Pain, it was the first thing she felt as she began to wake up. It had been the only thing she had felt for weeks. Every time she slept she prayed she'd wake up in her own bed and that this whole thing was just a nightmare. But no, it was real. The pain constantly reminded her of that. Groaning, she rose from the pile of thin rags that was her 'bed.' She tried to stand, but halfway up her legs collapsed beneath her. Instead, she propped herself against the wall of her cell and stared at the ground.

'Why?' She had thought this many times since her captivity began. The answer was always the same. Her parents were raiders, she was a raider, her friends had been raiders, and her captives were raiders; this was the life they had chosen. It hadn't been an easy life but it had been good. Steal food here, kidnap a settler there, and every once in a while, kill someone stupid enough to try and stop them. Sometimes she had felt guilty, but she always excused it. It wasn't personal, it was just survival, us or them.

'How?' The word echoed in her mind. What had gone so wrong? She still remembered the day clearly. It was supposed to be a simple raid on a mutfruit farm. It was a sort of birthday present from her fellow raiders. She loved mutfruit and had regularly eaten through their supply them. The present, however, soured. While their gang was raiding the farm and another gang ambushed them, taking them completely by surprise. Everyone she knew was cut down all around her until she was the only one. The leader of the rival gang, called Slash, decided to take her prisoner after she begged for her life. In retrospect, she wished they had shot her.

She shuddered as she remembered those first days of captivity. Slash was an appropriate name. Cutting was his favorite form of torture and he practiced it liberally on her. The other raiders laughed as they watched, taunting and insulting her as she screamed in pain.

A shot of pain ripped her into the present. She had only slightly shifted her position, but her numerous cuts made even this small movement painful. She had stopped keeping track of all her wounds long ago. There were too many now. Her eyes wandered around her prison. This raider gang had chosen one of the hundreds of abandoned buildings in Boston as there base. She wasn't sure what the building had been before, all she knew was her prison cell was a dirty, grimy bathroom. It hadn't taken long for the dirt and the grime to spread to her. She didn't bother trying to clean herself. Even if she had water to do so the dirt and stench would be back quickly. She had gotten used to the dirt and smell, but not the darkness. There were no windows, so there was no light, except what crept under the door.

A noise, footsteps, someone was coming. She began to tremble as the key entered the lock. The door opened to reveal her jailer, a raider named Gore.

"Come one, Red, the boss wants ya." Red, that was her nickname, because of her hair. It wasn't her real name. Not that it mattered. Nothing really mattered now.

Still trembling, she managed to get to her feet and stumble out the door, followed closely by Gore. He didn't need to tell her where to go, she knew. First, through the common room where the low-rank raiders ate and slept. Then, down a hallway with several doors leading to rooms where higher ranked raiders stayed. At the end of the hall, there was an imposing black door: Slash's room.

Once, she would have tried to fight but not anymore. Even if she did, they would only beat and punish her, not that they had ever needed an excuse. Whenever Slash was done with her the other raiders had their fun. Beatings and insults were the most common form of 'entertainment,' but they weren't the worst by far. The only things they couldn't do were kill her or damage her face. Slash had made those rules clear.

When they reached the end of the hall Gore opened the door and motioned for her to enter. Once she did he shut the door behind her. The room was dark, lit only by a few candles and what little light managed to creep through the closed shades on the windows. The room was fairly empty, with only a few pieces of furniture and discarded junk items. At the far end was a bed and sitting on it was Slash.

Red had heard old-world stories about a man called 'Boogey' that lived before the bombs fell. The stories always had him scaring children by hiding in their closets or under their beds. The stories never said what he looked like but Red had always pictured him as tall, unnaturally thin, and with sunken black pits for eyes. Slash was that picture given form, except he was real and much worse. In his hand, he held his favorite knife. Three inches of cold, cutting steel, and always covered in blood.

"Sleep well?" he asked. Red silently nodded."Good." Slash stood from his bed and toward her. "Because we have lots to do today and want to be finished before the day's over." He towered over her, playing with her red hair with his knife. Then he pressed the blade to her shoulder, hard enough to draw blood. Red winced, but remained silent. "Take your shirt off, we don't want to get blood on it, do we?" He smiled, amused with himself. Mentally bracing herself for what was coming next, she began to remove her shirt as ordered.

