Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter One: Welcome to the Fallout 

“The Three Sisters” is an Indigenous American agricultural technique of companion planting corn, beans, and squash together in the same soil. This mutually beneficial technique gives the beans a place to vine upward as they enrich the soil with nitrogen, and the large squash leaves keep the soil moist and shade out weeds.

Alone, they can be a fairly prolific crop. However, when grown together, they thrive together and provide a complete array of nutritionally dense food in a much smaller plot of land.” 

Present day 2287

“Did you have other family back in the pre-war time? Parents? Siblings?” Nick asked Nora as they rested in front of a warm fire, just the two of them, as he flipped the most recently recovered Eddie Winters holotap through his fingers. She sighed, taking a moment to breathe deeply and collect her thoughts before responding. It was chilly, so they made the rare exception to start a fire as they camped for the evening. Nora, utterly exhausted, only agreed to it knowing that Nick would not have to sleep and would not be put out by having to keep watch afterwards.

“Yeah, I had two sisters, Lena and Mary Elizabeth. We grew up in a small town not that far from Jackson, MS. Lena was two years younger than me, and we couldn’t have been more different if we had tried. I’m pretty sure that I always wanted to be a lawyer, and she was pretty much doomed to be both my first and most repeated client. I think she was kicked out of five different schools for fighting. She always was the type of person who stood up to bullies, in the language they spoke best,” she said as she took a drink from her canteen. 

“They expelled her for standing up to bullies?” Nick asked her, confused at this revelation. 

“Schools had a zero tolerance for fighting, and she was a little too prolific at it. I think she scared the administration with how badly she’d beat the brakes off these guys. Man, she would have kicked serious ass out here,” she said with a smirk, “She’s also the only reason I met Nate. She was drafted to fight on the frontlines in Alaska right before her 20th birthday. It was a true testament to how badly they needed people that they willingly drafted her, what with her record and all that.”

“It was probably by design. Get someone who can dish as much as they can take and set them loose out there,” Nick said, and Nora just shrugged in agreement. 

“Honestly? That sounds about right. She and Nate were stationed together in the same unit and were thick as thieves from the day they met. They had such a beautiful friendship,” she said with a fond smile, “Well, up until she found out we were dating. I thought she was going to throw him into the Mississippi River.” 

Nick kept listening to Nora, drinking in every word as they spilled out of her like a bursting dam, “Mary Elizabeth was either a failed attempt to save my folks marriage or maybe an accident. I’m not entirely sure, but she was born ten years after Lena. It didn’t help, as mom still ran out on us before my sister was even out of diapers. She tried to reach out after she heard I got into law school, but I never replied to her letter. Dad tried his best to raise us, but he was a hugely depressed drunk that ended up drinking himself into liver failure. 

Mary Elizabeth was only 14 when my dad died, and we had no other family that could step in as her guardian. I was only a few years into law school, living here in Boston, and was recently engaged to Nate who was still serving in Alaska. I made plans to drop out and come home, but my Lena had just gotten home from serving in Alaska with an honorable discharge six months beforehand. She offered to step up and take care of her so I could stay in school. I won’t get into the specifics of what happened to her out there, because I really am not clear on what happened myself. However, she was now riddled with PTSD, and I’m pretty confident that she was hiding a drinking problem of her own. Slapping her with a teenager, that was admittedly quite challenging, was not my finest or least selfish decision.” 

“Why was she considered challenging?” Nick asked. Nora sighed again before continuing. 

“Mary Elizabeth sometimes struggled with separating reality from these delusions, I guess you could call them that. She would decide something was real, and would spiral if she wasn’t believed. I have no idea why this happened, which it happened very rarely, only once a year or so. Usually around the time of year that Mom left us. We tried therapy, medications, and neurologists, but they just said it was some “unspecificed mood disorder” and pushed her through the system. But she was gentle, creative, and she was an absolute wizard at computers. You’d have liked them both I think.” 

“If they are anything like you, I know I would have. I’m also sure neither of them would have any ill will for you doing what is best for your education and your future. Seemed like a pretty logical decision to me,” Nick told her, reassuringly. “And I’m sure the responsibility might have actually done your sister some good after coming back from serving. Were they both still in the Gulf when… well. Everything happened?” 

“I think they were both back in Mississippi when the bombs started dropping. Mary Elizabeth was for sure, and Lena was on her way there at least. After Mary Elizabeth turned 18 and she started taking classes at the local university, we both convinced Lena to head out to LA, where a few of her old war buddies were living for a little while. She would bounce back and forth, sometimes for months at a time, and I think they both liked it that way.  Lena had been back in LA for only a couple of weeks when Mary Elizabeth called us both in a panic, said something bad was going to happen. She said we both needed to come home. I had Nate and a newborn, so once again, Lena dropped everything and flew across the country in the dead of night to take care of her.  The bombs dropped the next morning, a couple of hours after her flight landed in New Orleans. I don’t know how Mary Elizabeth knew what was happening. I would have thought Lena would have been the one with the inside knowledge. So, yeah, because Lena left LA the night before, I’m sure there is a shot they both survived,” Nora said, the last bit as an afterthought. Nick gave a low whistle at the timing of it all. 

“That's certainly quite a coincidence. An incredibly lucky one for Lena,” Nick said in agreement. 

“I’m not sure what all happened down there as far as nuclear detonation went. I hope they were well away from the fallout, and that by some miracle they lived long, happy lives,” Nora said, her voice clearly guilt-laden. 

“If my memory serves, the closest were Mobile, New Orleans, and Memphis. Atlanta took the biggest beating by far. So, if they stuck close to Jackson, they were probably safely out of that particular harm’s way. Maybe they did. We can always hope they did,” Nick told her. 

Happy lives were debatable, but long lives were certain. 

–

Flashback to Los Angeles, CA.  Friday, October 22, 2077

“Who the fuck has a kid’s birthday party at like 9:30 am?” Lena asked as she stamped a cigarette out on the ashtray next to her. 

“The kind where I only had open availability for that time slot on that day. I have other plans with Janey after, and you do too, I had hoped. Now, are you goin’ to come with us or not?”  replied a slightly annoyed Cooper Howard, “I hate doing these fuckin’ things and I would appreciate the moral support.”

“Cooper, you know as well as I do if I show up with you and Janey to that damn party dressed as anything other than a fuckin’ rodeo clown, we will get plastered on every news station and gossip rag that the Commonwealth has to offer,” Lena told Cooper in frustration, one knee was pulled up tightly to her chest from her seat in the high backed arm hair of his rather modest looking extended stay hotel. She dropped her sprawling Southern accent for her closest approximation of a Californian accent, “The movie star’s newest love interest revealed to be Lena Merryday, problematic ex-employee of the Howards' and disgraced, once promising young soldier, now rumored to be compromised by the Reds. Clearly, this ill-advised affair is the reason that Cooper Howard, beloved star and decorated war hero, fell down the dark path of Communism. More after this Sugar Bombs ad read at the top of the hour.” 

Cooper groaned, the ice in his scotch clinking as he rubbed the glass against his forehead, “Stop being dramatic, you and I both know none of that’s true!” 

