A/N: This is my first that I've published. I want honest opinions, good or bad. It's just a series of days in the life of my lone wanderer. Let me know what you think. Please keep in mind that there are gaps in-between the days. It wouldn't make much since if there wasn't :P

Day One: I just killed someone. 3 hours out of the vault, and I've already stolen someone's life. Her name was Silver. She had wasteland drugs, caps, and food. She deserved it. I needed help and she just stood there acting like a paranoid bitch. I lathered the blood on my hands and wiped my blade on my jumpsuit. I undressed Silver, knowing I could sell her clothes somewhere and buy some ammo for this pistol I knocked off Amata. I blocked off the doors as best as I could, and crawled into Silver's bed, ignoring the fact that her body was lying on the flip side.

Day Two: "When are you heading out, kid?"

"I don't know, Gob," I paused looking at the friendly bartender, and taking another sip of my whiskey. "I'm low on caps and ammo."

"Then go fuckin' loot someone's shit, or scavenge elsewhere." Jericho snarled, taking the whole shot glass in one perfect sip. I rolled my eyes and glanced around the room.

"I think Moira's still got some things for me to do, I guess I'll finish that and then head out. Should take a week tops, maybe? I don't know.." I trailed off, speaking to no one in particular. The front door creaked, and in walked Colin Moriarty. Gob immediately turned into a nervous cleaning frenzy. He shot one solitary glare my way as I shot up some psycho underneath the bar. That's not why he was glaring, though. He didn't even see that. Colin and I, we just don't see eye to eye. I don't like the way he treats Gob, and he just doesn't like anything about me, I suppose. What, did he really think he'd be the only big-mouthed smart ass around here forever? Pfft.

"You know, Gob," I said slowly as I removed the Psycho from my vein and slipped the empty bag in my pocket. "As soon as I finish business with my dad, and make enough caps, I'm going to get you out of this." I stood up and walked toward the door. "I'll get you out one way," I said as I tossed a few caps on the bar, "or another." With that last line being said, I flashed the sawed-off attached to my waist, and stumbled out the door.

Day Three: "Deactivate the land mines, test rat. Reach the park, test rat. Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you there's an old hermit sniping every car you walk by, so don't get blown the fuck up, test rat." I mocked Moira as I pushed the gates open to the scrapyard southeast of Minefield. I was pretty bad-off. I was so burnt I smelled like Brahmin steak, and there was so much blood, I was pretty sure I was bleeding from somewhere vital.

I heard a raider laugh somewhere near-by as an incinerator ignited and a dog yelped. I smirked, pulling Arkansas' rifle off my back, and limping toward the noise. As I turned the corner, I immediately felt delirious. There were six raiders lying on the ground. Their insides were lying beside them, and there was a big beige and black dog curled up on top of a headless scavenger. I wasn't high at the moment, so I assumed it wasn't a hallucination. But if it wasn't a hallucination, then what the fuck?

"Ohhhh shit." I grinned. The dog. The dog mutilates raiders. That's fantastic! I stepped toward the dog, and began to talk to it. I'm holding a conversation with a homicidal pooch. I think I might be senile. I convinced it the scavenger was dead, and there was no harm in me scavenging the scavenger. Scavenging the scavenger. Oh, the twisted irony. Among other useless things I found a plastic bag of a random assortment of foods with a label on it.

"Dogmeat," I whispered running my finger over the letters. The lop-eared mutt pricked his ears at this and sat at my feet. Ah, his name. As soon as I turned to leave, the dog was on my heels. Despite my best efforts, it has yet to leave.

Day Four: "Brilliant!" I smirked, taking an excited look around. "It's a city of ghouls, Dogmeat. They're just like Gob." I pushed open two large doors, and stumbled right into the bar Winthrop told me about.

I scored chems with Ahzrukhal, and somehow I ended up huffing jet with a ghoul wearing pajamas. He called himself Snowflake. He was lying on his mattress, and I was lying next to it.

