Radstorms II

By El Zee Kay

"Seize the moments of happiness, love and be loved! That is the only reality in the world, all else is folly."

LEO TOLSTOY, War and Peace

The night was a canopy of tar, thick and solid, sheeting the crumbling walls we passed, the earth, the sky. There was no moon, no stars tonight. The world was only deep and deeper shadow.

In a post-apocalyptic world, there is no light "pollution," as stargazers used to call the artificial barrier of light mankind raised against the stygian darkness.

The pitch black made something primitive raise its hackles in me, making me wish I had walls and barred doors between me and the gloom.

We passed from ruins following broken roads into paths through the rocky woods. We were so close to home, now, so we just kept going, using my pip-boy as guidance. Dogmeat ranged ahead and then back again, constantly sniffing, looking for danger.

We had tarried too long in Jamaica Plains.

Danse's hand tightened on mine, as if he sensed my unease. He probably did, I thought. He knew me better than anyone ever had. He could read me like a book. My body language, my postures, the tenseness of my muscles, my facial expressions – no matter how minute –and my eyes.

We had gone to check on the progress of the new Commonwealth Science Academy, which used Jamaica Plains as its base, while under construction.

It is amazing what people can do when they put their minds to it. The three bottom floors were already operational. The bottom floor was underground. The walls had three layers – the inner and outer walls were concrete and the inside space was filled with earth. The windows had leaded shutters that could be closed during rad storms, making the Academy radiation free.

Six different laboratories were already assembled with scavenged microscopes, vials, tubes and bottles, Bunsen burners and stores of chemicals, computers and consoles, medical and surgical equipment, and more.

The upstairs floor was for the living quarters of the teachers and a few of the students. There was at least one dormitory planned for the future.

Seven teachers were already starting classes and there were nearly 30 students. Supervisor White from Graygarden and Professor Engill of Vault 81 were teaching botany as well as developing non-irradiated hybrids of the carrots, tatos, corn, razorgrain, bloodweed, hubflowers and silt beans that grew so easily in the Commonwealth. They were now working on improving texture and taste of the foods.

Dr. Brian Virgil was teaching anatomy and physiology and taking up his research where he left off to find a cure or vaccine against the forced evolutionary virus.

Dr. Li was teaching robotic engineering. Rachel was taking medical students. Allison Fillmore taught systems analysis and electrical engineering.

Alana Secord, who had been third in command of the Synth Retention Bureau, was with us. She taught computer and robotic programming. She still had concerns about rogue synths and didn't spare me her concerns whenever she saw me. But even she had to admit, statistically, a synth going rogue and turning violent was nothing compared to the chance of a human becoming or being born a sociopath or psychotic killer. It had only happened twice that we knew of.

That being said, Danse was winning her over, as he did anyone who came to know him. She trusted him and tried to corner him for questions whenever he was near. He tried to be gracious and satisfy her curiosity, but it was never-ending. He always had to politely excuse himself to escape her presence.

In Jamaica Plains, the blacksmiths had had to turn away applicants for apprentices – they could only handle two apiece at a time, they decided. The armorer, Lyle, had taken on two as well. He was complaining good naturedly that they should've made the new Jamaica Plains Black smithy and Armory bigger than they had made it. And it was big. Lyle had asked for another wing to be added.

They had also taken some of the Academy's students as boarders, until the dormitory was built.

Harold's council was going to vote on it at the next month's meeting.

The Brotherhood was not pleased that Dr. Li had chosen to come to us, but they wouldn't hold her against her will. Or blackmail her into staying, like the Elder had done to me.

She had told me the West Coast BOS was not pleased with Arthur Maxson and were now watching his every move, his every decision. According to the BOS grapevine, Li told me they were now pressuring the young elder to marry. Quickly.

I guess I was a scandal that needed to be forgotten and sooner better than later. I had wondered about the prophecy – that the last of the Maxson line would have some kind of legendary powers or some such thing, whatever having a soul forged from eternal steel meant. Twins made for two heirs – neither being the last, unless one was killed. And they were illegitimate in the eyes of the BOS.

So perhaps the West Coast BOS thought a legitimate heir would calm the waters and the rumor mill.

I hoped he did find someone and married. He was still in love with me and whenever we saw each other, it was much too apparent.