“It is not? None of that is true?” she asked him, with a soft smirk and a raised brow. She reached over onto the table next to her and free another cigarette from its pack. Only after she had lit the cigarette and taken a long drag did she speak again, “I feel like it is honestly a pretty fair read of the situation. All the report would be missing is any one of my like eight different mugshots.”

“You have a goddamn Purple Heart, Lena! You are the furthest from a disgrace you can be. And I hired you because you have been one of my closest friends for years, someone I fought on the frontlines with. The only person I could trust around my cars, my animals, and my kid. “Ex-employee,” give me a goddamn break, Lena,”  he said as he went to light a cigarette of his own. 

Not denying the affair, though. She thought to herself. 

The hotel phone ringing startled them so badly that it jolted them right out of their argument. Cooper stood up from his own seat at the foot of his bed and pulled the phone off the cradle, giving her a death stare the entire time. 

“Howard,” he said, barely able to hold back his contempt. His face quickly shifted from anger to confusion as he listened to the call, “Hang on a minute, Mary Elizabeth. Calm down. She’s right here. I’ll hand her the phone.” 

The second Lena heard her sister’s name called, she was on her feet and practically snatched the phone from him. The cord was only a couple of feet long, meaning she couldn’t even stand to her full height directly next to the phone, let alone stand further away from the table the phone was sitting on. She had to stand incredibly close to Cooper, who wasn’t moving, and was now rubbing a comforting hand up and down her upper arm as she listened to her sister sob on the other line. 

Their current frustrations with each other had completely dissolved into nothing as her little sister took priority for both of them. She tried multiple times to interrupt her, to get a word in at all, but Cooper could still hear her sister ranting incoherently on the other line each time she tried.

“Mary Elizabeth Merryday! Enough!” she finally shouted, “Everything is okay, I’m here safe with Cooper. We’re going to pick up Janey in the morning.” 

Cooper looked up at her with a pleased expression as she all but admitted that she would go with them after all. She did not meet his gaze as even more shouting continued, leaving Lena unable to get another word in for several minutes,  “Okay, Okay, look. Fine. Let me call Nora. I’ll have her book me a flight so I can head to the airport right now. No, Nora will probably not come, either. She has a baby, Emmy. Nate also has that speaking engagement tomorrow evening. I absolutely cannot bring Cooper or Janey with me, either. They aren’t allowed to leave LA County right now during the di… No, do not call Nora, too. You’ll disturb Shaun more than you need to. I'll handle… Goddammit!” Lena said as she looked down at the phone in her hand in shock, still digesting what had happened. 

Cooper could hear the slam of Mary Elizabeth hanging up the phone from where he stood, and he tilted his head to the side to try and catch her attention. Virtually the same height, it should have been easy to get her to meet his gaze, but he could not get her to acknowledge him. Despite his hand having traveled up her forearm to weave into her hair at the base of her neck, she still stared into the phone that was now screeching out nothing but dial tone. He reached with his other hand and plucked the phone away and hung it back on the receiver.

“Another one of her dreams?” Cooper asked, and she nodded, dropping to sit on the bed with a sigh. 

“She’s convinced the world is ending first thing in the morning, and she will not rest until everyone is safe at our house,” she said as she went to pick the phone back up so she could start dialing her elder sister’s home number. Cooper gave an eye roll and a groan of annoyance before placing his hand over hers to stop her. She looked at him in confusion before adding, “I’ll pay you back for the long-distance call charges.”

“Don’t worry about that. You aren’t really gonna drop everything to feed into another one of Mary Elizabeth’s delusions, are you? You deserve to have a life, too.” Cooper said as he removed his hand so he could sit beside her, “I just got you back out here after everything that happened, and you’re just gonna leave again?”

“Yeah, if Nora can front me the airfare. Besides, you didn’t just “get me back.” We’ve barely left this hotel room for the entire two weeks I’ve been here thus far,” she said as she nudged him in the ribs with her elbow. Desperate for any kind of levity she could find. He sighed in defeat, but he still put an arm around her shoulder and placed a kiss to her temple. 

“Not nearly long enough. Just tell Nora what’s goin’ on, while I take Roosevelt out for a quick walk. Then, I’ll go pull the car around and take you to the airport myself. I’ll even pay for whatever ticket gets you home the fastest,” he said, squeezing the top of her thigh before he stood up to walk toward the door. 

“Just cool your jets for one second, Hollywood. Let me talk to Nora, and then we can see when the next flight leaves,” she said as she dialed her sister's number, a sly smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, despite her anxiety about the chaos happening around her, “We might actually have time for a halfway decent goodbye this time around.” 

Saturday, October 23, 2077

Lena managed to catch the very last flight out of LAX to New Orleans at 1 am. By the time she had flown to Louisiana, gotten her motorcycle out of long-term parking, and ridden the two and a half hours back to their home, it was already well past sunrise. Mary Elizabeth met her at the door, talking fast and incoherently. 

“We have to leave soon or we will miss our place in the vault,” she told her sister as she started handing her bags of clothing, food supplies, and, most confusingly, a random pouch full of what looked like old bottle caps. She held them in her hand with an exhausted and annoyed expression. 

“Emmy, I just walked in the door. Have you been awake all night?” she asked her as she chucked everything to the floor. She didn’t even bother to unlace her steel-toed boots, as her sister looked more unwell than she had ever seen her. She was always a little on the willowy side, but she still looked noticeably thinner than she was just two weeks ago; her eyes were sunken in and surrounded by incredibly dark purple under-eye circles. Frantically, she paced around the house. She may have had her moments, but she was never this bad. This was starting to resemble full-blown psychosis. 

All three of them shared the same shade of warm brown hair that was gifted to them by their father, but they were all of different textures. Nora’s hair had a soft, effortless wave, while Lena had messy, loose curls that she typically kept pulled back in a sloppy bun so as not to have to deal with them. Mary Elizabeth’s hair was normally straight as a pin, but it was clear to Lena at that moment that it had not been washed or brushed in several days. Her thick rimmed glasses were smugged and dirty. 

Lena went to put an arm around her shoulders to lead her to her bathroom to get her into a shower. To her surprise, her hands were swatted away forcefully by Mary Elizabeth, “You don’t understand, Lena! The world ends in two hours. We have to go to the vault now.” 

“Mary Elizabeth, we don’t have a vault to go to. Besides, we are so far removed from any major target for a warhead. We’re fine here if the world does end,” she said, still confused as Mary Elizabeth groaned as she ripped a flyer off the front of the fridge.  

“They sent out a call for skilled craftsmen and artisans after you went back to LA,” she said as she held the flyer out to her sister. Nora looked down at the advertising for just that. A vault exclusively for creatives and makers combining their forces to keep history from getting lost after the world ends.

Something that looked great in theory, but the Vault logo just brought everything she knew about Vault-Tec bubbling to the surface.  She tried to politely hand the flyer back. 

“If the world ends in two hours, then we don’t have time to apply,” she told her, “we will be okay, Emmy.” 