"I don't even know why I'm after the asshole. How can you chase someone who abandoned you? I think I just want answers," I yawned, slowly drifting into a drug-induced sleep.

Day Five: "I can't believe this shit!" I snarled, throwing a puny fist against the outer wall of Rivet City. I cringed at the devastating crack, as my hand buckled beneath the power. As I brought the broken hand to my chest, I knew the pain was about to hit. I winced, as I muttered a string of profanities and kicked the railing. I caught the glance of the guard at the bridge. He only shook his head, and scanned the water, mumbling something about me being a psycho. I'd show him psycho if my hand would stop throbbing long enough for me to give him a good left hook.

"Fucking deadbeat!" I seethed, growing angrier at Dad for abandoning me. How the holy Christ-sucking fuck am I supposed to find this asshole if he won't stop running?

Day Six: "Are you fucking serious right now? I explain to you what an asshole you are for abandoning me, and all you can say is 'I'm sorry you feel this way'?" I was fucking fuming. Nothing in the world could calm me down at that moment; nothing.

"Honey, I never meant to abandon you. This is about something much bigger than the both of us."

"No, fuck you, Dad. They tried to kill me when you left. Mom, huh? Is it about Mom, Dad? Why don't you fucking worry about the part of your family that's fucking alive?" I shouldn't have said that. I know it was a below-the-belt hit. I clenched my jaw, realizing I hurt myself after saying that. I saw the look in Dad's eyes as well, he couldn't even respond.

Day Seven: "Can you believe this shit! I rescue that fucker and he basically says I'm sorry everyone in the vault wanted to beat your head in because of me, but it was for a good reason. What are you even doing here? And come with me to Rivet City, you've got chores to do for me! I can't believe I'm actually helping the fucker." Dogmeat woofed and clawed the metal grate inside the Jefferson Memorial. Last chore for Dad. Last one. I opened it, and crawled inside, with Dogmeat to my right.

Suddenly, Dogmeat froze, as the fur on his back stood straight up. I finished up the chore, as Dogmeat bore his teeth at an oncoming vertibird. The guys climbing out of it are wearing midnight-black power armor, and carrying energy weapons. I left my fucking gun with Dad. He was supposed to repair it while I did this last chore. Fuck... Dad!

"Dogmeat, come on! Momma doesn't have her gun, and we need to warn Dad!" I pleaded with the on-edge mongrel as we rushed through the pipes, and fell on our asses back in the basement. I was immediately hit in the ribs by a laser pistol. Great. He has power armor and energy weapons and I have a combat knife and a fuzzy lop-eared dog.

Dogmeat wasted no time wrestling the fucker to the ground, ripping off his helmet, and tearing into his jugular. He staggered toward me, his face covered in blood, and dropped the soldier's gun at my feet.

Day Eight: The man I've spent to past few weeks hunting is dead. I don't know how to feel about it. I have no emotions left. I feel numb, and very empty. Rothchild won't shut up, even though Dogmeat is the only one actually listening to him. My life is collapsing down one wall at a time, and no one cares about anything but using me to help them.
I left. I told him I'd be back later this week to help. I think I lied. I don't want to do anything right now. I think I'll head back to Megaton, or sit outside Vault 101 and try to pick-up their signal. I know it sounds crazy, but I just want to hear the Vault songs again. I want to feel like a kid, safe in the vault, if only for a while.

Day Nine: Figures. The vault needed my goddamn help, too. I should have blown the fucker up. I should have blown everyone sky-high. I save them, and Amata locks me out. Stupid bitch.

"Why the hell did she call out to me? We were never friends. I didn't have any friends. Freddie and I were secretly friends until Butch found out when we were seventeen. I never had any other friends. Secretly, though, I always wanted to be like Butch. I thought he was cool, just like I wish I could be a raider now. Fucking Butch. I hope he's not serious about coming out here. He'd die very quickly, and so will anyone that tags along with him.

"Come on, you bloodthirsty hound dog, let's go visit Gob and Jericho." I yawned, making my way down the hill, with Dogmeat yipping and running around my legs.