The Minutemen had a small fleet of vertibirds now, but Danse and I had decided to walk. We didn't get much time alone, these days.

We had left the twins, Hope and Harmony, and Shaun with Codsworth, Sarah Haylen, Annie Drake, and Dan Clarke with plenty of milk, which I had pumped earlier.

The walk felt like heaven – a mini-vacation. Even in this all-encompassing blackness. The twins were a year and a few months old and had already started toddling around in an unbalanced, precarious way that had everyone waiting to rescue them from every fall. It was amazing to me that they ever learned to walk at all. They were always in someone's arms at The Castle.

Thinking about this, knowing our time alone was so close to an end, I squeezed Danse's hand back. "Think we could take a quick break?" I said, letting a suggestive note slip into my tone.

"A break?" he chuckled. He knew very well what I meant.

"Yes," I said, "A privacy break," I stopped and pulled him towards me.

"You sure you're up to a break?" he murmured before his mouth descended on mine, and a low sound of desire make his throat rumble. If he was a cat, he would be purring.

"Yes, I am," I replied, breathlessly. The slow burning fire that always started when he was near me, had flamed into a mini-inferno by his kiss.

He pulled away long enough to lay down his bedroll a little ways off the path.

He took my hand and pulled me to him. Lowering his soft lips to my mouth, he slowly, gently, peeled off my clothes, never taking his mouth from mine.

I ran my hands down his powerfully muscled torso, and then lower. His body was obviously sure about the need for a break, too.

His fingers made their way down, slowly and teasingly, and found my wetness and he groaned in desire.

"I love it when you want me," he said huskily into my neck, "it makes me crazy with wanting."

We made love at a leisurely pace, in the ebony dark, in the wood and it was perfect. The night seemed no longer frightening or dangerous; it was more a warm, encompassing blanket that protected us from intrusive eyes.

It was over too soon, and I had left Danse's chest wet with my milk. I was too full and needed to get home to the twins. My legs were a little wobbly from the inner quaking still deep inside my center.

When we arrived home, the twins and Shaun were all tucked in and sound asleep. Shaun had his two young dogs curled up on the bed with him. He had named them Geri and Freki, after Odin's wolves. Dogmeat's puppies had quickly been claimed as soon as they were born. After Wihelmina, (that was the name of Dogmeat's 'wife') had weaned them, Shaun got first pick and insisted on keeping two of them. They were fine looking animals, and spoiled rotten. Just like my girls.

I thanked Sarah and Annie, who reported on every wobbly step and every feeding the twins had done while they were in their tender care, and I caught them up on the latest news about the people we had spoken with, while Danse did the same with Dan Clarke who had been in charge of Shaun. I smiled and shook my head. The girls hanging together and the guys on their side of the room.

They left then and here we were again. Alone, with sleeping children. I winked at Danse and asked if he was up for another break.

"Always," he said, coming towards me, smiling a wicked smile.

Then Hope woke up and started crying, which woke up Harmony, who joined in – the sounds she made in no way eponymous with her name and that racket woke up Shaun who staggered out sleepily and walked right into a wall before we could catch him.

"Ouch!" he mumbled, as Danse led him to the bathroom, which he seemingly had needed to visit, then back to his bed while I hurried to the twins' cribs, after letting Geri and Freki out to pee too.

In moments, I was in my new custom made rocking chair, nursing both babies in football holds. I was getting good at this. They were getting too big for this, I thought. But in this world, I wanted them to have the best I could give them – and that was me.

Danse came back out from getting Shaun back to sleep, and sat across from me and just watched us. I smiled at him. At least we had our time in the woods tonight. It was enough. For now.

"You are so very, very beautiful," he said softly. The contentment in his dark brown eyes and in the softness of his mouth warmed me, from the tips of my toes to the top of my head.

Thinking about top of my head, made me think of the roots of my hair, I was still amazed that Curie and I managed to pull off a switcheroo on Dr. Cade taking a saliva sample from the twins a year and two months ago. The twins had been two days old. I had an agreement to keep.

Curie had come with me aboard the Prydwen.

Elder Arthur Maxson had been waiting for me.

There was wonder in his eyes as he looked carefully at the newborn babies and examined them, one after the other.

He had asked how I was and if everyone was well and tried to have conversation. I gave single word answers and refused to encourage him in any way.