An explosion shook the building, making both of them stumble. "What in the world!?" Slash yelled. Gunfire erupted outside the room, followed by screams. Slashed sprinted from the room, knocking Red to the ground. Momentarily stunned, she sat there, listening to the gunfire. Mostly she heard the sound of pipe rifles firing rapidly. There was another sound, a gunshot, louder than the others, probably higher caliber. She heard it less frequently, but it was almost always followed by a raider scream.

Curiosity began to prod her to leave the room, to have a look. At first, she froze, Slash would be mad if he caught her, he would punish her. The gunfire was as unabating as her curiosity. Soon it won out over her fear and she slowly crawled out of the room on all fours. It took only a few seconds for her to reach the other end of the hall but it felt like hours. Once she reached the end of the hall the scope of the chaos shocked her.

Half of a wall had been blown to shreds. Wood and furniture were scattered everywhere. Red continued, crawling over several raider bodies that were laying on the ground, including Gore, who was covered in shrapnel wounds. When she reached the hole in the wall she winced and covered her eyes. She had been a prisoner so long she was unused to natural sunlight. Through the pain, she uncovered her eyes and forced them open.

Outside was pure chaos. Raider bodies were everywhere. Those still living had found cover wherever they could. Slash was behind the husk of an old car, shouting orders to his men and periodically popping up from cover to fire a round from his pipe revolver. Down the street about 40 feet, she saw a figure sprint from a ruined building to a destroyed car. Then the figure popped up and fired. A raider's head exploded. She heard Slash curse and yell at his men.

"Keep up the fire! Don't give him a chance to shoot back!"

Red could hear something in his voice she had never heard before: fear. For the first time in months, she felt hope. Hope that the nightmare might soon be over. Her first instinct told her to run, but she knew in her condition she wouldn't get far. Her eyes darted around, looking for another option. Just a few feet away, she saw what she was looking for: a pipe pistol dropped from a dead raider and still loaded. As quietly as she could, she made her way to the pistol. She made it, grabbing the pistol and moving to a pile of debris for cover. Carefully, she peeked over her cover to see if anyone had noticed her, no one had. Taking a deep breath, she aimed at the back of the nearest raider.

Bang.

Her trembling hand made the shot go high, missing her target completely. She swore, but thankfully in the chaos, no one noticed. Taking another deep breath she aimed again.

Bang.

The raider screamed and collapsed, clutching his back. A smile crept onto her face, the first on in a long time. She aimed again.

Bang.

Another scream, another raider fell. This time she was noticed.

"What the..?" A raider turned and saw her. "Why you little..."

Red fired again. The shot missed but raider jumped from cover to avoid a second shot from her. As soon as he left cover a shot from the figure down the street tore through the raider's side. Now Slash noticed her.

"Shoot her!" He screamed firing several rounds at her.

Red ducked, narrowly missing the barrage of gunfire. Fear began to creep back into her. She was outnumbered, outgunned, and weak from her captivity. She began to imagine what torture Slash would inflict on her for killing his men. Whatever it was would be long and excruciatingly painful. The trembling came back, she dropped the gun and wrapped her arms around herself. Closing her eyes, hoping it would all be over soon.

Another scream. More gunshots, but closer. Although everything in her body told her not to, she forced herself to peek out of cover to see what was going on. Whilst the raiders had been distracted by her, the figure had rushed their positions. Now less than ten feet away, the figure had a raider skewered on a sword and, using the body as a shield, fired at the remaining raiders with a 10mm pistol until the magazine was empty. Once they heard the 'click' of an empty gun, two raiders rushed forward with tire irons, intent on clubbing the stranger to death. The figure removed his sword from the corpse and charged the attackers. Deftly the figure parried the first strike and slashed the raider across the chest. The second raider didn't get a chance to swing before being decapitated.

Slash, seeing he was running out of men, dashed for a ruined building across the road. Probably, Red guessed, trying to make an escape.