“No! You still aren’t listening!” Mary Elizabeth practically screamed at her before she took a deep breath and spoke much more calmly. She looked at her with more clarity than she had seen since she walked in the door, “I saw it. It’s happening. I don’t know why I can’t stop seeing it. I can’t explain any of it. And I know you think I’m crazy, but I’m not. I’m scared.” 

“Okay. I believe you,” Lena said, trying to sound convincing while also trying to get her to drop the Vault Tec topic. After everything that happened with the Howards over the last few months, this was not a can of worms she was ready to open. “But we still can’t just wander up to a vault and ask to be let in. This flyer doesn’t even say where it is.” 

“I applied for both of us,” Mary Elizabeth said, reaching for a letter on the counter, “You were accepted for being a metalworker. I think your past work on power armor didn’t hurt, either.  And I put in all the work I have done in textiles. Here is the letter with the address. It’s only 45 minutes away between Jackson and Canton.” 

Lena scrunched her brow as she read the letter. It was true that she had an extensive background in metalwork. It’s how she kept the roof over their head after she was discharged from the military. It was also true that Mary Elizabeth was becoming quite the expert in her own field despite having a few college semesters left before she could graduate. She wanted to be a fiber artist in any capacity, from crochet to basket weaving, but found that if she combined it with her knack for computers, she would have much more lucrative opportunities in manufacturing and design. 

It all seemed fully above board at face value, but Lena knew far too much to want to trust it. She wanted to tell her sister no, but she needed her to shower, eat, and sleep first. Anything other than a yes would have just caused another tailspin.

“Okay, go take a shower and I’ll warm up some oatmeal while I read through the rest of this,” she said, pushing her sister once again toward the bathrooms. This time, she relented and went to wash up.

Mary Elizabeth was still eating her breakfast at the table as Lena went to turn on the TV. As she stared at the screen, her mouth fell agape in horror as a live tracker scrolled across the screen, announcing where all the bombs had dropped so far. New York, gone. Philly, gone. Reported detonations in South Boston. Atlanta had been hit with at least 40 reported detonations, fully obliterating the massively sprawling city. They still could not get an accurate count for the number of reported detonations in LA, but the likelihood of survivors was “almost non-existent from San Diego to Pasadena.” She swallowed back the knot in her throat, unable to control the tremors coursing through her that caused her whole body to shake. 

Nora, Nate, and Shaun were probably gone. She hadn’t even gotten to meet Shaun yet. She was going to fly there after LA. Meet Mary Elizabeth up there, and then they would fly back together. Cooper and Janey. She looked at her watch. They were already neck deep in that stupid early morning kids' birthday party. She didn’t even bother to wipe away the tears streaming down her face. What did it fucking matter now? The world was ending, and if it weren’t for her sister’s desperate insistence to come home, she would have died along with them. 

She jumped, startled by Mary Elizabeth taking her hand and clutching it tightly. Lena didn’t even hear her get up from the table. She pulled her little sister into her arms and held her close, eyes still locked on the news until it went to static. Her hair was still damp from the shower, but Lena didn’t care. It was tuned to the Memphis news station. Which meant it was probably gone, too. 

“Do you believe me now?” Mary Elizabeth whispered. 

“I do. I’m sorry I didn’t listen sooner,” she whispered in reply, refusing to let her go. She could hear sirens and screaming coming from the streets outside their house. She knew it was probably chaos outside, so she just wanted to soak up what little bit of peace was left inside the walls of their home before it infiltrated there, too. 

“You were the only one who cared enough about me to come home. Even if you were just humoring me,” Mary Elizabeth said, “It has always just been you.”

“They care, too. Especially Nora. She would have been here if she hadn’t had Nate and Shaun to worry about. The reports just said South Boston. Their neighborhood is in the northern suburbs, and Nate was a far better soldier than I ever was. He’d die before he ever let anything bad happen to Shaun or Nora,” she said as she pressed her forehead to the top of her sister's head, trying to will herself not to sob uncontrollably.

“You had Cooper and Janey to worry about, and you still showed up,” Mary Elizabeth said, and Lena sighed in defeat.

“That’s different. So, very different. But it doesn’t matter what is going on or why you need me, Emmy. I’ll never not show up,” she told her, and Mary Elizabeth pulled away. 

“We need to go to the vault now,” she said quietly but firmly. Lena gave a massive sigh before nodding her head in agreement.

“Fine, I’m trusting your call on this like I should have from the beginning. Grab what will fit in a backpack. I know you hate it, but we’ll need to take the motorcycle. It will help us maneuver all the chaos that is probably happening out there,” Lena told her. 

Twenty minutes later, they were lane splitting through miles of gridlocked traffic, not bothering to slow down until they were at their destination. As Lena steered her bike down the highway, her sister clinging tightly to her, her mind kept creeping back to the line that Barb had said to Cooper when she thought Lena wasn’t around to hear it.

 “One of the good vaults.” 

God, she hoped that was where she was taking her sister. 

Chapter Text

Chapter Two: Jacktown, MS

Folks in the Commonwealth often joked that roaches would be the only victors of a nuclear war, unless you were from the Deep South. Then it was the roaches and the kudzu. 

Vault 61 resided thirty miles outside of Jackson, MS, and was once hidden under an old grain silo. After two hundred years, the vault was now hidden under the crumpled remains of that old silo, which was brought to its knees, not by time or gravity, but by the thick blanket of kudzu that had overtaken it. Neither a control vault nor an experiment, Vault 61 was intended as nothing more than a time capsule. Something to be forgotten until it was time for the elite members of Vault-Tec to start over. While each vault was outfitted with an E.D.E.N., many believed that having your basic needs met was only the foundation of a long-lasting civilization. 

This vault was dedicated to preserving the parts of history and culture that would have been considered a wasted resource when survival was the only goal. When humanity had survived and was ready to thrive, then Vault 61 could be cracked open to reveal all its perfectly preserved cultural artifacts. For the curators of Vault 61, the true thought experiment was not “What would be lost to a nuclear war?” but “What would be lost to time, when people were not there to preserve it and pass it down?” 

A majority of the vault served as a museum to as much tangible media as its concrete walls could hold. Bursting to the brim with vinyl records, holotapes, and crate after crate of books - everything was meticulously labeled and digitally transcribed into multiple terminals. Dozens of rooms that had been prefabricated for housing had been co-opted for its own exhibit, each with its own temperature-controlled conditions that would be optimal for the preservation of its contents. 

One room was exclusively a seed library with drawer after drawer of every plant one could think of. Not just fruit-bearing seeds, but trees and flowers, too. All sorted by its optimal growing zones. When humanity needed calorie-dense dense nutritious food, why grow lettuce or strawberries, when wheat or a root vegetable used less resources and kept more bellies fuller for longer? This collection would be the key to rebuilding the Earth’s biodiversity long after the nuclear fallout.

Diverse fauna was also considered. Humans had been domesticating animals since the dawn of time, and what a shame it would have been to lose all that work. Cryogenically frozen, in an amount that would have put Noah’s ark to shame, were row after row of all manner of farm stock, multiple breeds of dogs and cats, and even insects. What good is a seed library with no pollinators or any detritivores to turn your soil? 