He then walked us to sick bay, because, he said, they needed a sample of the newborns' DNA for their database.

I acted as if this was news to me and asked, "Why on earth would you need that?"

"The children are my heirs," Arthur explained, "thus the Brotherhood's concerns; the Brotherhood keeps DNA records for all of us. And they also require proof of my paternity." He shrugged, "I am sorry if this offends your dignity. I know they are mine, after all."

I had shrugged and rolled my eyes, but agreed to it.

He left us in the sick bay, reluctantly.

While I had distracted Dr. Cade with questions about his database, she had snagged two of his swabs which were in a handy dandy jar on his counter and dipped them into her made-up saliva samples which she had concocted from both my and Maxson's DNA. She had been so quick. She had created two identical samples, and had them in tiny vials.

When Cade was getting ready to carefully bag the swabs he had just done, she and I performed our planned distraction. It helped that both girls had decided to wail and cry at being swabbed by Cade.

"Oh! Dr. Cade," I cried out, "I am so dizzy and lightheaded!" I started to topple, babies and all and, horrified, he rushed to save us.

Curie also rushed to our aid, and got in Cade's way, bumping into him, and in the tangle of babies, limbs and swabs, she did the switch. I didn't see it, but as I caught her eye on my way to the floor, she gave one nod.

I lay on the floor, in my swoon. Cade and Curie each held one baby. Cade was on his butt on the floor, cradling Hope in one hand, the two swabs in the other. He looked completely out of sorts.

Arthur Maxson rushed in having heard the tumult.

"Z!" he cried, "Are you alright?" He took in the scene before him, and scooped Hope up from Dr. Cade's arms.

I think Arthur was still in shock over the idea of twins.

He looked very awkward with the baby, as if afraid he would hurt her by holding her wrong. But he studied her carefully too, looking, I assumed for family resemblances. She stopped crying and was trying to focus on his face.

"She looks like my mother," he had decided, and nodded to himself.

Dr. Cade got to his feet and quickly bagged the precious swabs. Arthur held out one hand and I took it and pulled myself up. I sat in one of Cade's chairs and put my head between my knees. I was shaking a little, as part of the act but also to cover my trembling with relief that Curie's switch had been successful.

"Z, what happened?" Arthur had asked, with concern in his voice, "Are you ill?"

"Just probably travelled too soon," I said from my awkward position, "I'm fine, really I just need to sit for a bit, maybe put my feet up."

Cade scooted another chair over for me. I dutifully put my feet up and fanned my face with my hands.

Arthur handed Hope back to me, who was looking for the comfort of my breast. I was glad Haylen had made me a nursing blouse, which made it very easy to feed the babies, and keep my modesty intact. She latched on and instantly melted into a sweet bundle of relaxation. I smiled, looking at her.

I remembered where I was and looked up. Arthur was watching us with a deep hunger in his eyes. I looked back to Hope. It was not my place to comfort that man. Nor did I want to.

He had tried to have Danse killed so that I would come to him. I never would.

And now, back in the present, here I was, surrounded by my loved ones in our Home Outside The Castle Walls. That kind of was its title.

I realized I was deeply happy.

Danse helped me rise from the rocking chair, and we gently and every so carefully laid the twins in their beds. They stayed asleep. I sighed in relief.

Suddenly, the activity and long walk caught up with me and I was completely exhausted. I yawned widely and Danse said, "Time to tuck you in for the night, Z. If the girls wake up, I will bring them to you. You just go to sleep and don't worry about a thing."

"You're so sweet, Danse. I love you," I yawned again. I trudged upstairs, my legs heavy and reluctant to climb another story.

We undressed and put on our nightshirts and crawled into bed. I was asleep in under five minutes, cuddled with my head on Danse's chest and my arm wrapped around him.

Rad Storm I Brewing - Justin Ayo
Ayo studied the map he had been working on. So very incomplete. It was a start though, in this terrible new existence. It had been over two years since the destruction of his life and home.

This filthy, dangerous world had been forced upon him by Father's poor judgment and by Z's actions.

How dare she think of herself as anything other than a vile creature - razing the only seat of surviving civilization? So much data, knowledge, equipment and precious machinery had been utterly destroyed! Two centuries of scientific progress gone in an instant. And now, even more radiation in the Commonwealth.