"Hey!" his last man shouted. "Come back here you-gah!" The figure stabbed him through the chest. Slash made it to the building and dove into cover. He stood up and aimed and the now exposed attacker.

At that moment two things happened. First, Slash's revolver 'clicked.' Empty. Second, something landed a few feet from him. Slash looked down. A grenade.

"Sh-" He ducked. The grenade exploded, sending shrapnel everywhere.

The ruined building trembled at the explosion. Then, with a groan, part of the roof fell in, on top of Slash, burying him.

'He's… he's gone.' she couldn't believe it. After all that he did to her, he was dead, just like that. She turned her attention to the figure, whom she now had a clear view off.

Large dark-brown trench coat, black body armor underneath, a dark-brown helmet and mask that covered the face. A holstered pistol at his hip, a rifle slung on his back, and a Chinese sword in hand. It was an imposing figure. A figure, whose attention was now squarely on her. She began to tremble again. He took a step toward her sword still in hand. Red stood up and raised her hands, showing she had no weapon. The figure sheathed his sword but continued toward her.

"P-Please…" It was the only word she could manage. While she was a prisoner speaking only earned her a beating. Now she found it hard to find the words she needed.

The figure stopped only half a step away. The masks tinted glass visor kept her from seeing the figure's eyes, but she could feel the gaze. For several seconds they stood there, looking at each other. Finally, the figure spoke.
"Who are you?" It was a male voice, but something was off about it.

"Red. I-I was their prisoner."

"I see." The voice was flat, unemotional. He pulled a stimpack from inside his coat as he stepped forward. Red winced as the needle entered her body. "You need medical attention." The stranger continued as he placed the used up stimpack back inside his coat. "I can take you to Diamond City; they can treat you there." He turned away from her and began rummaging through a nearby corpse. Pulling out a few caps and bullets before moving on to the next one. Red just stared. Was she really free? After all this time, she was free? The man continued to loot raider bodies until he had gone through them all. He then stood up and turned back toward her. "Can you walk?" He asked in his neutral voice. Red nodded and stepped toward him, but only made it a few steps before crumbling to the ground. "Hm." The stranger unslung his rifle and knelt beside her. "I can carry you on my back. It's not too far."

"Who are you?" She asked as she climbed onto his back.

"They call me Teutonic."

"Teutonic? That's not a name."

"It isn't?" The question caught her by surprise.

"No."

"Hm."

Red wasn't sure what to say to that, so she said nothing as he carried her on his back with a rifle in hand. Slowly she began to doze off as the stimpack began to take effect.

Red didn't remember much about the next few days. Most of it was spent in a room recovering and periodically being treated by Doc Sun. Slowly, her old energy came back and the scars began to disappear from her body. A week later she was given a clean bill of health and allowed to leave.

"Do I owe you anything, Doc?" She asked him as she stepped out.

"No, your friend covered my expenses. He's been in and out this past week, checking on you every time he was in town."

"Oh, okay. Where is he now?:

"I am sure I have no idea. Now I need to get back to work. Try and stay out of trouble please."

'Trouble, heh, if you only knew.' she thought to herself. If they knew she had been a raider. She doubted they would have let her in the city, much less treated her. She stepped out into the sun and took a deep breath. It was good to finally walk around again. Before now she had never been in Diamond City. Now that she had seen it, she could tell why it was called the Jewel of the Commonwealth. People could live and work here, safe and without the nagging fear of attack. In a world of deathclaws and ghouls, Diamond City was a safe haven. A crowded, loud, and dirty haven, but a haven nonetheless. As she headed toward the central marketplace she began to wonder, what would she do now? She hadn't a cap to her name and only clothes on her back; which, thankfully, were clean and new.

She could go back to being a raider. It was what she knew but, the idea didn't sit well with her. After going through all that; was she just going to back to what she did before? No, she couldn't. But what else could she do? Maybe mercenary work? Possibly, Now that she was recovered she could fight but the only mercenary group that did well was the Gunners. 'Raiders with better guns.' she had always thought to herself. There was no certainty that she could join either. They may just shoot her outright rather than recruit her. No, the Gunners were no good either.