While this was an Olympic task in and of itself, this wasn’t enough for the management at Vault 61. Nor would it have been a project by Vault-Tec if there had not been anything morally dubious that was taken too far. For they also considered what non-tangible objects would have been lost to time? What can a book not teach us? What skills and trades that could enrich society would have been tossed aside due to humanity’s generational long fight to survive underground?

So, in the farthest, deepest corner of the vault was their most thoughtfully curated exhibit of all - people. Craftsmen, tradesmen, and artists all cryogenically frozen with no identification aside from the particular skill they each possess engraved across their cryo pod. Their faces perfectly composed in the center of a glass window, further cementing their role as a collection and not human beings.

And two hundred years later, this vault had been completely forgotten. Falling victim to the foe it was so desperately trying to usurp: time. 

—-

Date: September 2282, Five Years Before the Sole Survivor Awakens

Mary Elizabeth woke in a way that could only be described as violent. When she regained consciousness, her eyes had yet to adjust to the light, leaving her almost completely blind. The only sound she could decipher was that of her teeth violently chattering. She was in a lump on a cold, hard floor, her palms flat against the steel flooring, trying to take in as much information as she could with the only sense left for her to navigate her surroundings.

Her chest heaved painfully as her body felt like it couldn’t possibly take in enough oxygen. Her last thought was the pod closing in around her, sirens blaring from the moment they were rushed into the vault. She had heard a radio cut through the alarms, bringing more devastating news of yet another city that had been disintegrated. When her older sister figured out what they were doing, it took two tranquilizer darts and six Vault Tec employees to get her into her designated cryo pod.

Mary Elizabeth slammed her hands against the doors closing in around her, desperate for Lena to wake up, to save her like she always did, screaming at them to stop as the pod was already pumping her lungs with gas. Her last thoughts were guilty ones. She had dragged Lena here. And for the first time in her life, Lena wasn’t able to save her. 

“Lena!” She wheezed out, as her vision cleared enough to see a pair of leather boots directly in front of her. They were lazily tied and heavily stained from the red clay the vault was nestled under. 

“I don’t think there is a Lena in here, but I could be mistaken. They didn’t even bother to archive none of our names in any terminal I could get into,” said a low voice. It had that slow, even drawl that came standard in her region. It should have been a comfort to her, but she felt a wave of chills course through her that didn’t feel related to the shards of ice that still clung to her clothing, to her hair, even her eyebrows.

She pushed herself up onto her elbows while she trailed her gaze upwards, taking in every feature of who those boots belonged to. It was an older man, probably in his early 50s, compared to her very early 20s. His wiry red beard was streaked with white, and his skin sallow and sunken in from obvious malnutrition. She looked behind him and saw that the second row of pods that faced her was all undisturbed, aside from the one empty pod with the words “carpenter” transcribed across the bottom. 

She turned and looked back up and met his eyes, despite her own still struggling to focus. Even through the haze, she stared into some of the lightest blue eyes she had ever seen, contrasting heavily against how bloodshot the whites of his eyes were. He knelt down and offered her a hand, which she refused out of fear. She pushed herself into a sitting position and then crawled backwards until she was flush against her still open cryo-pod.  His face could not disguise the fact that this was not going as he had anticipated.

“Darlin’, I ain’t gonna hurt you, now. Just relax. The first few minutes are the worst, and then it’s like ain’t they never put us on ice to begin with,” he told her. She just turned and looked on either side of her, taking in that her pod was also the only one open on her row. 

“What, what is happening? Why are we awake?” She asked as she rubbed her face with her hands, trying desperately to clear the fog behind her eyes. Her voice was hoarse from lack of use, the only evidence she had so far that any time had passed at all. Her vision was still refusing to clear, and it took several moments for her to realize her glasses were missing, “My glasses. I was wearing a pair of glasses. 

“Slow down, your glasses fell off when you started thrashing around. Here, I have them. And we got time to talk about everything later. My name is Stephen. What is your name? I’m sure it’s not “textiles,” right?” He asked with a jovial laugh. He held out his left hand, and she could make out her black-rimmed glasses resting in his palm. She went to snatch them, only for him to retract his hand away. He made a tutting sound at her in disapproval before reaching his hand out, “Easy there now. I asked you your name.” 

She looked up at him again before answering. “I’m sorry. It’s Mary Elizabeth,” she said with a deep breath, shifting her tone from frightened to as polite as she could muster. He let her take the glasses after she reached back, this time more gently. She shoved her glasses back over her nose and felt just the slightest bit of relief that she could see clearly again. Relief that was quickly ripped away from her now that she could make out the almost predatory look on the face of the man above her, “Stephen, please, I have a sister in one of these pods. Is she okay?” 

“Hi there, Mary Elizabeth. It’s so nice to finally get to hear your voice. I don’t know why I imagined you’d have blue eyes. I didn’t realize they’d be such a dark brown. Though they are still mighty beautiful,” he said, ignoring her question. 

“Finally? How long have you been out? How are we the only ones awake?” She asked as her eyes darted around, trying to look for any of the pods that might have her sister’s designation on it. 

“Our pods failed, is all, Mary Elizabeth. Now, come on and let’s get you on your feet. I want to show you our new home,” he said, his tone calm and patient as he held his hand out again for her to take it. Tone aside, her blood ran cold at his use of “our,” so once again she refused. She saw the thickness of the dust on everyone’s pod and how it almost completely obscured their faces from view. She spared a glance up at hers and found the glass was meticulously wiped clean. Stacked on a box across from her pod was a chair. One that would put Stephen eye level with her while she was still in stasis.

“Your pod failed,” she said softly, “but mine didn’t, did it?” 

“I had to pick a smart one, didn’t I?” He muttered to himself. Which caused Mary Elizabeth’s mouth to hang open in fear, “It woke me up a year ago.  A full year of trying to get by with what I could scrounge up in here. Without no 'all clear' from the Vault-Tec, the doors are stuck. I’ve been so lonely. From the moment I saw you, I’d visit you every day. We would talk for hours, and I’ve told you all my deepest secrets. I knew you wouldn’t want me to suffer alone.”

“You woke me up early? No, no. Put me back. Turn it back on,” she said as she tried to pull herself back into the seat of the pod. She had her back to him just long enough for him to grab her by her thick brown hair and hurl her against the opposite wall. 

“Will you stop, dammit? There is no getting back in. The terminal had a note that said in case of pod opening, it was permanent. It then gave me the password to a safe with nothing but a bottle of poison in it. That was the only emergency plan those mealy-mouth fuckers left us with. You may not love me yet, but you will in time. They always learn in time,” he said as he grabbed her wrist and began to drag her down the hall.

Mary Elizabeth was not going to go without a fight, despite how weak she felt. She made herself as much like dead weight as possible, twisting around so she could dig her heels into the grated steel flooring. He had dragged her almost completely down the hall to a set of stairs when her eyes locked on a pod emblazoned with the word “metalsmith.” He dragged her past a pile of tools, and he didn’t see her swipe a hammer from it. She got her feet under her so she could stand, wasting no time in swinging the hammer and connecting it with his nose. He yelled out in pain, releasing her hand so he could try and stop the quickly forming rivulets of blood streaming from each nostril.  She tore after the pod in question, dropping the hammer to the ground so that she could use both hands to fumble with the keypad long enough to deactivate it. She had just heard the hiss of the pod beginning to depressurize as Stephen snatched her by the waist, lifting her up with bloody hands. She could feel hot blood dripping onto the back of her neck as she tried to break free. 