The destruction of the Institute was a crime against humanity. Anyone who committed a crime of this magnitude needed to face the consequences of her evil actions.

For true justice, she needed to be executed.

Father was already dead. Dead from the cancer eating him from the inside out for several years now.

Ayo wasn't sure, didn't know, if Father had known about Z's betrayal. Did he die thinking everything was going according to his plan? Or had he realized at the end that he had welcomed the agent of their destruction into their midst?

Ayo hoped the Director had known. He hoped Father had died in agony, knowing what he had wrought.

Anyone who listened to the only radio stations within range - Diamond City Radio and Radio Freedom - thought she was some kind of heroine. She fucking walked on water. She could do no wrong - she was singlehandedly rebuilding the Commonwealth and righting all the wrongs. She saved children, reunited families, helped anyone in need of aid.

The idiot Commonwealth people had it backwards. He would kill all of them if he could.

Viv came in after tapping at the door, "Hey, boss, we looked into that vault - 114, that you wanted us to."

Vivian Kitteridge was one tough broad. She was just a hand shorter than Ayo himself, who was 6-foot tall. She was rangy, and there was not a spare ounce of fat on her. She wore skin tight leathers that did nothing to hide her small waist and long legs. She wore her leather top unbuttoned too low, showing a lot of cleavage. She kept her dark blonde hair cut short, so no-one could get a hand hold on her head, but in contrast to the tough image she tried to portray, she had delicate, feminine features, and large blue eyes framed by thick brown lashes. She didn't boast face paint or tattoos, but used a lot of eyeliner, which made her eyes appear even more luminous and blue. Her lips had no humor in them, but retained a permanent tightening. She was fast and very nimble. The best part was that she asked "how high?" when he said jump.

Ayo arched a brow, then held out his hand, "And? Do go on, Vivian, I am all ears, my dear." He made himself give her a smile. Her continued loyalty was crucial. The others followed her lead.

She seemed to pose herself, to show him her attributes, "It's Skinny Malone's. He's taken possession and claims it's his territory now. The word on the street is that Z hit him really hard a couple of years ago and he never recovered. He's as vulnerable now as he'll ever be, until he recruits a lot more goons."

Ayo grimaced. Even his people seemed to admire Z, albeit reluctantly, knowing she was their enemy.

"Great job on getting the info, Viv." He smiled at her again. "I need you to get me numbers, Vivian," he ordered, "I want to know how many, what arms we'll be facing, and anything else you can get. I want that Vault."

"You got it, boss. You have any Buffout and some of that awesome Ultra Jet for me and the guys?"

"Over on the chem bench. Take as much as you like."

He was reduced to making chems for money and influence. A moron could do what he had been forced to do to survive. It was demeaning and beneath him, but he now had loads of caps. Enough to pay his own little tribe of raiders, and attract more of them every week. Caps and chems. That's what they wanted in life.

"That's why I love you so much, boss," Viv laughed as she scooped up all the chems and stuffed them into her pack. "This and you are so fucking smart. Not too bad in the looks department, either." She winked at him.

There was wiggle in her walk as she left the room.

Ayo shook his head. She had been flirting with him more and more overtly. As if he'd be interested in bedding the dirty, radiated wench.

Ayo turned to his coursers, whom he named Xavier and Weslyn. "Once we have the numbers, I want your take on whether this is doable," he said looking at them.

"Of course, sir," said Xavier, while Weslyn nodded once.

He had taken these two coursers during the battle, ordering them to come with him to his lab. He reprogrammed them as everyone else was panicking and were evacuating the Institute in a mad rush for the molecular relay. The other fools might race to have themselves be relayed above ground, but he wasn't going to go without some serious protection or preparation. So X7-22 became Xavier, and W4-16 became Weslyn and we're programmed to obey only him, have affection for him, and protect him.

As far as anyone knew, they were as human as the next guy. Here, he had them dress in leathers and armor and they fit in quite nicely.

He had no intention of sullying himself with the irradiated, mutated women above ground, so he had also programmed Weslyn to have sex with him, too. The Institute had severe rules condemning that practice, but, there was no more Institute, was there? And a man had needs. He had secretly made the complex programs on his own time as a kind of pet project, but also in case he ever needed to survive outside of the Institute. And hadn't his cleverness paid off?

