a kid named Joseph…” Princess smiled, he mentioned briefly some of his childhood, growing up in the Capital Wasteland in a place called ‘Little Lamplight’. 

But as they start discussing this, a door bursts open - a couple men come running out, one clearly bloodied with a ghoul woman joining them as some Mirelurks give chase…. But they can’t quite fit through the door. Snapping claws after the ghoul, she screams after the men who went bolting into the neighborhood.

“MacCready-“ Princess says, he gives a short toss to her and swings his rifle off his shoulder. A couple shots to the crustaceans joint made it jerk back as Princess came in with a hard swing through the doorway. It wasn’t the only one, so as Princess cut down into it - the second that had been pushing to get around made its attempt, a shot to the face to stagger, followed up by her boot. Fishy smell filled the air and she wanted nothing more to make it go away so she hit harder. The crack as the shell is split under the ax strike. 

From that, it’s two dead mirelurks pouring blood and guts into the floorboards.

“God damnit!” The ghoul yowls as she steps back inside, “It’s everywhere! Fucking…” She continues as she walks over to a basement doorway, which was smashed through. Princess rested her weapon on her shoulder as she pushed the carcass aside with her foot. “Sorry, it seemed like the best course of action in the moment.” She says as apologetically as she could, before the ghoul turned on her. “You know what, you could make it up to me.”

MacCready steps in, “Or ya know. You could pay her for saving your skin.” 

She scoffs, “I don’t think so- you can help me out.” Princess and MacCready listen to Bobbi No-Nose’s demands. She wasn’t the most polite, but she did make Princess feel badly for the mess she made… 

Before she knew it, MacCready was chastising her along the way to Diamond City before she knew it. They were supposed to meet Bobbi there…

“I can’t believe you let her bully you like that.” MacCready climbs over the rubble, following after Princess and Dogmeat through the ruins. “Look! It was really rude to make a mess-“

“You were  saving her from Mirelurks! That bi-“ MacCready slipped a bit, “-That Lady, really has to get her priorities straight. You’ve got more important things to do-“ 

Princess stopped and looked at him, “At the moment, no I don’t, because until our leads turn up something about our son - and I would rather not sit around, twiddling my thumbs thinking about it.” 

The mercenary looked surprised, “Your son? What- what happened?” By the expression on his face, Princess would have to guess that Dude probably didn’t have the time to tell him yet. Princess drags her hand through her hair, looking up through the twisted metal and broken glass of the city of Boston. Her head stung. 

“…My son was kidnapped by something called the Institute…and we’re trying to get home back, he was…” She felt tears, and she rubbed her eye with her palm. “He was just a baby, and they took him.” 

MacCready looked at her sympathetically, “I’m sorry, I…” He scratched at his chin, as Dogmeat circled around. “I wouldn’t know what to do if they took Duncan…” Princess steps down from some debris, putting them a little more level with one another. “A father too?” The man nods, “Yeah, he… he’s with a friend right now, while I look into some things.” 

The pair were silent for a moment before walking again. “How old is he?” 

“He’s… turning seven this year.” MacCready’s voice was a mixture of hope and worry . A kind of woe that Princess was all too familiar with, “…Is…is he alright? Maybe-“
MacCready’s barriers snap up hard, “Look, with all do respect -“ And Princess turned to MacCready fast, “If it isn’t going to be respectful, Mr. MacCready- don’t start with it.” Steps that continue, over broken concrete and rusted metal before he speaks up again. “…We just met, and I don’t really know how much I can trust you. Or your husband. He’s paying for my gun. Let’s leave it at that.” 

Princess balances, turning and catching Dogmeat and setting him down as they come onto the alley that leads to Diamond City proper. “…I… can understand… Mr. MacCready… but…” Princess got in front of him again with a hand extended. “Mr. Pendleton and I don’t hire private contractors to expend and throw away. We like to keep quality around-“
MacCready waved, “Save me the sales pitch, as long as your husband is paying caps - I’ll do my job.” 

It made her sigh, a little disappointed that’s where the conversation left off. Guarded, and uncomfortable - maybe she shouldn’t have snapped at him… Princess is left to dwell on her thoughts for a few minutes, walking into the city with MacCready at her side and Dogmeat taking the lead for them. 

It was probably a good thing. The mutt leads them to a patron at the ramen shop - face hidden under a gas mask. “How the fuck did you get here before us?” MacCready hisses, and the ghoulish woman sneers and keeps her secret to herself - and stands up.

“I’ve got a job -'' Pointing up to the Mayor's box above. “-I’m going to break into the storehouse owned by the Mayor.” Princess tensed up, and flexed her hands as she stood there with discomfort. “But I’m going to need you to get an associate of mine, Mel - from the jail here.” 

Princess felt some tension leave, but anxiousness lingered in a jittery feeling. The end of the world had thrown a great deal of law & order to the wind… from what Princess had been seeing; the settlements had their own rules but beyond any walls… It was simple.

Don’t get caught. And if you do - kill. 

Self defense aside, and scavenging - Princess didn’t just break into places, a simple lock was enough to dissuade her from entering and exploring even if the place appeared abandoned.
MacCready cleared his throat to get her attention but the look he had on his face gave her the impression that he wasn’t buying whatever Bobbi was telling them. But …

Princess chewed her lip some more, she was talking about how the rich were living large - especially the mayor. That they wouldn’t be hurting anyone seriously by robbing someone like that. She wasn’t one to believe that off-hand, even now - The Pendleton’s family was rich; considered aristocratic even before the bombs. Food Shortages were rarely things Princess ever saw or experienced - while it wasn’t without it in the workforce of the Pendleton Shipping Company, Catherine ensured to give them vices when they couldn’t get food on the table. 

‘ The Romans had the colosseum,  The Catholics have their churches. I have speakeasies and the dockyards for fight rings. Clubs for flesh and chems. I am not the first to ease the working man’s empty stomach with vice. But I will be the best at it.”

Her mother’s voice in her thoughts made her look out and around into this city around the Ramen Bar. There is no luxury in sight, just squalor - rusted metal and warped wood. Muddy streets intermingled with the dropped garbage… and even the supposed rich on high… 

Princess didn’t see influence or wealth in the floating buildings there, just hanging on the edge of ruin. What Diamond City had was protection, the stadium walls that have held together by some miracle for two hundred years.

“…I… don’t know if I feel comfortable doing this.” Princess says, and the noise of disgusted disappointment made her cringe. “What can I expect from a dweller anyway. Useless-“
“I’ll see about your friend Ma’am… I can at least do that.” Princess says over her complaining, and as soon as she got directions to the makeshift jail - she was heading that way. MacCready grumbled a bit, though he didn’t stop her. He was being paid to be here and at least Princess didn’t need to remind him of that…

The pair head to the ‘Security Office’, built into the old dugout from the stadium on the westside - Princess walking in and the DCS officer at the counter jerks in surprise. “Uh- can I help you?”
“Oh, yes - I was looking for someone called Mel.”
More surprise, “What? Why?”

“It’s not really important, I… what is he arrested for?” Princess queried, and the Officer snorted. “He was caught trying to reprogram the Bartender at the Taphouse to give him free drinks…” MacCready added with a bit of a chuckle, and the guy leaned forward with a bit of a laugh himself. “Between us three, if I knew how -I’d do it too.”
“I… well..I need him, is there a bail I can pay?”
“Bail?”
Princess explains, and the guy shushes her. “Look - 300 caps and I’ll let him out early.”
She tenses, a bit of anger touching her expression. “Excuse me?”
“Take it or leave it.”
Princess had a weird feeling she shouldn’t have brought up the word money, but she’s digging caps out and tosses a tin onto the desk. “Alright, buddy- you’re free to go.” He stands up, and walks around to unlock the cell, releasing its inhabitant who hurried to leave. Mel speaks up as they exit. “Thanks for getting me out.”
Once a good distance from the office's doors, he leans against the wall and gives them a look over.
“I’m going to assume Bobbi sent you.”
“Yes, my names Princess and this is MacCready, she asked us to get you out.”
Mel rolled his eyes, crossing his arms as he looked around. “She doesn’t have a patient bone in her body, god, she couldn’t even wait a day-”

“A day?” MacCready snapped. “Wow.”
“Yeah, crazy isn’t it.”