The marketplace was a hub of activity. People buying and selling goods, some eating lunch. Through the mess of people she saw her rescuer. Sitting on a bench. He was still wearing the same outfit he had on when he saved her. As she watched she saw him manipulate his mask, causing it to lift slightly, before lifting a bowl of soup to the opening. After he finished with his soup pulled the mask back down to its original position. Through it all Red had been unable to see any of his face. After placing his bowl aside he walked over to pegboard just on the outskirts of the market, filled with small white papers tacked to it. Red walked over to him.

"Teutonic?"

He looked over his shoulder and acknowledged her with a nod. "You seem better." His voice was still the same neutral voice.

"I am."

He nodded again and turned his attention back to the board. Silence. Red awkwardly shifted from one foot to the other.

"I…" she trailed off.

"Yes?"

"I…" Why was this so hard? "Thank you." she finally forced it out. She wasn't used to thanking anyone. Raiders didn't do it much. Once again, Teutonic nodded.

"You're welcome." He plucked a paper from the board and pocketed it. Then he walked over to one of the store stalls. "Arturo, I need fifty .308 rounds and fifty 10mm."

"Sure man, one moment." As Arturo searched for the rounds Teutonic counted out the needed caps on the counter."Here you go." Arturo handed him a bag of rounds, taking the caps that had been placed on the counter. "Come back again."

Teutonic said nothing and walked away, with Red following beside him.

"Where are you going?" She asked.

"North."

"To do what?"

"Hunt raiders."

Red stopped where she was."What?"

"Hunt raiders." he repeated not stopping. Red rushed to catch up with him.

"Why?"

"It's what I do." He pulled the paper from his pocket and handed it to here as he continued toward the city gate. She read the paper.

Raiders have set up shop somewhere near the Witchcraft Museum. No reward offered except any loot found and the good feeling of a job well done.

Red looked Teutonic, then the paper, then to him again. Hunting raiders. She wasn't sure how to feel about that. True, there was no love lost between raider gangs, but the thought of someone actively hunting them down unnerved her. She had been a raider, and he hunted down and killed people like her.

'People like her captors.'

Gears began to turn in her head. The thought of her captors and what they had done to her made her blood boil. She wanted to lash out, kill something. Like raiders. The pair reached the gate and Teutonic halted and motioned for the gatekeeper, Danny, to open the gate. As the aging metal gate groaned open, she spoke up.

"I'm coming with you."

Teutonic turned to face her. "You are?" although his voice remained dull neutral, she could hear a glimmer of something: curiosity? Confusion? She couldn't tell, but it was there.

"I am." she replied firmly.

"I see." Teutonic continued out of Diamond City and into Boston. Red was speechless, she had expected some sort of argument or protest. But he hadn't, he just continued on his way. She followed him out. After a few minutes of quiet, she spoke again.

"You didn't tell me your name." she said to him.

"I did. I said it was Teutonic."

Red shook her head. "That is not a name, it's a nonsense word. I can't call you that, it doesn't sound right."

"It doesn't?"

"Yes! It doesn't!" Now she was beginning to get annoyed with the way he talked.

"I see."

"Stop saying that! Say something different!"

"Okay."

Red gave an exasperated sigh. They continued in silence.

'This may not have been a good idea.' she thought to herself. 'He may be totally crazy.' For the next half hour neither said anything. The only sound to be heard was their own steps.

"Tue." she thought aloud.

"What?"

"I'm gonna call you Tue. It sounds a little better."

Silence. Perhaps he was thinking it over?

"I see."

"Stop saying that!" she almost shouted.

"Sorry."

A/N: Thanks for making it all the way through this chapter. I was inspired to write this story by the Tales from the Commonwealth mod for Fallout 4. It made me think, 'You know, what stories besides that of the Sole Survivor could be told?' I'm also trying to write this story like it could actually happen within the universe and canon of Fallout. If you see any errors or just have some writing advice don't hesitate to let me know. Feedback is important to becoming a better writer and, hopefully, making the story that much more enjoyable for you. Thanks.