In spades.

"Xavier, make up some new batches of chems," he said, "a case full of Jet and Buffout and a few Psycho and Ultras too." Turning to the female courser he said, "Weslyn, you come to me," Thinking about his needs and the suggestive words and motions from Liv had stirred him up, quite literally.

Dutifully, the courser came to him.

The Castle

Deacon showed up the next day, with three very scruffy looking synths in tow.

I watched as Curie heard Deacon's voice. She dropped everything and rushed to find him.

She was desperately in love with the spy. I think it frightened Deacon half to death, and he had fled when she persisted in pursuing him. There was something in his demeanor though, that made me think the attraction was not one way. He did have duties that took him from us after all. He was rescuing lost synths and keeping an eye on the Commonwealth. He was very good at catching rumors and then pursuing them until he found the truth.

He, Nick Valentine (in his new Gen 3 synth body), and Mayor Hancock had combined their intelligence efforts and this made it easier and more complete than any of them could accomplish on their own. Mayor Hancock walked with a permanent limp now, but he had survived the Black League's assassination attempt.

Curie had come to me several times near tears for advice, and I had told her to follow her heart.

Obviously her heart had one goal – Deacon. She wasn't giving up.

Deacon knew we would take any and all synths in and care for them. The synths could try us out and stay if they chose to. Danse was always official host and guide to the synths that either found their way to us or were brought to us by Deacon or another Railroad Agent. We had earned the call sign of a safe house and one for allies of the Railroad, a house surrounded by eight rays and one with a cross with the eight rays and found it painted on three of the outside walls in white paint.

Both Danse and Preston were both good at finding out what people liked to do and what they were good at, and finding jobs to match both of those. This made for very happy Castle residents.

"Monsieur Dickens," Curie greeted Deacon warmly, "I am so very, very glad to see you again. I hope you will stay with us for a few days, yes?"

Deacon smiled at her crookedly and shrugged, "There's nowhere I have to be in a hurry. I might park for a bit. See how my friends are faring."

Curie beamed, delighted. She took him by the hand and said, "Come, I want to show you my little home and laboratory we have been making."

They went, hand in hand, although even as I watched, Deacon gently disengaged his hand from hers and put a bit of space between them as they walked. Poor Curie.

Danse and Preston were with our newest potential residents. Shaun and his dogs were with them too.

Dogmeat and I went to meet the new synths, leaving the babies with Codsworth and Annie Drake.

Two were women, one a man. They were very thin and haggard looking. Their clothes were filthy. As with all gen 3s, they all looked to be in the prime of life and normal looking, if they had had their health. Not ugly nor overly attractive. They wouldn't stand out in a crowd. Which was the idea, I guess.

When I came up, Danse motioned me forward and Preston smiled.

"Hi, I'm Z," I said, holding out my hand to the first woman. She had medium brown hair, cut to just above her shoulders, brown eyes and nice features, under the grime.

"I call myself Feronia, after the goddess of freedom," she explained, shaking my hand, "It's an honor to finally meet you, Z."

"I hope you will find yourself a home here, with us, Feronia," I said.

I turned to the next synth. She was a red-head, with hair past her shoulders and green eyes. She too had even and normal features. "I am Admina," she said. Her voice was deep and pleasant, "I too am glad to finally see you with my own eyes. And Danse. He has become a legend among us."

"Welcome to The Castle," I took her hand.

I turned to the third. He offered his hand and said, "I call myself Berenger," the synth male said, with a firm shake of his hand.

"How have you been surviving these last two years?" I asked.

"We had found a deep cave to live in near a stream, and we foraged for food. Some people from a nearby settlement would leave us food once in a while, although they never found our cave. Deacon found us and told us we didn't have to hide anymore." Berenger shook his head, "I was afraid. It was not what we had been told to expect. We were told that if anyone above ground found out we were synths, they would kill us. Even though the settlers left food out for us, we were too afraid to come out and thank them, for fear it was just one or two people who didn't want to destroy us. Deacon has informed us there are several settlements willing to take us in. I asked if we could be brought to you."

"I am honored," I said, truthfully.

"And to you, Danse, as well," Admina said, "It is said you fought and won over your programming. That you can't be reset or mind-wiped. We want you to teach us how to protect ourselves. We don't want to lose our freedom and we don't want to be made to forget who we are."