“You’ve… worked with Ms. Bobbi before?”
“Oh yeah, enough to know she’s not the most trustworthy person around . The team might change but it always comes with cryptic instructions.” He answers, “You’d have better luck milking a rabid yao-guai than getting a straight answer from her.”
“...Great.” Princess mumbles, and MacCready speaks up for her. “Something about breaking into the Diamond City strongroom?”

Mel’s eyebrows shot up, and he put his hand on his chin. “Well damn, if that isn’t a big score - that’d keep me going for a long time…”
“Look, if you’re hurting for caps - Bobbi might be shady, but she always pays up in the end.”

Mel starts moving before Princess and MacCready can speak up, “Look, I’ll get my stuff and I’ll head to her place. I’ll see you both there.”
An awkward silence before Princess touches the bag she usually kept caps in - it felt dreadfully light after spending that much money on that. “...I feel like I just got robbed.”
“You’re telling me, 300 caps? Ripoff.”
They both share a mutual sigh and she looks at MacCready.

  “Let's go.”
“Where?”
“Back to Goodneighbor, obviously.”
“Seriously? Come on-can we at least get something to eat?!”
Princess conceded to that with a terrible grumble of her stomach, the pair stopped back at the Ramen Bar… MacCready helped her order, though it looked like the Protectron looked broken - but warm food and a bit of eased tension between the two of them made it better. 

Eventually they went back, much grumbling and complaints from both of them, and even some input from Dogmeat - time was flying by as they returned to Bobbi’s house. Mostly clean of the Mirelurk guts and descending down into the dugout tunnel below...

Bobbi No-nose and Mel were talking when they arrived, and Dogmeat came to sit under a black and yellow…eyebot.
“Alright, we’re all here.” Bobbi says, “Why don’t you introduce your little friend, Mel.”
The man looks pretty proud of himself as he motions to the robot, whom Dogmeat was pawing at beneath. “Yup - meet Sonya. This little bot is gonna help us go through the earth like a molerat on jet.”
MacCready looked as confused as Princess felt, and didn’t hesitate to say what she was thinking either. “Riiight…because a robot with no hands… is great…for digging.” Offense is clearly taken by the reply, “What did you expect? A Mr. Handy with a shovel?”

The explanation of Sonya goes… a little over Princess’s head, something about radio frequencies and sonic blasts, as simple and short as it was. Science and technical things were not her forte.
“Mel says it’ll get us to the strongroom ten times faster than just digging and much safer than loading this place up with dynamite.” Bobbi explains, and Mel makes a comment with some uncertainty about what might happen.
So they all stand back as he orders it - her - to go to a dirt filled doorway. Sonya beeps and there's a brief flash of light, a tingle across the skin. Dogmeat lets out a whine, tail tucked between his legs before everyone starts filing ahead. “...Whats with the new girl…?” Mel asks Bobbi as they walk into the new tunnel, while Princess knelt down to comfort her dog.
MacCready hovered between the two groups, waiting on her. “You sure you want to do this? Looks a bit-”
He looks back down the hall, “-Cramped.”
Princess nods reluctantly, and he was right - she has to bow her head a little bit through the hallways, but then open up into some sewer maintenance area. Maybe.
More mirelurks showed up, since their nest was disturbed - but shotguns and an ax really cleared it out.
Sonya would clear out a path, leading into a dead end that Dogmeat, MacCready and Princess scout ahead in. Princess is surprised to find some rusted power armor, wondering how it got here.
Dogmeat’s bark was the only warning she got, as something blurs in the corner of her vision slamming into her side.
She hits the pool of water within the room and her head dips under it as the amphibious creature starts slashing into her.
It fucking hurts and her mouth is filled with foul water, The gunshots are just muffled flashes before Dogmeat lunges into the things arm - throwing it off balance as she jerked herself out of the water to spit it out.
Of course, it didn’t last long, not with that much attention from armed individuals.
“Gross, gross, gross-” Princess fusses, getting out of the water - searching for a stimpak and flinching away from the words Bobbi had to say about her whining.
“Can you fu-....can you ease up?! So damn rude.” 

Princess looked at the bullet ridden corpse, the things awful blood oozing out and discoloring the water. “What was that?” She says, using the ax to adjust the head and still shudders. “ Commonwealth Mirelurk King, darn things are sneaky as hell.” 

“…There’s more than one kind?” 

“Oh yeah-“ MacCready explained how the ones in the Capital Wasteland were more human-like, but shared most of the same abilities. It made traversing through the Mirelurk gunk and old water much easier, Dogmeat would need a good scrubbing once they got back home. 

A bit of distraction in its own right, as she wondered how with water being a bit of a commodity. It would be wasteful… 

Another blasted wall leads into a subway tunnel, and Bobbi says with a bit of unwavering confidence. “ Good, we’re on the right track. ” 

Mel, MacCready and Princess all shared a bit of a laugh as Mel spoke. “Ah, I see what you did there.” Which leads to irritated confusion; “What? No-“   She glares at Mel before stepping into the old train tunnel. “-Just keep heading southwest.” Taking the lead, Mel lingering as MacCready and Princess followed through. “Is she always this-“ 

“Bitchy?” 

“Yeah.” Mel nods, “But it’s good work, most of the time.” He hurries after her, and they start talking. It was a rather short conversation as they stepped into the station proper… and found its residents. Ghouls, burned and charred - one gangly, withered really caught her eye because it was faster than any of the other ones by a notable degree. 

This was harder than the mirelurks, even if their nails were duller, and most did not have teeth to properly bite - getting pummeled wasn’t pleasant. Even for someone like Princess, especially when she’d only healed up claw marks less than an hour prior. The area was still tender!

MacCready was a good shot, quick to the draw - and he communicated well for Princess to take cues from him. It kept them all from being overwhelmed despite the distinct number advantage the Ghouls had. It was frightening , she wondered how long some of them had been down there as they proceeded ahead. Onward, another wall for the little Sonya to blow apart and into another part of the subway. With more ghouls… and Bobbi brings up that there might be some radiation to worry about - ‘no skin off her face’. 

“… Colorful expression, Bobbi.” Princess says, as Mel comes around to her left side. “A good thing one of us got a robco-pipboy.” He looked excited by it as she extended it to him, “Not to gush, but these are a rare find around these parts-“ “Are they?”

He nods, “Once a blue moon word gets around when someone wanders through. Last one was about ten years ago. I was pretty young but people get excited about those sorts of things.” 

Princess hums thoughtfully, and MacCready bounced some of his experiences with Mel, they felt about the same age given the way the both talked. 

“Do you think they were from one of the local Vaults?” Princess asked in a pause as they found themselves making their way up some stairs. “Oh, no - I think they came from the south, I never saw it myself- just remember the fellow  junk rats being excited about it.” 

MacCready takes the lead, rounding corners carefully with Bobbi next and then Mel & her. Dogmeat creeping at her side is much quieter than usual… She supposed the dark subway tunnels weren’t his favorite either. It felt like a maze, wandering through subways and again into the Boston Sewers before Bobbi mentioned something about being around Brewery that was connected to the strong room. 

Another fight of ghouls, and her introduction to a glowing one was even worse than the Mirelurk. Battered and bruised - she ended up passing around some stimpaks, and definitely some rad away to the gentlemen and Dogmeat while Bobbi looked around the rooms above. Mel’s eyes followed her, and Princess watched - it felt… like he was suspicious?
Another blasted wall and they found themselves in some pooling water - Bobbi complained about her socks getting wet before she looked up at the decrepit ceiling above. “There it is, the Diamond City Srongroom.”
“...Ya’sure about that Bobbi? I’ve been mapping it out - and I think Diamond City is a little further north.” Mel questions, and she says with unwavering confidence in it. “There isn’t a doubt in my mind. How bout a little trust for the boss?”

“How about you tell us the truth?” MacCready snaps, and the ghoul woman just raises her hands. “We are under the Diamond City Strongroom and that's the last I’m going to say about it.” There is a tense exchange of looks, Princess gripping at the ax as Dogmeat huffed irritatedly.
She looks up and around for a moment, “Still going to need a way up there…Mel?”
“Ya, Sonya should be able to do something - the foundation is already crumbling.” He patted the side of the bot as it drifted up to him. “One blast and I bet it would come down. But we should probably back track a bit - don’t want to be in here when it goes off.” 