The door to the activated pod swung up, and the form of a much larger woman dropped to the ground. The impact of her body connecting with the steel floor rang so loudly that it echoed down the halls. Mary Elizabeth tried desperately to turn to see if the figure was moving, but wasn’t able to break free from his hold on her. 

“Lena!” She screamed, “Help me! Please! He’s hurting me!”  

There was no response, because as soon as the words left her mouth, he turned a corner and they vanished from sight. Lena’s eyes shot open the second her ears registered the desperate screams of her little sister. She gasped as her lungs filled up with air for the first time in two centuries, but took no extra time to assess what was happening before she dragged herself onto her still numb feet. She gripped onto the bar beside her cryo pod for support as she stood back up, quivering and unsteady. She stumbled in the direction of her sister’s pleas, seeing nothing but an abandoned, bloody claw-foot hammer and a trail of blood. She hobbled after her sister, leaning against various other cryo-pods for support with one hand, her knuckles practically white from how tightly she was gripping the hammer she had plucked off the ground as she went. 

Even still in a tranquilized stupor, it only took two swings of her hammer to kill the man who tried to prey upon her sister. She hit him seven more times just in case.

Date: June 2287, Four Months Before the Sole Survivor Awakens

“Hey, if it ain’t Mayor Merryday, perfect timing. Just finished browning a lovely roux, and I was waiting on this vegetable shipment!” Called the voice of an older woman as Lena ducked through the low doorway of her makeshift kitchen. Lena had a large wooden crate pitched over her shoulder as she leaned over to accept the affectionate kiss on the cheek from their beloved cook. 

“Is that what smells so beautiful, Mama Price?” Lena asked with a laugh before she set the crate down in its usual spot, before she picked up yesterday’s empty produce crates. 

“Yes, ma’am. Should be ready in… oh, ten hours or so,” she said with a laugh as she dried her hands off on her apron, “but I did pack a fresh bag of fry bread for you and that sister of yours. Lord knows she hasn’t popped outta y’all’s house  in days!”

“Well, we’ve got a large shipment of textiles that she’s been working on that’s headed all the way to California in two days,” Lena said, coming to her sister's defense, “The caps from that alone should be enough to get you your own generator finally.” 

“Thank God for that,” Mama Price said as she placed a paper bag, already soaked with hot oil, into Lena’s hand.

“Technically, you also should be thanking Mary Elizabeth, just as I’m thanking both you and the Lord for these fry breads,” she said with a crooked grin as she turned to leave. She didn’t turn around as she pushed the door open with her foot, taking a moment to shout, “I’ll be back this evening for that gumbo!”

After Lena and Mary Elizabeth had taken a moment to let the reality of what had happened to them sink in, they found themselves standing outside the locked overseer’s office. Mary Elizabeth took one look at the terminal by the door and had it swinging open almost immediately. The office was just part of the prefab design, as there was no actual overseer, but it’s where all the data on the inventory and plans for the vaults' activation were actually kept.

Stephen had spent a year in the vault, and because he was unable to get into the overseer's office, almost every resource had been gatekept from him, aside from several crates of supplies set aside for when the all clear was given and everyone was set to awaken. 

If the dating system on the terminal was to be believed, then it would have indicated that they had been left in those dusty pods for over 200 years. It took them a few days to finally get the courage to crack open the vault doors and see where the world was, and how long it had been. They found their way to an old trade spot after a day of walking, and traded a pack full of vault goods for a radio and information. 

After that came the ethical debate on whether or not they should wake up everyone or not. The debate lasted for over a week. Lena was in favor of waking them up, while Mary Elizabeth was in favor of leaving them be for now, as Vault-Tec hadn’t given the all-clear yet. They had also made another incredibly lucky discovery. One of Lena’s squadmates, who had fought alongside her, Nate, and Cooper, was also in the vaults. 

His name was Jacoby. A talented woodworker in his own right, he had moved to the Jackson area after his tour ended. He said that after visiting Lena, he fell in love with the slow-paced life of the Deep South, and Lena never questioned it. He was a kind, soft-hearted man, and an excellent drinking buddy. She didn’t know he had applied, nor did she see him when they were processed at intake. 

Mary Elizabeth agreed to at least let Lena awaken Jacoby, who, after having time to digest what had happened, took Lena’s side in their debate to wake everyone up. He was struggling to adjust to what had happened, but the three of them were each grateful for yet another friendly face in a world that had continued moving as they were left behind. 

That night, as they all three slept on the cots they had built in the overseer’s quarters, Mary Elizabeth had her first dream in 200 years. Of a thriving settlement full of the vault inhabitants, all thanks to her sister’s leadership.  When she told Lena this, for the first time, she believed her without question. Well, mostly without question. She had a hard time coming to terms with anyone determining her to be worthy of leadership, let alone a whole settlement of skilled laborers and artisans. However, this dream finally convinced Mary Elizabeth to flip the switch, and all 76 other inhabitants were woken from cryo storage. 

They took things slowly, not wanting to flaunt their resources for fear of drawing in raiders, but soon they had a functioning trade depot that was beginning to spill out of the vault. Traders were intermingling with the Vault dwellers. Children were being born. Artisans took on apprentices. They were welcoming to outsiders, but unrelenting in keeping their people safe. If you stole, harmed, or threatened another, you were no longer welcome in the safety of their home.

A home they lovingly named Jacktown. 

After they had the land settled, they started to awaken the animals. And not all of it at once, and some of it not at all. There was simply too much radiation in the air for insects like bees to survive, so they stayed on ice. Animals that would not have thrived due to new predators or a lack of their main food source were also left for another day. However, for the first time in centuries, the Wasteland saw uniradiated cows, horses, and even turkeys. The livestock was their biggest risk and something that drew the most attention to their settlement. But they defended it well, and after a couple of years, were able to start trading fresh dairy, eggs, and even meat. 

And just as Mary Elizabeth predicted, Lena became their begrudging mayor. Mary Elizabeth would remind her daily that it was her hatred for leadership that made her so good at it. And so she continued onward, running her blacksmith shop with her three apprentices taking on a bulk of her workload so that she could manage the town’s exploding population from 79 to over 500.

Fry bread still in hand, Lena stepped off to the first cabin built next to the vault. Every inch surrounding the makeshift house was overgrown with vegetation. Still fighting back the never-ending onslaught of kudzu, Lena had meticulously planted sunflowers, potatoes, tomatoes, and even tobacco on their little square of land. Inside, she had a small part of the cabin for her bed, but the rest of it was covered in bolts of fabric, bags of raw cotton, looms, and all manner of equipment that made no sense to Lena as Mary Elizabeth single-handedly became one of the biggest producers of linen, wool, and cotton fabrics since the bombs fell. 

