Chapter One: The Freezer

(Hey guys, just figured I'd start a new Fallout tale due to the release of the new game. I did not give up on my previous stories, but looking back, my original ones weren't good, and while I thank any who pshed through the crappy early chapters, I feel I owe it to potential future readers to make a story with a less rocky beginning. I shall continue all of my stories in an alternating pattern, and this will be my last one until at least two projects are ended. This will tie into my other Fallout story. Also, Fallout belongs to Bethesda.)

James awoke, still holding Shaun, now asleep. He was…cold. Then he remembered. The bombs. The vault. The pod. Blinking, he looked around, and was greeted by a group of people. Across from him, Beth was also coming to, but still locked in her pod.

"It's okay," said one man, balding with a scar and a voice as coarse as sandpaper. "Just give us the kid."

"No, I've got him," said James, starting to get out. "But my wif-"

"No, the kid," said the man, putting a .44 revolver in James's face. "I don't want to do this, but I will if I must."

Swallowing, James looked to his wife, watching the scene unfold like the audience of some horror movie. Only this was real. Thinking quickly, James knew he would be at a disadvantage if he tried to fight back. His limbs were stiff, he was disoriented, and he was unarmed.

"Hey pal," he said looking at Shaun, "it'll be alright." Handing him off to the man, he bit his lip, a mix of sadness and anger taking hold in him. As the pod closed, the man looked at both him and a visibly livid Beth.

"At least we have two backups, now," he said, before following out the team out with their son. The last thing James saw before going back under was Beth slamming her fists on the glass of the chamber…

Awakening to alarms, James and Beth both fell from their pods, feeling week. He had no idea how long it had been. It seemed like only a second since the scarred man came and stole his son, but with cryogenics involve, it could have been days, weeks, months….maybe even years. Shuddering from more than just the cold, he began to stand, only to be immediately punched across his face by Beth, knocking him back to the floor.

"You sonofabitch! How could you just hand him over? Your son," she said, fighting back tears. "What kind of father does that?"

"One that can get him back," said James, standing again, rubbing his (now sore) jaw. "I'm a solider, remember? Give me a weapon and a chance, and I can make sure we get him back. You know I love him. But I couldn't help him, or you, with a bullet in my brain." She stared at him, her obsidian black hair still tied back, contrasting her pale skin, often earning her the nickname "Snow White." Her blue eyes were probably the scariest thing that James had seen since Alaska. Especially when angry. Contrasting her porcelain appearance, he could see his reflection behind her: weathered, tanned, and dark, his hair grown to his neck. Scarred from his time in a prison camp.

"Damnit, James," she said, his words now sinking in. "Just…"

"Hey," he said, hugging her tightly. "We'll find him. It will be alright. But right now, we need to get out of here. Stay behind me in case any of those shits are still hanging about."

Nodding, she stepped behind him, as her checked the other pods. None would open. Somberly, they walked on, the alarm adding tension, the vault in a state of disarray. One thing was obvious: they had been out for more than a couple hours. Halting his wife, they stopped. Hearing something odd, they looked around the corner. She screamed, and he jumped from cover and stomp kicked the abomination before them: a roach about the size of a lap dog. As he did so, green gore splattered from the monstrosity, and he could see Beth fight to keep from evacuating her stomach.

"Giant roaches? What the hell," she said, coming over to observe. Despite its condition, it was obvious a roach of sorts. But massive.

"Well, maybe it's the radiation. Then we have been under at least a couple of years," he said, shrugging.

"Oh, right doctor, I forgot about your . in nuclear physics and entomology," she said, looking away. He ignored the barb. He never had a chance to seek a higher education, and this was always a sore spot for him. Leading on, they saw several more of the roaches, and James made quick work of them. With each one crushed, he pictured the man who took his son. He had every intention on inflicting pain upon him. But for now, these would do.

Looking around the room, he could tell they were in some generator room. Of course, the random arc of electricity hardly looked safe. He was curious as to how that occurred. Looking down, his eyes widened. Several skeletons were laid before them, in the vault suits and lab coats of the scientists. When did this happen. Looking over to check on Beth, he could see she was not taking any of this well at all.

Coming to the Overseer's office, he grabbed a pistol from the table. Looking around, he noticed a cage of supplies, a terminal, and a locked door. Opening his mouth to ask Beth to take a look at the terminal, he was surprised to find her already at work. Moving on to the cage, he found more ammunition, another pistol, and some sort of experimental cannon like device on display. The lock looked too advanced for him, so he left it. Placing the other pistol on the desk next to Beth, James cracked his neck.

"Found anything, babe?"

"Well, apparently the Overseer was an ass, and there was a revolt," she said, still skimming the records. "Oh, and this. Figured this would interest you." Suddenly, the door opened behind James, and he smiled. She may have been a lawyer, but Beth also knew her way around computers. Then, his smile faded as he heard more of the roaches scurrying down the hallway. Beth picked up the pistol, put a round in the chamber, walked into the hallway, and opened fire upon the roaches. Running over, James helped her, and while her aim was off, he had to admit she was a natural with the piece. Moving on, the two eventually made it to the end, the cavernous room that served as their shelter when the bombs began to drop, God knows how long ago. Two more skeletons awaited by the exit console, like they were fleeing something.