“Let’s clear out-” Bobbi says, and as they headed out - Mel prepped Sonya to blast at maximum power. Shuffling back into the previous room, the command went out and there was an unsettling rumble, dust blasting back through the hole and before it’s even really settled - the man was running back in. “Mel! Wait-” Princess followed after, promptly with the rest to find him clearing away rubble from the eyebot. “No, no, no- Sonya…”
“Mel- pull yourself together.”
“But-”
“With this haul, we can get you another one. Come on.” Bobbi snapped, starting up the newly made ramp. “Get your head in the game.”
Princess looks after her, frowning at Bobbi’s back before looking down to Mel as he gets up. “Sonya was really effective…” Princess rocks a little, “...I’m sorry that she got broken.”

Mel sighs, “...Its fine.”

“If you’re looking for work after this, I’m sure I can find a settlement in the Commonwealth who could use skills such as yours.” Princess offers, and he looks like he’s thinking about it as they walk the floor above.
The warehouse they’d broken into is sparsely supplied, Dogmeat brings a few pieces to her as Bobbi storms to a door; the group following in tow as they step out into a railway station.
Tracks rusted, an old rail car parked inside - some old equipment to the far side and…

“Bobbi, what are you doing here?” A woman's voice drew the groups voice above, and a familiar face alongside a set of men lean against the railing with guns leveled down at them. “Shit.” Bobbi hisses, and Fahrenheit looked disapprovingly amongst them before focusing her attention on Bobbi No-nose. “You really think Hancock didn’t catch wind of your ‘little’ scheme.”
“He took you in Bobbi, and you’re stealing from him?” 

Princess’s body tensed, and a bubbling anger started on the back burner as she looked at the ghoul. MacCready cocked his gun, “Friggin’ seriously?”
“And you two?” Fahrenheit looked at the pair of them. “Why are you here?”
Princess looked at her and then to Bobbi. “I was just protecting Ms. Bobbi, and MacCready works for me.” Bobbi sneared at her.
“Oh, kept them all in the dark huh? Nice No-nose, real nice.” Fahrenheit snorts, “You all just broke into Hancock’s storeroom.”
“God damnit Bobbi-!” Mel looked just as upset as MacCready did, and Princess could feel her cheeks starting to burn. “
“I know this isn’t what you all expected - but there's still-” Bobbi started, Mel interrupting her. “This is Hancock we’re ripping off here! He tends to hold fuckin’ grudges Bobbi!”

“He’s not the only one.” Princess adjusts the ax in her hand. “I don’t like being lied too!”
Bobbi’s eyes flashed between them all, Mel pushed - “Why the fuck did you lie to me!? After all the work we’ve done together?!”
“Nobody in their right mind would help me rip off Hancock, either they’re to afraid of him or in fuckin’ love with him.” Bobbi yelled, “He thinks he’s so damn invincible - I wanted to show him he wasn’t.”
“If that isn’t the stupidest fucking shit I’ve ever heard.” MacCready’s finger touched the trigger, Dogmeat was starting to growl.
It was heated, Princess really wanted to let out the frustration of the last couple hours of insults that this woman had lashed with her. She wanted to swing. “If you don’t leave, I’m going to take your head off.” Princess says with barely contained rage. “Get out of my sight.”
Bobbi looked at her, fingers tightening on the shotgun - contemplating fighting back.
“Fuck this.” The ghoul started to leave. Mel looked pissed, before following suit. “This is it Bobbi, never again.” “Yeah,yeah-yeah-”

Fahrenheit shouts after them. “I don’t want to see either of your faces in Goodneighbor, or else.” Princess kicked some garbage as the woman came down to speak with them. “You guys made the right move”
MacCready rolled his eyes, “Please - I’m not crazy, plus I’m not going to piss off the man who let me set up there.”
She chuckled, and looked at Princess who was trying to calm back down again. “Hancock will be happy to hear about your loyalty… You should go pay respects in person.”
Princess fought to not scrunch up her face. “...Of course.” Fahrenheit hums, motioning and the two men leave. “It’s best to stay on his good side. Trust me.”
MacCready followed her, looking over as Princess walked some distance away from the pair before taking the ax to a crate. “I think maybe, we’ll take the long way back Fahrenheit.”
“Princess looks like she needs some time to cool off anyway.”

Chapter Text

The meeting with Hancock is smooth, Princess explains what happened - and with him there, MacCready was able to give her words some weight. Though MacCready didn’t think he needed the reassurance, he was sharper than the drug addled persona would let on…
But there was a speech, Hancock deciding to bail on Goodneighbor - a shame really. He’d managed to wrangle some sort of order to this otherwise lawless part of Boston. MacCready was glad the Pendleton’s hired him on, because otherwise he might have to worry about the Gunners again…

Princess rejoined her husband, she stood behind him, arms around his shoulders as they listened to the farewell - whispering something to him. 

They were such a weird pair. Princess and Dude.
A mutant towering over everyone, a protective shield over the much smaller man - happy in their private conversation.
MacCready was pretty sure that if he just decided to wander away from her, he’d disappear like smoke - too many people would be watching her to notice where he had gone. When that speech ended, more than a few pairs of eyes shot to the woman as she stood up straight - some nervous, some curious and at least one considering a proposal before scuttling off into the ruins of the neighborhood. 

“Mr. MacCready-“ Dude gets his attention from the idle swivel he has, “We’re heading back to Sanctuary, no objections I assume?”
“No Sir.” MacCready replies, adjusting his rifle on his shoulder - following up with a question, “Where’d that synth go?” Dude flicks out the collar of his jacket, which admittedly was starting to scratch a part of the mercenary brain trying to figure out why it was familiar. “Headed back to Diamond City, I believe. But we’ll have Hancock joining us in his stead.” 

That made MacCready raise an eyebrow a little, he had been wondering what Hancock had planned to do after the shit with No-nose, and then the farewell speech - figured the ghoul was gonna go find a cozy little corner in the ruins and mind his own business for a while.
Maccready looks over at Princess, who was securing a little pack to Dogmeat - slipping pieces of paper into them; talking to the mutt like it was able to understand her. Though, he would admit - the dog seemed too. “What are you doing, ma’am?” 

Princess gave him a bright smile, stretching the burn that was along her cheek a little - “Sending out invitations for people to come visit.”  Sure enough, as she’s finishing up. “Go see Mr. Valentine, and then Paladin Danse, than Mr. Garvey, you got this, you clever boy.” She gives Dogmeat a big hug and scratches around the collar before the dog shoots off. Hancock dodges him by lifting a leg and spinning a bit. “Wow-wow, Timmy fell down the well or somethin’ somewhere?” 

Dude chuckles, but Princess answers with a continued grin. “No, no! He’s got places to be - he’s a very busy dog after all.” The ghoul just laughs back at her. “Right then, guess I should make myself useful.”
The four of them fell in step, returning to the ruins of Boston - traveling through the broken streets, bypassing Raiders and Mutants when they could - circling wide from Ghoul packs but it’s not always possible. 

He’s kinda surprised how easily Hancock was killing ghouls, doesn’t seem to bug him any worse than the Pendletons - he’s hanging back a couple steps when the ex-Mayor pulls his coat hard. “Watch it Mac-“ The ghoul points out a ghouls hand that flailed out from under some rubble. “Can’t keep them alive if ya dead.” 

“ Shi -shoot. Thanks.” 

“You’ve made a point to not swear quite often, why is that?” Dude asked, punctuating the question with a quiet chirp of his pistol - separated the ghouls arm at the elbow. “Ya know, I’ve always been curious myself.” Hancock adds, and draws Princess’s attention to the matter. “About what?”

“Why Mr. MacCready has avoided swearing.”

He puts his hands up, “Why is this important right now? We should get moving before it gets real dark.” MacCready didn’t like the attention they were all giving them, and he tried to get them to drop it. “It’s just a thing, that’s all-“ Hancock grins, “That’s a shittttttt answer Mac, makes it all the more interesting.” 

“Piss- bugger off.” MacCready snips, and it made Hancock laugh loudly , Dude Pendleton had a rather amused look on his face, while his wife looked like she was more confused by his answer than anything. “Get off my back.” 

An hour of back and forth needling, he was starting to wonder if this job really was worth it - a steady bit of pay and what appears to be an easy gig. But fuck if they all weren’t annoying. 

