It had been almost two weeks. Two weeks since Kathleen had been forced out into the world, almost left blind by the sun, almost killed by radscorpions and raiders, all to find her father. The bastard had up and left, and all she wanted was answers. Maybe an apology, but she wasn't going to count her chickens before they hatched. She didn't even know if he was still alive.

She had spent her first week in Megaton. Earned her own home after defusing the bomb in the center of town. The place was nice enough. Nothing like her dorm in the vault, of course, but she wasn't one to complain. She'd helped around Megaton, doing odd jobs and helping Moira with her book. That had been dangerous enough, and she had almost been blown to pieces in Minefield. That was when Kathleen had decided to call it quits with the book and work on finding her father.

Now, she was stuck behind a pile of rubble, Talon Company and Super Mutants having it out only a few yards away. She could hear the mutants bellowing in broken English, and the leader of the small group of mercenaries barking out orders. She was already in a lot of pain, seeing as before the two parties found each other, the Talon Company assholes had been focusing mainly on her. Before she had gotten into cover a bullet had grazed her side, and she was bleeding profusely.

Quickly, Kathleen dropped her backpack beside her and pulled out a stimpack, jabbing the needle into her side, only a little bit below the actual wound. Next came the med-x, and she winced, then let out a long sigh as the area was numbed. Now, she could really focus, and she took the risk of peeking over the rubble. The fight was ending, and she wasn't entirely sure who was winning. It was kind of a tie. There was only one mutant left with a handful of frag grenades, and it sure as hell was making good use of them. After only a couple of minutes, the three Talon Company mercenaries were whittled down to only one. He looked scared shitless, seeing as the rest of his group were dead; arms, legs, torsos, and other assorted viscera spread out around him.

With one last grenade, the merc exploded, and the mutant was distracted for a moment. Kathleen pushed her glasses higher up on her nose, quickly pulled her backpack back on, and ran, ignoring the creature's bellows as she tried to get to the nearest building: the Museum of History. The mutant must have picked up a gun from one of his fallen comrades, since she could hear gunshots, and bullets whizzed past her. One of them buried itself in her leg, and she screamed, her glasses flying off of her face as she hit the ground.

She rolled, gritting her teeth and pushing herself back up off of the ground as fast as she could, screaming as pain ripped through her leg. The mutant charged, reaching and almost wrapping its meaty fingers around her. Gunshots rang out, and the mutant's head exploded. Kathleen screamed as the mutant fell forward, and she felt a hand grab her backpack and pull her away before the mutant could fall on her.

"Well, tourist, you've sure gotten yourself into trouble." Kathleen tilted her head back, smiling at the blurry ghoul standing over her, hand on her hip.

"Yeah, I guess I have. I don't really have much experience with Super Mutants." The ghoul raised what was left of an eyebrow and helped get the girl on her feet. Kathleen groaned, and the ghoul let her use her as a crutch. "Is this the Museum of History?"

"Yep, Underworld's right on inside. Doctor Barrows can help you out." The ghoul helped walk Kathleen up to the large doors, then she felt the girl falling, and quickly pulled her back up. She had passed out, probably from blood loss, seeing as there was an open wound in her thigh and her side. The ghoul hefted the girl over her shoulder, carrying her through the doors.

"Names Willow, by the way. Not like you're conscious enough to even hear me. Damn tourist."

Kathleen woke up on a gurney, an IV in her arm and blanket covering her from the chest down. She froze, her breath catching in her throat as she took in her surroundings the best she could, since everything was blurry, and she wasn't exactly in the best position.

She was in a dimly lit room, the paint on the walls peeling and ripped away. Slowly, quietly, Kathleen slipped out of the gurney, wrapping the sheet around her and pulling the cart that her IV was connected to behind her. She gritted her teeth as pain ripped through her leg. She did her best to push through it, grabbing a syringe on a nearby cart and gripping it tightly in her hand.

"Shouldn't you be resting?" Kathleen spun, glaring at the ghoul standing behind her. He had a bucket in one hand, and was closing the door to another room.

"Don't come any closer." She threatened, raising the syringe like a knife.

"I suggest you sit the hell down; you shouldn't be walking. And put that goddamned syringe down while you're at it. I have enough to deal with without some smoothskin threatening to kill me with a needle." The ghoul rasped, setting the bucket down and glaring at her.

Kathleen was a bit dumbfounded, and she obeyed, setting the syringe back where she found it and situating herself back on the gurney.

"Where am I?"

"The Chop Shop, in Underworld. I'm Doctor Barrows." He said offering his hand. Kathleen shook it, allowing him to unwrap her bandages and check on her wounds.

"They're healing up nicely, but you'll need to stay for the rest of the week before I can clear you."

"How long have I been here already?" Barrows pulled up a chair and sat beside her.

"Well, you've been in and out of consciousness for three days."

"Shit." Kathleen hissed under her breath. James could have gotten halfway across the goddamned Capitol Wasteland in three days.

"Now, if you listen to me and stay in bed, no running around threatening people with syringes, then I might be able to let you go a day or two early." He said, probably noticing her frustration.

Kathleen sighed, frowning at him, then nodded, "Alright, fine. I'll stay. Is there anything I can do to keep myself from dying from boredom? I used to help my dad in the vault's clinic, if that helps."

"Well, I'm sure I can find something for you to do."