Danse looked slightly puzzled, "And how did you hear all this?"

"There are others like us, still in hiding. We leaves messages for one another at different spots in the Commonwealth. It is true, isn't it?"

"Yes, it's true. I just don't know though if I can teach anyone how to do it." He frowned, thinking, "I can try, but I cannot promise there is a set method that can be reproduced." At her look of dismay, He smiled kindly at her, "We'll try our best, of course." I watched as Danse once again had worked his magic. The three synths visibly relaxed their tense postures. Their nightmare was over

Preston spoke up, "I'm sure you are tired from your journey."

Danse turned to our son, "Shaun, perhaps you'd be good enough to show our new friends to their quarters."

Shaun was bouncing with energy, "Sure!" he exclaimed happily. Geri and Freki had started a game of tug-of-war with a hunk of thick rope and were trying to entice Dogmeat into joining them.

Danse smiled at the three newcomers, "Rest, my friends, you are safe with us. Shaun will show you the various amenities we offer and will come for you when the mess is open. If you need refreshments now, Shaun will go to the kitchens and let them know what you want."

They thanked us and followed Shaun.

Shaun chatted away cheerfully with our newest arrivals as he led them to the quarters we had ready for new people. The Castle had come a long way from the briny, crabby, stinking mess it had been. We had repaired the walls, built new quarters and had running water and electricity in every section. Some knowledgeable settlers had built a good septic system too so every section had a bathroom with hot water.

We had come a long way in the past few years.

Preston turned to Danse, shaking his head in wonder, "You make them feel protected – like everything's going to be okay again."

Danse nodded, "We'll make sure they're going to be safe. That's what we do, eh Preston?"

"Yes, that's what we do," Preston grinned at him.

Deacon came up to me after the noon meal. I was feeding the twins in my rocker, and Danse was off with Shaun somewhere out there working on something or other. There was always something that needed checking out, building, repairing or improving.

For all the travelling we had done previously, having babies had definitely kept us more grounded. I didn't mind in the least. Sometimes I got antsy, but I had more help than I needed with the twins and Shaun. There were so few children, that the ones we did have were treasured. I had no shortage of volunteer caregivers.

So I had started sparring with Danse and practicing my sword play and shooting skills. I was doing crunches and push-ups too, to tone up my stretched out abdominal muscles. I was in pretty good shape at this point. My stamina needed a bit of work, but otherwise I was in fighting shape.

Deacon took a seat across from me and scratched his head and looked a little uncomfortable.

"Are you okay, Deacon?" I asked, concerned.

"Well, yes and no," he said, frowning, "I've got a problem with Curie. She is looking for intimacy from me, and I don't do intimate. I don't want to hurt her, she's sweet and kind, and beautiful and smart, but I …" his voice trailed away.

"You're gay?" I asked gently.

He looked shocked, "Hell, no. No, no, it's not that. It's that I had love once. The love of my life. Once was it for me." He looked away from me, "and it's my fault she was killed."

"I find that difficult to buy," I said, "someone else killed her, not you, right?" He didn't answer so I went on, "What do you think she would want for you, if she could talk to you right now?"

"Oh come on, Z, I see how you and Danse are. Could you ever be with anyone else if something happened to him? Especially if he was killed because he was associated with you?"

"I know that he would want me to be happy. How long has it been since your – wife? – died?"

"Eight years, five months, and eight days ago." He said.

"Wow. Forgive me for saying so, but it sounds a great deal like you are just punishing yourself and heaping on more guilt than anyone should bear." We sat in silence for a few minutes. The babies' heads drooped sleepily, first one, then the other.

"Deacon, help me up so I can get these girls to bed," I asked.

He jumped up and scooped up one of the sleeping toddlers and we laid them down next to each other in their crib.

I stretched my back by bending backwards then forward, then my arms, as I looked at him, "Let me ask you something, Deacon. Do you like Curie?"

He stood, shuffling his feet in a very non-Deacon way. "Of course I do! She's adorable – she's brilliant and kind and – yeah I like her fine," he said realizing what he sounded like.