Especially Hancock. Dude’s not nearly as chatty, but everytime he spoke it seemed to spark the conversation again, sometimes away, sometimes not - Princess just seemed to be happy to talk to people so she wasn’t any help in his defense - though… why she seemed a bit nervous any time she spoke to him directly was weird but it was hard to think about right now. 

By the time that it got dark, MacCready needed some space from them. He made some excuses about finding something to eat and scouting out some places to rest for the night…
Hancock offered to come with, but he shut that down hard - MacCready moved faster on his own.
The Mercenary kept his gun handy, kept his feet light - they’d passed Bunker Hill a bit ago - he wondered if they should’ve just stopped there before it got late.
Suppose it’s not too late but back tracking didn’t seem to be anyone's favorite thing to do - waste of time, and risk.
A bit of breaking glass makes him turn, looking down his sight to find himself staring at Princess - which spooked him more the glass breaking itself. “Fucking- frick, damnit!”
Princess put her hands up, a sympathetic look on her face as he dropped the muzzle to the ground. “What the hell are you doing?! You can’t be sneaking up on me like that-”

“I just wanted to make sure you were alright-” She says softly, “-I didn’t mean to spook you.”
“How the fu-” He lets out a frustrated growl, “How are you so quiet?”
Princess gives him a gentle shrug, “Some practice.”
A momentary stare down, “You should go back to Mr. Pendleton, Ma’am.” MacCready steadies himself, watching her fidget in place as he glares at her. “They’ve settled down a block or so back…I said I would find you, help you back.”
He rolls his eyes, “Fine.”
“Mr. MacCready?”
“What?”

“Oh that isn’t fair, you haven’t said a cuss word yet!” MacCready snapped, and it was her to laugh. “Cause I’ve got a lot practice-“ 

MacCready stuck his tongue out, and was surprised to find her returning the favor. “Here, I’ll make this lunchbox your sweartin.” She shows a battered Vault-Tec lunchbox, “Even has a convenient spot to put the caps in.”  A serendipitous knife hole was probably made in one of their fights. “Okay, but what happens to the money? Do I get it back?”

“I think~ it’ll go into savings and then you can use it when you’re not working for me or my husband - so you don’t have to worry about it.” Princess suggests, and clearly his anxiety on the matter catches her attention. “I promise - that you’ll get it back whenever you need it.” She says, and offers a hand to shake. “It’ll be an account you’ll put into.” 

MacCready didn't know what sort of pre-war bullshit that meant, but his client seemed earnest - and so far with his experience with her; she didn’t seem the type to screw someone over. “Fuck it.” He shakes her head, and immediately groans when she shakes the empty lunchbox at him with a grin. 

1 cap rattles loudly before she settles it again in her bag. “Now let’s head back, Mr. MacCready.” Princess says, and the pair make their way back to where they stopped for the night. The BADFTL Regional Office. 

Princess stares at its faded sign, eyes a bit distant with some thought when MacCready speaks up. “Something the matter, ma’am?” The woman absently scratches at the inside of her arm as she shakes her head. “No, just remembering the last time I visited this building.”

“Really…? What does the letter mean?” 

“Bureau of Alcohol, Drugs, Tobacco, Firearms and Lasers. It was somewhere they stored contraband for investigations… sometimes they held people here.” Princess says as they enter, ducking her head through the entry. The smell of gunpowder was sharp, and a couple dead raiders were laying out in the entry. 

MacCready lifted his rifle, and Princess readied Witty Comeback to swing. But sure enough they found Dude and Hancock towards the evidence room, her husband leaning against the door frame, idle - a face that MacCready can only label as boredom. 

Hancock was picking through the raiders pockets, humming to some radio tune. “I see you’ve made your way back.” Mr. Pendleton says when he acknowledges they’ve entered the room, moving to Princess and kissing her hand when presented all so naturally. 

“Anything good?” MacCready asks, motioning to room labeled evidence. “No, someone already picked through it before.” Hancock answers, MacCready looks at the Raiders confused. “They did it?” 

“Nah, whoever did reactivated the turret and security systems - literally had these scavs tearing their hair out trying to figure out how to get past it.” Hancock points at the broken rig on the ceiling. MacCready laughed, “Are you serious? Who’d do that?” 

Dude motions to the evidence locker, “Likely whoever did that.” MacCready takes a look, and finds above the safe was a mural of broken glass, empty syringes and pill tabs. On top of the safe was a ragged cloth, with a dried out shot glass and gin bottle, with an addictol canister in a bowl.  All of it is dusty, so definitely not recently…
The mural of garbage catches his eye again, the shape reminds him vaguely of a face - a loose interpretation of it, but below that is: ‘Gift from Her.’ MacCready looked at Dude with a raised eyebrow, and he merely shrugged - “Hah! Nice!” Hancock shakes a box of mentats, tipping them easily into his mouth and following it up with a stray bit of whiskey from another raiders pack. 

“Mr. Hancock-“ Princess starts worriedly, and he dances a little in place as he finishes the drink, throwing the bottle to a wall to delight in its shattering. “That hit the spot.”

“-That’s bad to mix together without the right precautions.” 

Hancock laughed loudly, flexing his withered hands before looking over at her. The Mentats had given the ghoul the ability to focus more… because he immediately holds his hands outwards towards Princess. “Look, I’m alright. Being a ghoul has its perks, ya’see?” 

It doesn’t immediately assure her, MacCready notes - there’s still tension but she’s distracted by Dude again. He asks her about Grognak’s axe, and his eyes focus on the trench coat he was wearing again. “Oh son of a-“ MacCready hisses to himself, with Hancock laughing at him. “What Mac?” 

“The coat! It was bothering me for-“ He starts before Dude gives this fake , belly laugh before speaking much like those radio shows. “ Death has come for you… and I am the Shroud. ” Princess does a small clap, laughing alongside Hancock, but something about those words was unsettling.
MacCready had seen all types in his travels, fought and worked with all kinds - so when he realized it was because despite the smile, and the jovial tone - Dude Pendleton’s eyes lacked the gleam to match. His eyes were dead serious, especially when he made eye contact with MacCready. 

“Where the hell did you find that? With the ax?” MacCready asks quickly, shoving his discomfort back down. You don’t show weakness to a man like Dude Pendleton . 

“Correct- Hubris Comics not too far from Goodneighbor, apparently they were going to shoot the show there before the end.” He stretches, “As Hancock suggested, let’s bunker down for the night. Continue homeward in the morning.” 

A round of agreement, Hancock offers first watch - no one argues, although MacCready worried that the crash would make the ghoul useless towards the end. But a few winks of sleep would get him through till they found somewhere safer. 

He wakes up later, to be expected to hear Hancock snoring - laying on a desk with his hat over his face. Dude Pendleton has his own head bowed, eyes closed but as the mercenary swivels his head to check the room; he catches sight of Princess leaving the room.
Quieter than a ghost. 

MacCready is careful not to make any noise himself, the two other men would probably shoot first, not bother to apologize later if they were disturbed and he wasn’t feeling like digging a bullet out of himself at the moment. Creeping after Princess, he follows her through the building to a set of holding cells - an empty one that she bows into and sits down on the cot with an awful creak. 

Princess’s sigh is distant, and he leans around the corner to find her leaned back, staring at the ceiling. 

After a second, MacCready stepped into view. “Ma’am?” Princess’s eyes looked over at him, but she didn't turn her head. “…Sorry, Mr. MacCready, I didn’t mean to wake you.” 

He shakes his head, “I’m a light sleeper, comes with the territory.” He leans against the doorframe, “You alright?”
Princess’s hands rest in the folds of her elbows, quiet for a moment before she speaks. “I ended up in this room once, after I came back.” 

“…Came back from what?” 

“My tour, I was a power armored specialist in Anchorage.” Princess’s answer actually surprised him, it made a certain amount of sense - with how she fought - but her personality screamed far from it. “…You were a soldier?” She nods. 

“…I enlisted at eighteen, not really sure why I did it. But it was years before the bombs dropped.” Princess sighs, “I got an honorable discharge after most of my unit was wiped out, sent home because my suit busted and nearly took my legs. Happens when you’re just a touch too big and touch too strong for them.” Princess closes her eyes, considering her past as she sat in this holding cell, legs crossed at the ankles in a Vault Suit, so different from the young woman who’d come back from that hell. 