“Emmy, Mama Price sent you some food,” she said as she called out to her sister. It was unusually quiet in the house, “Said you need to get the fuck out of the house more. So, you’re coming with me to get gumbo tonight.”

There was no answer. Once again, this was unusual. She called out again, “Em? You in here?”

“Yeah. Backroom. We need to talk,” she shouted back, and Lena grew nervous at her tone. She didn’t reply, just walked to the back of the house where Mary Elizabeth sat at her desk. It was usually covered in inventory slips and order forms, but this time it was covered in various maps and atlases. All of them opened to New England. 

“What… what’s going on, kiddo?” Lena asked as Mary Elizabeth looked up at her. She recognized that face, and she didn’t like it. 

“We need to go to Boston. Nora is alive. I know it,” she said with conviction. Lena believed her, but that didn’t stop the questions from bubbling up within her. 

“How? It’s been… How?” she stuttered out.

“Same way we were. She’s on ice,” Mary Elizabeth replied. 

“Wait. Is on ice. She’s not awake yet? What about Nate and Shaun?” Lena asked as Mary Elizabeth went back to her maps. She shook her head, causing her long brown hair to sway back and forth as it dragged across the desk. 

“Not yet, but if we leave within the next couple of weeks or so, she should be awake by the time we get there. I'm not sure about Nate or Shaun, didn't see them. Just Nora. She was talking to this older man with gray hair and a beard while standing on the roof of this old building that overlooked Boston. She looked strong, powerful. Like you,” she added, looking up at her, “So, are you going to take me to Boston to find our sister, or am I going to have to go by myself, where I will most definitely make it about 10 miles before I get eaten by a mole rat.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Three: Look What the One-Headed Brahmin Dragged In

2070: Seven Years Before the Bombs Fall

“I’ve got life signs out here,” Nate said as he, Charlie, and Cooper scanned the wilderness while in full power armor. It was dark, and the wind was so bitter that he could feel it through his suit. The snowfall made visibility next to nothing. 

Cooper moved toward Nate, and his rifle’s spotlight caught a glint of silver. He focused on it, and a person hiding behind a tree came into view. Nate shone his light on them, too, and the person in question stepped further into the light, hands up in surrender, revealing frost-bitten fingers. It was a woman, filthy, underdressed for the frigid conditions, and was barely standing on her own two feet. Nate’s attention landed on the silver, US Army-issued dog tags dangling from her neck, while Cooper's eyes locked with hers, revealing a familiar set of piercing dark brown eyes. He pulled back his face plate as soon as he recognized her.

“Holy shit, it’s Merryday,” he swore, as she choked out a sob of relief at the sight of his familiar face. She motioned behind her as four more equally filthy and emaciated people appeared behind her as she stumbled to Cooper. She collapsed at his feet before she could reach him. He stepped out of his armor to more easily assess her condition. She had gotten her fellow captives to safety and officially had nothing left in her to keep going.

2287: Two Months After The Sole Survivor Awakens

Hancock, Deacon, and MacCready were an unlikely match-up, but they were all available when Nora needed them to scope out a location on the southeast end of Boston for potential information on the Institute. It yielded a handful of half-corrupted holotapes and not much else. So, they found themselves walking back when they found a bizarre-looking caravan at a stop just as they re-entered the more densely populated portion of the city on their way back up to Sanctuary. 

“Holy Shit! Are those one-headed brahmin?” MacCready said out loud as the head of one of the caravanners shot up and locked eyes with them. Her hand flew to her sidearm as all three men jumped back at her intense reaction. Hancock and MacCready reached for their own firearms while Deacon raised his hands up in surrender. 

“Cows. They’re called cows,” said the cavanner they had startled, as she sized them up. She was tall, broad-shouldered, and had two large machetes strapped to her back. Her dark eyes flitted between the three of them, clearly threat assessing each of them. There were only three caravanners total, one was another man, also extremely tall, but he remained still so as to not escalate the situation further. The third was another woman perched at the helm of a massive cart the cows were pulling behind them. Not only did she have the reins draped across her lap, but she also had a very large sniper rifle.

They were completely unaware that they had run right into Lena, Mary Elizabeth, and Jacoby less than an hour after they had made it to Boston, nor did they know they were crossing paths with some of Nora’s greatest allies. 

“Easy now,” said Deacon, “As cool as it is to see animals that 1000% are supposed to be extinct, we are just passing through.”

“I figured, otherwise I would have shot all three of you about 400 yards ago,” said Mary Elizabeth from her position above them all. She seemed very unbothered by the three of them, “Hands off your firearms, move along, and we will do the same.” 

Hancock and MacCready complied, relaxing when Lena did the same. The three caravanners went back to their hushed discussion when yet another voice cut through the air, “The fuck kind of Brahmin are those?”

All six of them looked over at the road ahead of them and found themselves eye to eye with Raiders that already had their guns pointed at them. They had been so distracted by each other that they were able to successfully get the jump on both parties. Deacon’s hands once again shot up in surrender, and to the surprise of him, Hancock and MacCready, so did Lena’s. However, she walked right up to them, hands still in the air, and let two raiders surround her on either side. The raider to her left pressed a shotgun to her temple while the one on her right pointed a knife at her ribs. Hancock reached for his shotgun but did not draw it, afraid any movement would get her head blown off her shoulders. 

“They’re just cows. Well, I guess, oxen technically, but if you’re nice and put the weapons down, I’ll let you pet ‘em” she said in a thick Southern drawl, clearly unthreatened by them despite her current position. The raiders looked at her like she had two heads. 

“If we’re nice? Lady. We’re just going to take the damn things after I shoot you with the gun I have pointed at your fucking head,” said the leader of the group. The woman laughed. 

“No, you won’t,” she said with a condescending chuckle.

“And why is that, you dumb bitch?” he yelled back. He was beginning to find her lack of fear unsettling.

“Because we just walked all the way here from Jacktown, MS, through the Appalachian mountains, and then some, dealing with all manner of fuckery to get to Boston while traveling with precious, pre-war livestock. Do you think we would have made it this far only to be taken out by some dumb chuckle fuck raiders the moment we finally get to our destination?” she asked. Mary Elizabeth, still sitting high up on the cart, gave an audible groan. 

“Come on, Lena. We need to get a move on,” said the woman in frustration, “Quit playing around.”

“She’s right, Lena. Toying with your food,” Jacoby told her with a smug grin shining through his thick salt and pepper beard. The raiders only seemed to get even angrier by this lack of fear from any of them, despite having the clear advantage. 

“Fine. Y’all are no fun,” Lena said before turning her attention to the raiders wrapped around her, “All right, buds, do me a favor, and look at the birdie.” 

She shook the wrist of her right hand, causing both eyes of the raiders to look up at it. With their attention redirected, she leaned her head back, shot her left hand up, and snatched the barrel of the shotgun up into the air, so when the raider pulled the trigger, it fired at nothing. Her left foot shot out and rammed into the knee of the knife-wielding raider so hard that it dislocated it, bending in the wrong direction entirely. He began to crumple to the ground with a scream, but not before Lena wrestled the knife out of his hand, and she could swipe it across the throat of the raider holding the shotgun. Unbothered by the spray of blood shooting across her face and neck, she pulled the knife back and stabbed its owner three times in the stomach before either of them could hit the ground. The raider was still holding onto the shotgun, despite his other hand trying to stop the bleeding at his throat. She jerked her arm up and pried it loose with little struggle. 