"What would your wife say right now if she could reach out from the afterworld and give you advice? Putting aside your own inner voice which just wants you to suffer and suffer some more for something you didn't do,"

"I don't know," he mumbled, "I just came to see if you would kind of try to get her interested in someone else. You know, be a matchmaker." He was looking at his feet as if they were suddenly very interesting.

"She's very stubborn, Deacon. And she has made up her mind. She loves you. She wants you. So, if you don't care for her and you don't want her, you need to tell her yourself. But if you do care for her and want her, maybe it's time to shed the guilt and embrace life again. It's a gift, Deacon. We don't know how much time we have here. I believe in love and I believe in God. Both say beating yourself up is not part of the plan. Forgiveness includes forgiving yourself. And so that's my big advice of the day. Take it or leave it, Deacon. I care for you a lot and I would love to see you have some happiness. And Curie is an amazing woman. One of a kind."

"Well, thanks, I guess," he said morosely. "I will think on what you said. And you're right, I can't just string her along. It's not right." He tipped an imaginary hat at me, and left. Quickly.

I sighed deeply. This was up to both of them and I wasn't going to worry about them. I wasn't.

I used the intercom system we had put in for quick communication, us being outside the walls and all. I turned the dial to reach Codsworth.

"Hey Codsworth, you there?"

"Yes, mum. What can I do for you?"

"I need a sitter for the girls, please. They're sleeping and I will take my com with me, so you can call me when they wake,"

"Of course, mum. I'll be there in two shakes."

Codsworth came, and I went to our makeshift gym and exercise area. This was also outside the walls and recently finished.

I brought my favorite sword with me, just in case, I found someone who wanted to play with me.

Luke Forsythe was there and Eli Manning. They were practicing arm to arm combat. They were already drenched with sweat and barely looked up when I came in.

I stretched and bent, stretched some more, feeling everything warm up and get limber. Then I practiced Aikibatto iaido style – or solo sword exercises. Soon, I lost track of others, of time, deeply focused on control and perfect motion.

"Mind if I join you?"

Danse stepped in front of me, and held a wooden practice sword in his hands. He was definitely a laser rifle man, but he had wanted to learn swordsmanship from me.

"Are you going to hold back this time?" I asked frowning at him.

"Yes, to an extent," he said, "it is a practice match, and I wouldn't want to break your pretty sword."

"Ha. As if you could!" I challenged.

Realistically, we both knew he had to hold back a little. He was stronger, faster and more deadly than any man. My son had made him that way. No one knew but he and I and we thought it best that it stay that way.

I was beautifully warmed up and ready to go. Although he was stronger and faster, I had the better technique.

He waited for me to make a move. I made a feint towards his upper torso and when he whipped up his practice sword to parry, I swept my blade under and touch his thigh.

"Strike 1," I said, dancing back.

He came at me then, looking for an opening. I watched his eyes and his feet. It was too easy. When he tried to feint to my left and hit my right side, I was already there with my blade deflecting his blow. Then he brought up his knee so quickly that I barely saw it coming and he nearly knocked my sword from my hand. I recovered while I was still moving.

I spun, and touched him on the back of his thigh.

"Strike 2," I said, panting a bit.

I faked two strikes, one to his arm, the other his chest, following through to hit my real target. His butt.

"Strike 3, and you're out!" I laughed.

"I think I'll stick with my fists or my rifle," he said shaking his head. He was smiling though. He was proud of my fighting skills.

"You want to practice tactics in power armor?" he asked hopefully.

I should, I thought, so he could beat the pants off me. Actually, I think I might like that idea. The pants off, one, I meant. But just then my little communicator buzzed and I had a feeling my gym time was over.

It wasn't Codsworth though, it was Preston.

"Z, the Abernathys radioed. They say there's some huge monster terrorizing their settlement and they're begging for you to come. They say they trust only you and who you bring."

"Somethings not right, Preston," I said, "Connie wouldn't be having a trust issue without a cause."

"Maybe it's just because she has dealt with you from the beginning, is all," Preston said.

"Maybe," I said. Somehow I doubted it. Connie was a practical, strong and self-reliant woman. I had a feeling we had some rogue Minutemen or people posing as Minutemen that were giving her a problem.

"I'll see you in a bit. I've got to make sure I have the kids taken care of," I said.

"You are going?" he asked

"You bet," I said, "the Abernathys are my friends. And I want to find out what's going on, monsters and all."