“…Most soldiers get addicted to some kind of chem, depending on what type of unit they served in or what their jobs were… I was a buffout and psycho junkie. I didn't want to tell my parents or… Dude… we had only met a little while before… but I was going cold turkey.” MacCready grimaced, watching her grip her elbows tighter. “…As you can imagine, it didn't go very well.” 

“That sounds rough.” 

“It was - ended up getting into a bad trip, bad fight, survived it better than the guy who thought fighting me was a great idea. I think he ended up in the hospital.” Princess opened her eyes at the snort he made, “Sorry, you’d think it would be common sense not too.” 

“You’d think, but we both didn’t have much sense at the time.” Princess replied with a strained smirk. “…So I ended up here, not entirely sure why… I was closer to other police stations than this. But… well… that’s how my Mother and Dude found out.” 

“Not thrilled, I guess?”
“…Neither were angry… but disappointment hurts worse, doesn’t it?” Princess looked ready to cry at the sheer thought of it, looking down at her hands as she interlaced her fingers. “…However, it did lead me to something I was truly fascinated with.” MacCready raised a brow, “Through the process to get it all cleared up… I learned about how lawyers work, the laws and things… and while I was getting clean… I started studying.” 

Princess laughs softly, “I’m glad it doesn’t take nearly as long as it did in the early 2100’s- I might not have had my degree before the bombs fell.” 

MacCready listened, it’s not like he knew much about this kind of thing, he looked out through the hall - making sure the way was still clear. “Do you regret it?” He asks, “Wasting the time?”
“…I don’t think it was a waste…” Princess replies, “It means that I have the know-how to help rebuild.” MacCready looks back to find her smiling again, “I’m already drafting up some ideas- and the trade routes should be opening up work for people….” 

There was hope in her voice as she rambled on about the logistics, how things were going to get better for the Commonwealth. He thinks she’s glad to have someone to talk to about it, even if he doesn’t always know everything but…
Dude’s voice spooked them both, “Telling him our grand schemes, Princess?” She stands, passing MacCready to get some sort of contact. “Oh yes~” She goes over a few details, he’s attentive - making an addition to one of her ideas. 

He kept listening, then there was a moment where Princess suddenly started stammering a word, with the first couple ticks seemed harmless but…
Dude’s query, “Darling?” is unanswered, her hands flexed repeatedly and MacCready steps closer. “Ma’am?”
It was only a minute before she inhaled suddenly, shaking her head and looking momentarily confused. “…I… sorry, lost track of what I was saying. Where were we?”

Before MacCready could ask, Dude simply moves the conversation along as if it was normal. “…Why don’t you go rouse Mr. Hancock?” 

“Oh, yes. I can do that- are we leaving then?” Dude nods, and she walks out a little unsteadily, and MacCready goes to step towards her, only to be stopped. 

“Not a word.” Dude says, and MacCready opened his mouth, “There is no reason to cause her more stress, I’m sure she is aware of it to some degree and I’m working to find a solution for it, understood?”

It was so matter of fact, no room to argue in his tone - despite being shorter than MacCready - it easily felt like the man was squared up to him. An unspoken threat that MacCready doesn’t appreciate. 

“Back off, Mr. Pendleton.” He says, as calmly as he can muster. “You pay me to watch your backs. Nothing about it says I have to play the tattle tale.”
That seemed to satisfy his client, but until Dude stepped away, MacCready realized his hand was on his side arm. “Making you nervous, Mr. MacCready?” 

“No.”
“Good.” 

And then he’s following after his wife with MacCready in tow. Princess has woken Hancock in a surprisingly gentle fashion, he looks at her confused a moment before giving her a wide smile and getting up without a fuss. The ruthless usurper of Goodneighbor being so compliant…
About thirty minutes after another scour of the building, the four head out - the Pendleton’s taking the lead, while MacCready and Hancock lingered back just out of earshot. “You were supposed to be on watch.” MacCready says dourly, “Hey, nothing happened - I checked the doors, made sure someone couldn’t just stumble in and I checked out.” 

“You should’ve just woken me up.”
“Nahhhh, you were still pissed at me from earlier, didn’t feel like addin’ to it.” The ghoul says with a light laugh, spinning the knife he carries around his hand. “Who says I was?”

“The look in ya eye. You’ve got a good poker face but not good enough to fool me.” Hancock hops onto a low wall, balancing as they walk. “These two seem to be alright.” Hancock adds, “Gotta couple screws loose in a few directions, but she’s got her heart in the right place and he’s got ambition to go places.”
MacCready presses his tongue against his teeth, watching Princess and Dude talk. “And your worrying bout whatcha got into.” 

“Hancock, can you fuck off?” 

“MacCready~!” Princess’s voice catches their attention, a bit of a mischievous grin on her face. “Oh dam-dang it.” He groans, digging into his pockets to find a cap, flicking it at her with his thumb only to find Hancock laughing, and something malicious in Dude’s smile. “Oh you’re never going to live this one down, Mac.” Hancock wheezed.
It made the remainder of the journey a travesty, as smoothly as it went it was still nearly a two days walk to Sanctuary from the BADFTL Office, and by then - the three of them had gotten him for about 87 caps. 

Why did he agree with this? Hancock had been right, he was wondering what sort of garbage he stepped into by signing up with the Pendletons… MacCready can see walls having been made around the old neighborhoods edges. A few exceptions dipping into the river - he thought floating but he could see posts that prop the wood and metal above the water level - with nets keeping debris away from water pumps. Those are defended by motorized turrets, and a couple guard posts are in sight of the bridge… 

But they don’t cross the bridge, they stop at the Red Rocket outside of it. “You… don’t live in the settlement…?” MacCready asks, eyeing the gate at the far side. “No, that is Princess’s preference.” Dude answers, watching his wife disappear into their refurbished home. 

          In the months that had passed, the open window frames had been fitted with shutters - which she pulled open as the rest of the approach. 

There is some walls to the south side, but not fully - opened up for the sun to be able to touch the newly established patch of dirt which was being tended to by a Mister Handy. “Codsworth!” Princess calls out from a door facing that garden, and the robot turns his eyes towards the group. “Oh! Good heavens! I must have been into my work, Miss Princess.” The robot floats over, “Mister Pendleton.” Dude shrugs off the trench coat, allowing the robo-butler to take his hat without even a moment's hesitation, hurrying inside.
“Codsworth- has anyone come by while we were away?”
“Not yet, although Mr. Sturges came to let me know that Mr. Garvey phoned in yesterday - he and a ‘Cait’ are on the way.”
“Good, good.” She disappears into another room in the building, and Hancock hops onto the windows edge to peer inside along with MacCready. 

It’s not an incredibly big space as most Red Rockets tend to be - a counter dividing that front area, which looked to be in the process of being retiled. A couple couches lined the back wall - with a small table across from that is fairly low to the ground, rugs covering most of that flooring and a curtain is hiding that backroom.
MacCready takes a side step, following where Dude goes to see the garage area has been converted into a workshop with a power armor frame hanging from the station, legs removed - resting on a cart with modifications to it.
There was an audible shifting, and more light came spilling in - which caused MacCready to walk around to the front of the building, bypassing a doghouse that had ‘Dogmeat’ painted above it’s opening.
Sure enough, as MacCready thought, he discovered a workshop - armor, weapons, the power armor - and a bench that looked in the process of separating materials with plenty of scrap sitting in boxes beside it.
“The only thing this place doesn’t have is a chem station…” MacCready says, standing at the threshold as he looks around.
“Not something I work on in here.” Dude says, dumping some things out of his pockets and bag. “Is there something I can assist you with, Mr. MacCready?”
“...No, I was just checking the area. I”ll finish doing a walk of the perimeter.”
“Feel free to check with Princess afterwards, she’ll pay you for your time.” 

MacCready doesn’t linger, strolling around the edge of the property as he said he would. Most of the original barrier was still intact - and he finds mines are placed just outside of it. Spaced carefully, to optimize coverage and provide just enough space in some cases to allow ‘safe’ passage.
Getting a look at the roof that makes up what used to be the gas-station part of the building, three turrets whir surprisingly quiet.
There’s building materials under the billboard, he stares up at it wondering a moment before noticing the pegs to climb up have been installed recently. 