Day Ten: "Come on, baby. Let's go for a walk. Momma wants to shoot something." I called from the upstairs portion of my house. I strapped a combat knife on one hip, a sawed-off shotgun on the other, and the Reservist's Rifle to my back.

It didn't take too long to get to Springvale. We were headed straight for the school. It doesn't matter how many times you clear raiders out of there, there's always a new gang a few days later.

"Dogmeat, we split. You go around from the right, and I'll take the left. Be quiet, and sneak up on them. Now go." A few seconds after we split up, Dogmeat emitted a long howl. I knew that howl. It meant someone important was dying or dead. I hated that howl.

The raiders knew we were there. I heard a male raider make a comment about shutting the mutt up. Fuck being subtle now.

"Dogmeat, cool it!" I yelled, from the other side of the building. "Let's kill the raiders first." Damn dog. Oh well, a firefight is more fun head-on rather than stealthily.

"Where are you, you little bitch?" Called the raider, "Come out, come out, wherever you are!" I heard him chant as I heard the familiar clanging of bullets being loaded into a chamber.

"Here I am!" I called as I rounded the corner precisely as Dogmeat rounded his. There were only two of them; a male, and a female. Dogmeat grabbed the female by the jugular and they went sprawling off the edge, straight to the floor in the school. I tried to squeeze off a shot at the remaining raider, only to realize my sawed-off was jammed. I threw it to the ground, and unclasped my knife from my waist. He sprayed the air with bullets aiming in no particular direction, and I took one to the shoulder.

"Fuck this!" I yelled hurling the knife at the raider and hitting him right in the heart. He staggered a moment before collapsing to his knees and stumbling over. Dogmeat strode up beside me as I re-clipped my knife and gun to my waist. I have to fix this fucker. I thought as I looked at my sawed-off. I ran my fingers along the back of my shoulder, making sure I had an exit wound. I did. Good, now I won't have to dig the bullet out.

Dogmeat yipped loudly and sprinted around the corner. As I rounded the corner, I stiffened. I spotted Dogmeat pawing at a very pale corpse; Freddie Gomez's corpse. Corpse? No, no. Body. He can't be dead. I rushed over, trying to feel for a pulse. I couldn't hear Dogmeat's whining, or Freddie breathing; all I heard was my heartbeat in my ears. Finally, I found a very faint pulse. I'd try my best to save him, but honestly, I don't think he's going to make it.

Day Eleven: "Goddamnit! I hate these fuckin' fuckers!" I snarled, kicking what was left of the Albino Radscorpion I had mini-nuked the shit out of just minutes before. "I don't know what it is about the southwest end of the Capital Wasteland that attracts so many fucking Albino and Giant Radscorpions." Dogmeat yipped in response, and Freddie only shrugged. He didn't talk much, but I already planned on finding out what left him dying in Springvale.

After sunset we sat around a fire I built. Dogmeat was licking his wounds from the day, Freddie was fumbling with his fingers, and I was inhaling a sweet, sweet cigarette. Man, I just don't find these things enough, I thought as the bittersweet nicotine wafted from my nose.

"Where are we?" Freddie's voice was monotone and emotionless, as if he really didn't care where we were. I don't think he did, I think he asked strictly because Freddie doesn't like silence.

"We just passed the F. Scott Key Trail and Compound, and we're headed toward Girdershade. I'd say we're about halfway between the two." I paused, blowing a smoke ring and flicking my cigarette into the fire. "Look, kid. I'd really appreciate it if you could tell me what the hell happened to you before I found you. I know you got shot. Was it the raiders? Why didn't you have a weapon, and why were you traveling alone?" His eyes went from mine to the fire, and he didn't move them. He stayed silent for a long-while, and drew a breath. I didn't even think he was going to continue speaking.