Noticing his wife looking around the area, Jams observed her before she leaned over and picked up the arm of a skeleton. Realizing the Pip-Boy was her objective, he looked to the other one and also grabbed it. As he was putting his on and testing the systems, Beth plugged hers into the console, and began working on opening the door. Rusty metal scraped upon metal, and the cavern shook with life. Looking back, Beth flashed that same smile that drove him crazy when they first met. Together, they crossed the bridge and entered the elevator. As it rose, James placed his hand upon Beth's shoulder.

"No matter what, we will find him," he said. Looking back, her eyes showed the same anger and sorrow as before. But now, he could see hope as well.

The light was blinding. Beth had to wait for her eyes to adjust. When she could see, she gasped. Before them, the land they once called home was a tattered, withered land. It looked dead.

"We aren't in Kansas anymore," she muttered, and James began walking back to their old neighborhood. Looking once more, she began to follow him. "So, think anyone is left?"

"Yeah, of course," he stated, a slight tone of pleading in his voice. "It's impossible to carpet bomb the whole nation, and there are other vaults."

"I guess you got a point," she said. The walk down the hill to their home was somber. Cars, old trash, and more littered the area. Some homes had holes in the holes in the roofs and walls, and others had even collapsed upon themselves. The couple had kept their arms at the ready, with James obviously going back to his time in war, and Beth was feeling out of place. Two blue ghosts, they treaded silently down the street to their old house. Soaking in the moment, the two were suddenly caught off guard by a familiar, British voice.

"Why, is it you? Mr. James, Mrs. Beth! You're alive," from the house, Codsworth floated over. He was rusty, his original silver plating worn away. Banged and scratched here and there. He had been through a lot, but he seemed chipper.

"Hey pal, good to seeya," said James, holstering his pistol. Beth followed suit, as her husband asked, "Have you noticed a group of people coming through here?"

"Why, no sir, I've been alone since the bombs fell," Codsworth said, fidgeting slightly. "Where is Shaun? Will he be joining us?"

"No," Beth said, tightening her fists as James looked down. "Someone came, and took him. Codsworth, please, if you had seen him, or anyone, please, tell us."

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but I had not," he said. "But I will be happy to help you search for clues. Before that, however, might I interest you in any food? I'd imagine you are hungry, you are late for dinner by about 200 years."

"The hell?"

"200?"

"Well, closer to 210, actually," Codsoworth said, fidgeting even more. Kneeling, James looked him in the eye.

"Pal, what's wrong?"

"Well…it's been awful! 200 years, alone," Codsworth said, turning away. "And now master Shaun…it's hopeless, isn't it?"

"No," Beth said, determined. "We will pull through this. And Codsworth, we are here now."

Seemingly perked up, the Mr. Handy zipped off, and James watched.

"I'll go with him, see if you can salvage anything from the house," was all he said before following the mechanical butler. Walking in the house, a wave of nostalgia washed over her. The living room was destroyed. The kitchen in shambles. Walking down the hall, she found Shaun's old crib, a single rocket remaining, and crooked. Biting back the tears, she bagan to clean. Her mother always said, "When life is a mess, a bit of spring cleaning can fix that." Well, even a half hour later, she felt no better, although the house now looked a bit more habitable. Eventually, James returned, toting a backpack filled with supplies.

"No luck so far," he said, his face somewhat crestfallen. "But Codsworth says there are people over in Concord, and maybe they will be able to help. I should be back around nightfall."

"I'm coming with you," she said, beginning to stand. Blocking her way, James shook his head.

"Please, stay. Codsworth needs you," he said. Apparently, her anger was evident, and he raised his hands. "Besides, if I run into any trouble, I can probably work better if I only half to look after myself. Codsworth says this is an incredibly different world. I don't even know what I will be running into."

"So, I'm just a burden?"

"No," he said. "But think about it this way: what if someone else comes along while we are gone? We need to keep this place. Sounds like safety is hard to come by, may as well keep it."

Considering his words, she eventually nodded. Crossing her arms, she looked out of the window. Taking her chin in his hand, James leaned in and kissed her softly. She eventually gave in and kissed back. A moment later, she broke apart.

"Just, come back, okay? I don't know if I can stand losing you as well," she whispered, tears in her eyes.

"I promise," he said. "I'll also see about finding any food while I'm gone. But take Codsworth with you to Old Man Stan's basement. He may have been crotchety, but maybe he has some supplies in that old cellar." Nodding, the both left the house, and trudged on in opposite directions.

This was the first day of the rest of their lives. Ironically, it would take them the end of the world to see the truth of their old lives, but for now, their only concern was to find their son, and reunite their family.