But with that, he turns back to find Princess dressed in a worn pink dress directing the Mr. Handy to light the stove they had fitted outside, thanking it as he finished the task.
Hancock has taken a perch on a picnic table, lighting a cigarette as he looked out over the distant ruins. “...I haven’t been out this far in a long time.” MacCready heard as he walked up. “Really?”
“Ma’am?
“Hmm! Oh, yes I wanted to check - would you like to stay for the big get-together we’re hosting in a couple days?”
“I-what..?”
“A little party, it’s overdue. My husband and I used to host these sort of things quite a lot - we hadn’t done one…at…” Her words trail off, but she picks the words back up quickly. “Since before Shaun was born - and we’ve accomplished so much since we came back… it just needs celebrating.” 

MacCready shifts uncomfortably in place, “I…sure…but um… Mr. Pendleton said to speak to you about my pay for the last couple days…?”
“Yes, of course.” She says brightly, humming as she disappears back inside. 

Hancock was smirking at him, and he glared back. “You’re staying right?”
“I-...yeah. I said I would. Plus it’s a long walk back to Goodneighbor…and what am I going to do without you there to back me up anyway.”
“Fahrenheit would cover ya. “ He answers confidently, “You know how loyal she is to me.”
MacCready remains skeptical, crossing his arms to consider where he’d go if wasn’t going to stay.
“Why is that? The mercenary asked the ghoul, “Why is what?”
          “Why is Fahrenheit so loyal? You two screwin’ or something?” 

MacCready glances over to watch Hancock’s response, and he catches the irritation that he hides behind a long drag of a cigarette.
“Plenty of people are curious, figure I’m one of the few people with the balls to ask.” 

There is a tense silence that is broken by Princess’s return, bright and cheery like this woman didn’t break a ghouls spine a few hours earlier like a damn stick.
“Here you are, payment - 600 for the past three days.” Princess offers out a bag, swollen with the cash, he’s bewildered for a moment, prompting her to ask. “200 is what my husband and you discussed, correct?”
“Yeah, hell…it was. Thank you Ma’am.”
“You don’t have to call me Ma’am here, MacCready. Just call me Princess.” She smiles, “Oh, and I figure that the rest of our companions aren’t going to be here for another day or two - but I told Codsworth to take you and Hancock to stay up in Sanctuary in the meantime. Bed, place to eat and drink - get to know people. Always welcome to come socialize with Dude or I if you’re feeling like it.”

MacCready nodded, this was almost uncomfortable how hospitable the Pendletons were being. “Alright, alright, alright.” Hancock says, “Follow the Butler?”
“Of course! Right this way Sir!” Codsworth says, popping into view on cue. 

Hancock and MacCready follow Codsworth up into Sanctuary proper, following the curve past several buildings in various stages of repair or remodel to one in particular. “The rooms have been refitted for guests of the Pendletons, no working facilities yet but there is a bathtub and a water pump in the backyard if necessary.” Codsworth explained, “Same with a private cooking pit.”
It wasn’t as renovated as the Red Rocket, mostly just cleaned up and cleared out of anything unnecessary.
A couple comfortable pieces of worn out furniture, fairly certain one of the pieces used to be in an airplane but it didn’t look sharp so MacCready will take it.
“Thanks.” He says, “And Miss Princess says that if you both need anything, I am to help you however I can.”

          He hovers there, waiting for either of them to give instruction before shrugging one of his arms. “But - if there is nothing, I bid you all a good evening.” Dismissing himself shortly after. 

MacCready gives the place the once over, out of habit - two bedrooms, one with three cots and one with four. The windows like other places are fitted with shutters and makeshift curtains- couple storage containers of various sizes placed throughout.
He decides to take the cot in the back corner of the house, in the smaller room - dropping his bag on top of the crate - sliding his rifle under it and making sure his side arm remains ready to go in his holster.
Something catches his eye though inside the small closet space - a box labeled, ‘keep for princess.’ It’s poorly spelled but he’s guessing whoever helped them out getting it ready.
Opening it, MacCready felt his chest get tight.
A teddy bear, as cleaned as it could be of the nuclear fallout, part of a mobile - dirty little rockets carefully wrapped in a faded blanket and a ‘You are S.P.E.C.I.A.L’ book with ‘for Shaun’ written inside.
MacCready holds the book, staring at its grimy edges before looking around the room again. Its wallpaper had mostly faded and peeled with time… but MacCready could still see pieces of it.
Hancock steps in, “...What’s up Mac?”

“ ...I hope they find their kid, ya know? ” MacCready says quietly, and the ghoul nods solemnly.
             “ Me too, Mac, me too.”

Chapter Text

As Princess figured, the travel time did take up a few days, so it allowed her time to prepare, make sure they had supplies for at least… ten - possibly more - people. It made her happy, and by proxy, that made Dude happy .

MacCready and Hancock made themselves useful in different ways, MacCready helped with some hunting with some of the settlers and Hancock was a surprisingly good mediator. Both kept themselves busy while the Pendleton’s got their home ready for company.

The first to arrive was Nick Valentine and Piper.
Followed by Danse and Deacon separately, then Preston, Cait and Dogmeat.
By the weekend, it was a little bit of a hustle and bustle in the settlement - the rest of the settlers decided they would throw their own party.

So the whole area was buzzing… 

It made Princess feel like they were back in the neighborhood, after they’d just moved in - inviting all the neighbors. Before the bombs.

Princess was crouched in front of the stove, staring into the flames for a moment. Codsworth was using a counter they’d fitted beside it to prepare some fresher ingredients. “Miss Princess- the instamash is burning.” Codsworth admonished.

“Oh- shit .” She stands back up, picking the pot up and stirring quickly in hopes that it hasn’t burnt too badly. “Oo- you swore.” MacCready’s voice came around the corner, in a somewhat childish tone. Princess closed her eyes, turning her face to MacCready who was actually grinning at her. “Cap for the tin.” Princess sighs loudly, and whistles for Dogmeat, the dog appears quickly. “Caps.” She commands, and the Dogmeat barks and disappears inside. 

“He’s a smart one.” MacCready chuckles as he returns with a tin, and sure enough she produces a cap for him to put somewhere. “He sure is -  reminds me of a dog we had before the bombs fell.” Princess smiles, kneeling to secure a clean Mr. Jangles bandana to his neck. “There you go, handsome boy.”
She scratches him, standing up and fixes her dress. “Dinner will be ready in an hour, if you wanna round up everyone for us MacCready.”  

“Sure thing, Princess.” He nods, walking away from her to do so. Princess returns to her cooking, as limited as it was - she still wanted too. 

MacCready passes the front to find it was closed, but he can see a light flashing at the crack. Dude hadn’t been present for the prep work today…
Back into Sanctuary, MacCready passes by the bar that rests on the curve - lights are being hung up, multicolored variety and people are already partaking. 

“Hancock!” He calls in, and the Ghouls head pops up from a table, hat askew before he yelps, “Oh fuck!” A chorus of laughter, “Pay up ghoul!” Hancock shoves a head down, laughing as he pulls his hand away to push a bottle into someone’s hand. “Here, here-“ He dances around the group, wrapping his hand up with cloth. “Five finger filet?” MacCready asked, “Yeah- I was winning too- had six rounds going.” Hancock laughs, “What’s up?”

“Rounding up the crew for the Pendleton’s - for the dinner - know where people are?”
The ghoul balances on his tiptoes, “Think the Paladin is poutin’ in the house, Garvey was checkin’ the walls. Think…” He looks back into the bar, “Yeah, there’s the hothead in the corner, looks like Piper has Deacon at the bar- see?”
Sure enough, pointed out - all were easy enough to find with his sharp eye. 

“Where’s the private dick?” MacCready follows up, after not seeing him inside. “Not sure.” Hancock rocks on his heels, “Want me to go find them, and you get the tin-soldier?”
MacCready shrugs, “Yeah, why not.”
Hancock nods, Danse and him already had a rather tense introduction and Deacon had managed to cool things down with Nick’s assistance but like many Brotherhood members - he wasn’t a big fan of ghoulism or of the Detective’s synth nature. 

