AN: This is my first fallout fic. so I hope not to disappoint. I want this fic. to be not just a retelling of the game, but to also be physiological analyses of the players life and an in-depth look into the human condition. A major goal I have in this is to not have a marysue, but a character that feels flawed in and with her life, that slowly comes to find a balance. I ask for all the help you readers are willing to give me as I need to know what you are thinking to help me reach out to you in this fic.

Please tell me…(and not just limited to…)

Would you like the Lone Wanderer to remain nameless or not?

Do you want certain events to go one way or the other? Completely different?

While I plan this to be a FLW/ Dogmeat/ Charon fic. Do you want FLW/ Charon to remain as close friends or something more?

(BTW I can't spell worth crap…and I don't have my beta right now so…sorry)

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We are born in the vault, we die in the vault.

What a horrendously hopeless sentence that was.

A mantra spewed forth to show and devote alliance and coalition to your fellow man. A unanimous way of proclaiming aloud that, "we were here and we are happy to stay that way forever and ever…" This is the story adults serenaded their children to sleep with at night, the sweet opiate of the people to keep the peace, and the forefront line on any 'good' Overseers' tongue. It was a phrase that could be made as sharp as any whip, and twice as effective.

We are born in the vault, we die in the vault.

What a load of bullshit.

How on earth could this be the point of it?

Wasn't the whole point of the damn vaults supposed to be about having hope?

Wasn't it supposed to be about believing that yes, we may have been born in the vault, but our goal is to one day leave, and to go out to build us that "better tomorrow"?

If not…then what was the point?

Was life worth living if you merely existed and didn't…live?

This is what set her apart from the others. Why, no matter where she went, it always felt like she was just watching everything and everyone through a sheet of glass. It was not the fact that she was the daughter of the doctor (though she was in fact teased for this, even if it was, from her humble opinion, a very noble job). Nor was it because of her outstanding social status (a thing that seemed nonexistent at best). No, it was something different.

It was more of an overall difference. It made kids shy away and most adults uncomfortable around her. And it was very annoying. But it did give her room to lean back a little. She didn't need to be like the rest who were too caught up in their jobs, or social circles.

She could she the joke that others couldn't see or just simply ignored.

The endless fight to repair the power systems, the hopeless conservation of remaining food and water, even the slowly disappearing number of people clogging up the hallways and rooms, none of this was hidden to her. What she didn't understand, were people who sat back and wasted away simply nodding and accepting their fate. Why couldn't they see they were being slowly mollycoddled to literal death by the overseer?

YES, life was good now…but couldn't they see that it wasn't going to last? Didn't the war teach them anything? Ignoring the problem just doesn't make it go away… you have to fight for it…tooth, nail, fang, or claw. If you want something bad enough…you have to face it…not just…run away…

Why couldn't they see that?

And God was it funny.

And unbearably heart wrenchingly sad.

It was the catalyst that separated her and the rest of her world, an unspoken fearful natural separation.

And though she didn't know it yet, it was the first sign of a hidden strength that would become one of her most prized possessions in her fight and resolve to stay alive.