Two shots rang out, as two more raiders that had attempted to remain obscured in the rubble fell to direct hits. One shot down by the very annoyed Mary Elizabeth, the second from Jacoby, who pulled his firearm from under his flannel shirt, having taken next to no time to line up his shot beforehand. 

A fifth raider made a run for Lena, swinging a baseball bat covered in razor blades at her,  and she looked at the shotgun and knife she was holding in each hand. Choosing to save the ammunition, she hurled the knife with a grunt, lodging it in the neck of the raider who crumpled to the ground with a wet gargle. 

“You happy now?” said Lena as she spun around to see her sister standing at the top of the cart, looking no less aggravated at her sister's showboating. In the corner of Lena’s eye, she saw the three strangers staring at her, mouths agape.

“I think I’m in love,” whispered Deacon. 

“With which one?” asked MacCready.

Deacon just replied with a “yeah” before Mary Elizabeth hunched over in her sister's direction and took in a deep breath before she started yelling. 

“I am the sniper! How am I supposed to snipe anything when you position your giant fucking head directly in front of them?” she yelled. 

“What would you rather I do? Sit on the concrete with a thumb up my ass while they each just kindly let you take turns shooting them?” she argued back as she cracked open the shotgun to pocket the unused ammo before tossing the rusted gun onto the sidewalk. 

"At least if you did that, I wouldn’t have to keep washing blood out of your clothes all the time,” Mary Elizabeth said as Lena reached the caravan. Mary Elizabeth pulled out a piece of rough-spun cotton and handed it to her so she could wipe the blood off her face. 

“I have never asked you to do that. You know I’m not bothered by a few blood stains,” she said as she took the offered cloth and swiped at her eyes. 

“You should be. You are a mayor, a leader that people look to for guidance, and you should look and act like it! What mayor wanders around covered in blood while treating the Wasteland like it's their own personal fight club?” Mary Elizabeth asked. This drew Hancock’s intrigue even further. She was a witty mayor with a spine made of steel, who could throw down and dirty in a fight. He was also betting that, given their caravan of rare animals, they had to have access to some serious resources. He wanted to broker an alliance immediately. 

“More than you’d think, I’d bet,” said Deacon with a chuckle as he elbowed Hancock. This pulled their attention back to the three of them. 

“Can we help you? I thought we said to move along?” Mary Elizabeth said, turning her ire to them.

“Wait, we should at least ask them if they know anything first. You never know if or when we might run into another friendly face in this shit hole,” Jacoby said in his soothing baritone voice. Lena looked at him and then back to the strangers, weighing his suggestion thoughtfully. 

Mary Elizabeth was skeptical and spoke as though they could not hear her, “What are the odds? Let’s keep pushing North.” 

Her sister ignored her, gambling on her ability to judge a person, and they seemed like odd but honest folk. She stepped forward to clear the gap between them. 

“I’m Lena Merryday, cranky one in the crow's nest is my sister Mary Elizabeth, and that is Jacoby. We’re looking for some… important people to us,” Lena said as she reached into her back pocket. She pulled out an old photograph to offer them. “This is one of them.”

Deacon took the offered photograph, and before looking, he introduced themselves as well, “I’m Deacon, that’s MacCready, this is the Mayor of Good Neighbor, Hancock.”

Lena stared at Hancock with an odd expression for just a beat too long before catching herself and holding a hand out for each of them to shake. Hancock shook her hand last and noted that she seemed unafraid to touch him, so it didn’t seem to be his ghoulification that grabbed her attention. 

And, to be fair, he had to admit that he probably had a lot more to take in about himself than plain-clothed, introduced by name only, Deacon and MacCready. 

Deacon, whispering “holy shit,” drew him out of his thoughts, and he looked down at the photograph. 

Lena and Mary Elizabeth each had their arms wrapped around a third figure who was in a cap and gown, excitedly holding out a diploma. Hancock recognized the woman in the middle of the picture immediately. 

“Holy shit is right, that’s Nora. Why are you looking for her?” he said before looking up at Lena suspiciously. After a second look into her dark brown eyes, the freckles that ran across her nose and cheeks, and the soft brown hair that fell loose from its messy braid and curled around her face, he felt like he already had the answer. Her mouth had dropped open in shock that they did, in fact, recognize her. 

“She’s our sister,” Mary Elizabeth said, pointing at herself and then Lena, also in disbelief that they knew her. The guilt of her wanting to brush these three off so quickly was already sitting heavily on her shoulders. 

“Wait. That would mean you guys are also…” said MacCready as he looked up at Lena in shock. 

Lena was instantly beside herself as she clasped her hands around Deacon’s, both to take back the photo but also to touch him again as if to make sure she wasn’t dreaming before she answered, “Old as fuck. Correct. But you know her? You’ve seen her? She’s alive?” 

“Yeah. We’re actually headed up to see her now.” Said Maccready, “Come with us. She’s gonna lose her mind when she sees you. 

“There is no way we got this lucky right out the gate,” Jacoby said suspiciously, appearing behind Lena and placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Wait. What about Nate and Shaun? Have you seen them, too?” Lena asked. The dour expressions that appeared on all of their faces shattered all optimism she had, “Dammit. What happened?”

“It’s complicated,” Deacon told them, not sure of how to word it. Hancock put a hand on his shoulder to interject.

“Let's get moving. We’ll take you to Nora and fill you in on what we know on the way. It is, unfortunately, both complicated and not great news,” Hancock told them as he motioned them to get started walking again.

—

There was a persistent ringing in Lena’s ears that wouldn’t go away, that had nothing to do with a gun firing off next to her head just a few hours earlier. Hancock, despite being the most oddly dressed and abrasive in tone, articulated the heartbreaking story of Nora’s last few months very tactfully. He was direct in the details of the events, but was very tender in his delivery. 

Nate was dead, and Shaun was missing. Taken by this mysterious boogie-man that had been terrorizing Boston for decades. Lena had heard of synths; there were even a couple living openly and peacefully back in Jacktown. However, this was her first time learning exactly where they came from. Deacon took over a lot of the discussion on the Institute, as he clearly had been a thorn in their side long before Nora woke up. 

Grief was such a strange sensation already, but to process your grief for someone you cared deeply for, then be given the hope they were alive, only to have those hopes crushed once again, was making Lena’s head spin. She had come to terms with Nate’s death, and now that healed wound had been cut open again, all in front of strangers she had just met. The walk had been quiet for a couple of hours, with Jacoby on horseback, scouting a few yards ahead to make sure that their path was traversable for the ox cart. 

"I have a question," Deacon said randomly. Lena turned to look at him, as if giving him silent permission to ask it, "So I just did the math, and if Nora's only been thawed out for two months, but you've been on the road for three, how did you know to come looking for her now?"

Hancock and MacCready turned to look at her, because that was, in fact, a very good question. 