They separate, MacCready dipping into the Pendleton’s guest house - and Hancock walks further up the block.
Between the Pendletons and the original settlers of Sanctuary the neighborhood was looking much better than many other places Hancock had seen over the years; he’d even wager better than Diamond City.
Wandering further, hands in his pockets - the ghoulish mayor finds the Detective soon enough, having a smoke with an elderly woman he’d been introduced to as ‘Mama Murphy’.
They seemed familiar, with the way she was laughing as something he said. Old History . Hancock clears his throat
“Evening, John.” Nick blows smoke out, “I assume the Pendleton’s are gathering us up?”
“You guessed it.” Hancock tips his hat a little to Mama Murphy, the older woman smiled at him. “Careful now, Mayor - you’ll carry on a legacy with that smile.”
“Hah- as if someone would be interested in my smile.” The ghoul grins, “Let’s get Garvey, MacCready should be getting the rest.”

Nick and Hancock say goodbye to the woman, and wander towards the river; following the wall to one of the many raised posts to hear Preston Garvey admonishing one of the men on duty. “...You’re going to drink, you do it off duty - do you understand? Just because we are so far north doesn’t mean that someone won’t decide too one day.”
A bit of an apologetic groan, “Yes sir.”
“Garvey-”
The man looked over at the pair of them, eyebrows raised before finishing his scolding. “Return to your post, and if I catch you drinking again - you’ll get latrine duty for the next year.”
A grumble is ignored as Preston approaches the two of them. “Evening.”
“Hungry? The dinner is coming up soon.”
Preston slings his laser rifle over his shoulder with a nod. 

The three head back across the bridge, joining Cait, Deacon, Piper, Danse and MacCready to have dinner with the Pendletons. 

In the timeframe that MacCready had taken to find everyone, Princess had finished decorating - lights hanging over the overhang with a large round table set up, mixture of chairs and dinner wear.
Princess was still dressed up, although now she’d done up her hair and instead of walking boots was wearing flats. Maybe even a little makeup…? 

The thing that was noticed by keen eyes were the scars that normally weren’t visible. The dotted insides of her elbows, blending in with her freckles or the strange jagged lines around her knees that the skirt didn’t quite hide.
Dude was wearing slacks and a white button up, nothing too different from what he usually wears anyone would think but his hair was perfect. Nice shoes to boot.
“Hi everyone!” Princess waved, “It’s almost finished, but - we’ve got some snacks on the table, feel free to start.” 

Everyone looking at her could see her excitement, to see her buzzing about like a bee - so it was hard to remain dour as they head in.
Most had already introduced themselves, but more or less a round of it to ensure it - Nick, Piper and Hancock were fairly familiar with each other, Preston and Cait were a pair, while Deacon floated between the two groups, and pressured Danse to engage. But he seemed uncomfortable only giving short answers to questions. MacCready was a little gruff but far more talkative than the Paladin.
Dogmeat went from person to person, nosing a greeting once people had settled at the table - picking at the potato crisps, cut up vegetables and Cotton Candy Bites.
Princess drifts into sight, “Wine, beer- something harder?” She asks the table, takes a list and soon enough returns with everyone's drink requests. 

As she’s pouring wine, Dude settles in an empty seat and he gets whiskey. They’re all surprised to find these cooled and while there isn’t ice, it’s still enjoyable.
It wouldn’t be like any of the parties they threw in the past - no talks about the weather, or the newest Robco or General Atomics product, not Dude’s campaign plans.
It became something more casual, stories shared amongst each other, jokes - bouncing back and forth.
As everyone settled into drinking, snacking in the pauses - Codsworth announced completion of food, Princess stood again, being the proper hostess to help bring it out with their robot companion.
It smelled delicious, cooked radstag and vegetables - along some prewar food.
Princess takes her place by Dude once it was all set at the table, Codsworth was divvying up the servings to everyone.
“Before we start eating, we have an announcement to make.” Princess lifts her cup of wine, “Dude and I wanted to thank you all for coming, it is nice to do something like this and I truly appreciate the visit.”
A couple cups lift in acknowledgement, “You all are working with us, or for us for whatever that reason is so with this dinner let us announce that we are bringing to people under a shared banner.”
Dude stands with her, “Aiming to improve the lives of the people - not just within the confines of Boston, or even the borders of Massachusetts - we will make this a better place to live under the banner of ‘The Commonwealth of Man.’ Together, with your help, this ideal will become reality.”

There is a bit of stunned silence, faces a mixture of expressions - and Hancock was the first to raise his cup again, “I’ll drink to a better tomorrow.” 

That seemed to break the shock from their announcement, agreement and murmured words to toast too. “Alright- dig in.” Princess says as she sits, fixing her skirt like a fine lady is expected to do.  Nick would have to say, having no need to eat or drink - was glad he pulled the synth card by the range of reactions at the table. While some bit into one part, the main courses prepared knowingly by Codsworth - others had started into the sides.  MacCready’s eyes flicked to Princess when he bit into the instamash; fork still in his mouth trying very hard not to yank it back out too quickly while she was looking in his direction. The second she looked away, he made a face, removing the fork and most of what he’d put on there back out onto his plate. 

A couple anxious coughs, Cait was the one to make the first audible disgust which caused a bit of dismay from Princess. 

Nick watches the interaction, and the earnestness of Princess’s apology when Cait says whatever she ate was pretty terrible. In more colorful words. The visible damage to her enthusiasm was noted.

This spurred a lot of looks between the rest, while only a few people were powering through it despite their own discomfort. Nick watched the situation be resolved easily enough by more helpings of the things Codsworth had cooked, smoothing over the drama before it could get more out of hand. 

Codsworth, at Dude’s behest had another round of drinks poured - and when most of the food had been devoured or abandoned - he leaned to Princess. “Why don’t you and Codsworth get dessert? I’m sure everyone will enjoy that.” 

Quite happy to do so, she steps away with the robotic butler and people take their opportunities to wash out their mouths. 

That’s when Nick noticed Dude's plate was empty, leaned back, twisting his glass with a smirk on his face. “There is no way you ate all of that.” Piper says, wiping her face on a provided cloth, sticking out her tongue as if it would help. “You fed it to Dogmeat- didn’t you?” 

Dogmeat whined at the mere thought answering Piper’s question, and Dude laughed. “My wife enjoys the role of house wife, I can say that she’s improved from the early days.” 

“What? Nearly killing you-?” Deacon said between coughs, “Mistaking eggs for hashbrowns was quite common.” Dude answered, and looked even more amused by Danse’s grumble. “She ruined premade food - how does she do that?” 

“With grace. But she was insistent to cook for the people she’s calling friends, and is sensitive to her… lack of talent.” Dude’s smile was full of knives, and Nick watched everyone freeze up. 

“Ey, listen - I’ll still take it over garbage.” Hancock says, he’s still chewing on something that probably shouldn’t take that long to chew. “She was nice, why don’t we all play nice.” A collective complaint that fizzles out the second Princess reappeared with a tray of Fancy Lad Cakes that looked a little “Okay, warmed up and I have some dessert wine to go with it - any takers?”

Most hands shot up, and she disappeared back inside - briefly enough for everyone to have panic appear and disappear on their faces like a light switch. Dude is the first to grab one, and without flinching pops it into his mouth. Some took it as a challenge, some more or less lied about their fullness - Deacon spun some bullshit about being allergic to them. Nick stands up at this point, “I’m going to go smoke over there, to be polite.” 

There’s no argument from Princess, stepping to the edge of the property. Piper and Hancock join him a few minutes after. “Yikes.” She says, “When the cigarette tastes better you know it’s bad.” Hancock chuckles, “I honestly don’t think it was that bad, a little over salted. And burned . I think ya’ll spoiled.”

Piper dragged the cigarette hard, and Nick hummed. “I think it’s nice of them…”

“You’re only saying that cause you didn’t have to eat it.” Piper hissed low, and he laughed a little loud. “But what do both think of this ‘Commonwealth of Man’ stuff? You think they’re serious?” 

“Dead serious.” Hancock says, and Nick nods in agreement, “Bet you everyone else would agree.” The Reporter pulls out a notepad, scribbling something and stuffs it back in pocket. “Do you think they invited us here to - I dunno - see what they’ve done so far?”

“Princess, no. Dude - very likely. He’s a man of results.” Nick says, looking over at the table where Dude was sitting, verbally sparring with Deacon. Princess had settled standing between Cait and MacCready, speaking with Danse and Preston with a bright smile. 