"Mary Elizabeth can see the future," she said simply.  Deacon started to laugh. 

"Yeah, okay. You could have just said that it's none of my business," he said, shaking his head.

Lena didn't reply. Instead, she reached her hand out and pointed to a covered car park, “Let’s stop there for a moment. I need a smoke break.”

“Can’t walk and smoke at the same time?” MacCready joked. 

“Can’t walk and roll at the same time,” she replied as they pulled into their cover. Lena held out a hand to Mary Elizabeth and helped her sister jump down from the top of the cart. It was the first time seeing both of them standing side by side, and it finally connected with Hancock how tall both of them were. 

Nora wasn’t short, by any means, but both sisters probably cleared her by several inches, and then Lena was even taller than Mary Elizabeth. They grew them tall down South, apparently. Lena was dressed very practically in worn denim, a green plaid flannel, with light leather armor strapped over her chest, knees, and thighs. Mary Elizabeth, on the other hand, was almost completely swallowed up in layers of gauzy muslin shifts, wool skirts, and woven belts. All of this was covered by a large, deep olive green cloak with a massive hood that rested far enough back on her head that her face was fully visible. She would have also camouflaged right in with any wasteland settler if she weren’t so clean and pristine. 

Lena walked to the back of the cart and let down the tailgate. She hopped up to sit on it, reaching behind her for an old coffee tin. Cracking open the lid she revealed a stack of small square papers and a massive mound of the long strands of loose tobacco. Hancock felt his mouth water at the sight of it. 

“Holy shit, is that fresh tobacco?” He asked, which piqued MacCready’s nicotine addiction, too. He had never seen loose tobacco before, let alone try it. Mary Elizabeth had perched up next to Lena and was resting her back against her sister's shoulder, her nose already stuck in her sketchbook. After tying up the horse, Jacoby sat on Lena’s other side as she rolled a cigarette, licking the paper with her tongue before folding it closed and handing it to Jacoby. He smiled at her fondly before thanking her. She just affectionately elbowed him away from her while rolling her eyes. He seemed to effortlessly pull the first smile out of her since the news about Nate.

“It is, y’all want one?” She offered it to them as she separated more tobacco and cradled it into the rolling paper.

“Absolutely, what would I owe yah?” Hancock asked as she just dismissed his question with a wave of her hand before sealing the second cigarette and handing it to him.

“Nothing, just have one. I don’t mind sharing with friends of Nora's,” she said as she motioned to Deacon and MacCready. MacCready nodded enthusiastically while Deacon politely declined. 

“Finally, another non-smoker in this group,” Mary Elizabeth said, looking over at deacon gratefully. 

“Oh, no, I partake. I just know if I smoke one of those, I’m going to ruin the stale shit I can get ahold of,” he said apologetically. 

“Sorry, we have vices, my perfect princess,” Lena said sarcastically, “The closest thing you have to vice one is a nasty sweet tooth.”

Mary Elizabeth closed her sketchbook and swatted her sister with it, “I have to compensate for all of yours, you degenerate between all the drinking-“ 

Swat!

“The smoking-“

Swat!

“The chems when you don’t think I’m looking-“ 

Swat!

“The illicit affairs with married movie stars- “

Lena caught Mary Elizabeth’s hand and stopped her from hitting her again. She had been laughing, good-naturedly, the whole time, unbothered by her sisters' venting until she struck a nerve with the last one. 

“Hey, now. It was one movie star. And it was Cooper, so I hardly think that’s fair. He was also getting a divorce. The home was already wrecked before we did anything, and you know that,” she said, but it was clear there was still a bit of guilt with how hard she tried to absolve herself. 

“Don't act like you hadn’t been pining after him since boot camp,” Jacoby said with a smirk, green eyes sparkling down at her. Lena leveled a scathing look at him that seemed to say You’re one to talk. 

Hancock was fascinated by this dynamic between the three of them. He also noticed that the bearded, barrel-chested man was wearing a wedding ring, something the other two were not. MacCready surprised him by saying,” Are you talking about Cooper Howard?” 

All three turned to look at MacCready with the same wide eyes of shock, confirming he was correct, “We only had a few holotapes growing up, but ‘The Man from Deadhorse’ was one of them. Damn, he was good.” 

“That wasn’t his best work, either,” Jacoby said with a fond laugh. 

Lena, who was still rolling a small stockpile of cigarettes, muttered into her tobacco tin, “Yeah, he was an okay actor, he was far better at fuc-“

Swat!

“Don’t be gross, Lena,” Mary Elizabeth said, face twisted into a grimace.

“He would’ve found that funny,” she said dryly, finally placing a cigarette between her lips. Jacoby, as if by habit, lifted his lighter to run an open flame over the end of her cigarette.

The brown quarterhorse tied up beside them started to chuff and pace nervously, causing Lena to slam the lid on her tobacco and slide it back into the cart. MacCready recognized the scraping and clawing sounds first. 

“Ferals!” He shouted as he took up arms. 

“Cover the livestock,” Lena shouted to Jacoby as she had Mary Elizabeth step into her open hand so she could lift her into the cart. She unhooked the two machetes on her back and nervously swung them like propellers at her side while they looked around. Hancock called out to Lena, as a feral charged at her first, but she stayed planted until it got dangerously close, before dodging out of the way and using its inability to course correct efficiently against it. She swung a machete down with such force that it lobbed off both its head and an arm clear through the bone. 

It was chaos. Over two dozen feral ghouls came pouring out of the parking garage they had been sitting across from, but between the five gunmen, they were able to take most of them down before they could reach Lena. But the ones that did were mowed down with a shocking amount of agility from the tall, machete-wielding woman. 

One did by-pass her, though, and went to the next closest combatant - Hancock. A direct shotgun blast was still not enough to deter it. It took him down to the ground and knocked him flat on his back. He had the side of his shotgun wedged into its mouth so it could not bite him, but he was struggling to get it off him. Lena came to his aid and launched a kick so hard at the ghoul that it sent it flying several feet to the side, where MacCready was then able to safely shoot it. 

That was the last one. Everything was quiet. Lena looked down at Hancock, still on his back. She had to step over him when she regained her footing, so she was now standing over him with a foot planted on either side of his hips. 

“You okay?” She asked him, and he nodded as he propped himself up on his elbows.

“Yeah, gonna need some jet after that,” he joked, grinning at her as he readjusted his hat more securely on his head. She smiled back, offering him a hand up, not moving from her position above him. He took it, and she pulled him to his feet as if he weighed nothing. To her, he probably didn’t, he thought as he regained his balance, “Thanks for the assist.”

Adrenaline still coursing through them, they just continued to very stand close together, forgetting to let go of each other’s hands, as she tilted her head up only slightly to meet his gaze. She did not balk or shrink at the sight of him, but instead just observed him with curious fascination.

“No problem. So, I don't have any Jet on me, unfortunately. But I do have a question. Why exactly do you dress like a Revolutionary War reenactor?” She asked before her sister cut through the moment by screaming for Lena in absolute terror. She pulled free of him, sliding past him, placing a hand on his shoulder to ease him out of her way as she moved to run towards the caravan. 

“Shit.”