Cait stood up, and this surprised the trio more to find it was Dude who followed after her within a few moments. “Probably going to have a talk to her about her chems.” Hancock says, taking a drag himself, and Piper looks at him with a worried expression. “Had that little chat with me already. Seemed more pleased that I was with him than arguing.” 

“I-what the hell does that mean? He wants you to stop using?” Piper pressed and he shakes his head, “I would’ve told him to take a hike, nobody will stop me from having a good time ya’feel.” 

Ain’t that the truth. “Than what did he want?” 

“Make sure Princess doesn’t get back into it when we’re hanging out.” He says, looking over at the tall woman who is animatedly discussing something now without a care in the world. She looked in her element. Happy . Nick could imagine  her standing in a well furnished home, in a nicer dress doing this with just as bright of a smile without too much issue. Piper snips, “It’s not your fault if she uses, why the hell would he make it your problem?” 

“Believe or not Piper, I don’t really care if people do or don’t do chems, it’s hell of a time when everyone’s doing it - but she wasn’t on the fun stuff - she was on the rough stuff. Last thing I wanna be is trapped in a room when she had a bad trip on psychobuff.” Hancock says, Nick watches her face, and nudges the ghoul with his foot. “We shouldn’t be airing out their laundry, especially since she’s done nothing to us.” 

There was a sudden crash of glass that made everyone snap to attention, Cait coming out of the far side of the Red Rocket with a wild look, cussing up a storm before heading to Sanctuary, Dude saunters out after - watching the brawler flee towards the party in the neighborhood. 

He adjusts his collar, and returns to the table as if nothing had happened. Nick sighs, “I’m going to rejoin the party, I’m sure Princess is missing us.” He puts his cigarette out on the road barrier, tucking it into a spot that looked convenient for butts and walking away. 

Hancock only pops over to let them all know he’s going to go join the rager up the road, and Piper sits down and dares a fancy lady cake which she regrets instantly.

The dinner trails off, one by one - others were excusing themselves, for the party or the night - it didn’t seem to bother the Pendleton’s too much, it was fairly late by this point. 

Nick was the last, and when Princess and Codsworth went to round up the dishes - he insisted on doing it instead since they already did the hard work. “Nick, you’re a guest-“

“You’ve already done a lot tonight to host the lot of us, least I can do since I can’t enjoy your yummy food.” Nick argues, Codsworth is flabbergasted, “And I insist I wash them.” 

“Perfectly fine with me.” The detective replies, helping the Mr. Handy carry the dishes to their sink, then picks up the lingering bottles and trash… as he brings the remnants to the workshop at Dude’s direction, he steps in broken glass. 

Narrowing his eyes, he sets down the collection and kneels to examine it. It looked like it had been dropped, and he didn't see an impact on the wall… till his eye found the dried remains at the edge of a table, with more broken glass there. 

Dogmeat huffs, and pushes himself under the Detective’s arm - “Careful boy, I don’t want you to scrape up your paws.” He gives the dog a good scratch before collecting those pieces up and adding it to the pile. 

“Hope Cait didn’t say anything she’d regret.” He says to the dog, but finds himself answered by Dude. “She probably doesn’t think she will.” Nick looks over his shoulder at the smaller man, “I assume you had a discussion with her about her habits.”

“You’d assume correctly.”

“Didn’t like that too much, by the way she left.” 

“I reminded her she is on contract with my wife, and that if her own habit affected my wife, there are consequences.” 

Nick didn’t have to see it to know Cait is a hot head, disliking authority to boot - like pouring absinthe onto a fire. The debris from whatever ‘discussion’ they had was more definitely her reply. He just wonders exactly what Dude did to make her back off the way she did… “Hancock mentioned the same sort of talk with him.” 

“The results were much more favorable.” Dude starts sorting from the bottles, things that were reusable and what wasn’t. “Hancock is much more clever than he acts.” 

Nick nods, standing up. “I guess I’ll go turn in myself. Unless there’s anything you wanna talk about before I go.” 

Dude thinks about it, a visible emotionless pause before shaking his head. “Nothing comes to mind, have a good evening Mr. Valentine.” 

Nick steps back out of the workshop, watching Dogmeat trot over to Princess who’s sitting down outside with a glass of wine all on her lonesome. 

“Thanks again for inviting me, Princess. Next time I’ll bring Ellie along.” Princess grinned at the prospect, “I look forward to it, let me know if she likes anything special - I’ll see what I can do for the occasion.” So earnest in her words, he appreciates it, but he’ll warn Ellie of the experience. “Heading back to the guest house?”

“Not sure yet, I was going to see what trouble I could find.” Nick waves his goodbye and heads back into Sanctuary. 

He does a quick walk about, mostly to see what everyone else has decided to do. 

Cait, Piper, Hancock and surprisingly Preston had taken to drinking at the bar, in full swing, a group of people were playing an assortment of instruments in one corner. 

A pass by notes a light in the guesthouse, though Nick doesn’t investigate further, walking up the cul de sac, lights were starting to go out at the edges as the parties settled down. In his visit, he’d noted the population of the little settlement was nearly forty people. The ‘nearly’ part was because the newest family that joined had a couple kids, and another on the way. It was nice to see that… even in Diamond City people seemed reluctant to have kids. 

Nick spots MacCready on one of the posts, smoking, rifle at the ready. They hadn’t talked much yet, before the dinner it had been just passing greetings. When Nick stepped up, he caught a glance of some familiar disdain. 

Ah , MacCready wasn’t a fan. Or he wasn’t expecting company. Nick will assume the latter… 

“Whataya want?” MacCready says, taking a long puff before picking up another bottle to drink from. “Just was doing the rounds before I called it, anything interesting out there?” 

MacCready scanned the darkness, he kept the cherry red of his smoke down behind the barrier. “Not sure. Haven’t seen anything but it feels like something out there.” 

Nick takes his own look, the far bank vaguely illuminated by the rising moon's reflection. “Mirelurks?” 

“Maybe, can't sleep now. To on edge.” MacCready grumbles, “…Dinner isn’t sitting too well anyway.” Nick could believe that given the look MacCready had for about half of it. “What do you think of what the Pendletons said?”

He shrugs, “Look, they pay me to watch their backs and their shit - I don’t really care what they’re doing otherwise.” 

Nick didn’t really believe that, “Alright, want to swap off - I got some good night eyes.” MacCready scowls a little, “You ever handle anything bigger than that revolver.” 

“I’ve been around the block a time or two. Won’t say I’m the best shot with one of these though.” Nick takes it from him, and peers through the scoop along the shoreline. “Heard about you from rumors around GoodNeighbor - wasn’t sure what you were all about, didn’t think your face would be busted up.”

“Like I said, around the block or two.” Plenty of gunshots, baseball bats and other assorted sundry of blows that have slowly degraded his face overtime. His chest wasn’t much better, one hand exposed wire and metal as a constant reminder of how fragile he actually was. “Where’d you feel like there was something?” 

“Far bank, towards the lakeside.” MacCready took a swig, “You really don’t drink or eat?” He asks, and Nick smirks. “If I don’t want too.” 

“You bastard.” He hisses, “Should’ve known better - watched her burn the mash - but somehow the burn was the least of its problems.” Nick chuckles, “Really?”

“Oversalted- and I think she tried to cook brahmin milk into it.” MacCready made a face, like a kid being forced to eat his greens. “Well, now we know that Codsworth is the real magic in the kitchen. Or if we want to avoid that - we convince her to potluck so that she only brings one dish.” 

“What’s a potluck?” MacCready asked and Nick summed it up to the best of his strange prewar knowledge. It felt a little odd, of things he could remember from a life that wasn’t his - things like this still popped up to surprise him. “…Weird.” MacCready says, holding his hand out to get his rifle back as Nick stood back up again. “Not sure if it’s wildlife or something else… but it’s pretty still right now.” 

MacCready sighs, standing up. “Guess I’ll call it.”

Nick and him mosey their way back to the guesthouse - the party had moved over by the sounds of it, when they entered - in the main space, there’s a crowd of bottles to go with the crowd of people. They’d formed a circle, Danse looked cornered, grouchily sitting on his own arm chair - flanked by Deacon and Hancock, who seemed quite entertained to torment the Brotherhood Knight. 

When MacCready and Nick enter, Piper jumps up. “Oh hell ya! A referee! Nick come on-“

“For what…”