"I wasn't alone…. not at first." He began, never taking his eyes up from the fire. "Butch convinced me to leave the vault with him. We were only able to knock off one pistol from my dad's dresser. Butch had it. We figured we would shoot someone out here right after we got out, and we'd take their gun. It wasn't long before we came across the raiders at the school. Only one was carrying a gun. Butch and I thought we'd sneak up on him and drill him in the back of the head. I was supposed to take his gun after that, and we'd kill the other one. But it didn't happen like that, because they heard us coming. They pinned me up against the wall and ordered Butch to shoot me. They told him if he shot me, they'd let him go free.." Freddie trailed off, and my eyes narrowed. That fucker. My blood was boiling so high, I thought it was gonna squirt out my ears.

"and he did it." Freddie continued. "And as soon as he shot me, the raider pulled the hammer back on his gun and aimed it right between Butch's eyes." I felt a mischievous grin curl across my face as I imagined Butch getting shot. He thought he was so damn tuff(not tough, mind you). I focused my attention back on Freddie.

"Butch thought he killed me to save his own ass, and he didn't even give a shit. After a few seconds the raider decided it was time to end Butch's life. I closed my eyes, and all I heard was a click. Opening them back up I realized what happened. The dumbass raider forgot to reload his gun. Either that, or it jammed.. I don't know. I don't know a lot about guns, but as soon as the shot didn't fire, Butch ran. He ran, and he laughed as he ran. I haven't seen him since."

Day Twelve: I normally didn't lock my front door, but ever since Freddie moved in, I have been. He seems to think that someone could easily walk through the door and shoot me in my sleep. He kind of had a point, but I don't see anyone doing that since Jericho's house is within a couple yards distance from mine, and he'd hear the shot. Then again, they could always slit my throat. Huh. I never thought about that before; I'm surprised I'm not dead right now.

I moved that couch from the extra room upstairs to the living room, and moved Freddie a bed in there. He was sitting on the couch right now, fumbling with his hands. That caught my attention. I remember when we were in high school, his hands used to tremble real bad when he was nervous, scared, or anxious. He used to fumble with them in a backwards attempt to keep them steady.

"Uhm, I've been meaning to ask you something. I don't mean for it to be dick-thing to say or anything like that.. but did you give up on finding Doc? I haven't seen you even attempt to search for him since I've been with you." Oh. Okay. I've been so busy since Dad died that it's never really sunken in what happened. I don't know how I'm about to tell this. Telling Freddie is like facing this thing head-on, and slapping myself in the face with it. I've only been broken in my own mind. I haven't broken enough for anyone to see. I have a feeling I'm about to, though. My eyes were already watery.

"See, Freddie. The thing.. the thing is that-" I bit my lip to avoid crying. I squeezed my eyes shut before yelling "my dad is dead!" Freddie didn't respond right away, and I knew it was because he didn't know what to say.

"How?" He asked slowly, as he pulled me onto the couch next to him. I swallowed hard and told him everything that happened the past few days. Again, he was quiet for a while. His hands weren't shaking. Did he over-come that or wasn't he nervous anymore?

"Hey," he said softly. "Don't cry. Everything's okay now." He extended an arm my way and pulled me into him. I didn't even realize I was crying until I had soaked the front of his clothes with tears.

Suddenly it hit me. It hit me how dead dad really was. It hit me how I was banished from home forever. It hit me how I was going to die in vain out here. I was going to die alone, pissed off, hurt, and scared.

Day Thirteen: You know what's funny? When I was ten I had the biggest crush on Freddie, and I wanted to be with Freddie, and now we have this off and on thing. I think he's using me, and he doesn't know it. Or maybe he does know it, either way I think he just needs someone to depend on out here.

We've been Butch-hunting for two weeks. It's funny, but it's true. I want to blow his brains out his ass so badly. I'd planned on letting Freddie get the final blow though, since it was basically his right anyway. We tried, Megaton, and found nothing. Tenpenny tower said he was heading for Rivet City. Rivet City said he left a week ago, and didn't know where he was going. I figured we'd head for Underworld now. Though I don't see Butch being around a bunch of ghouls, but it's worth a shot.

Freddie and Dogmeat irritate the living hell out of each other. It's the funniest fucking thing to watch.. Freddie took Dogmeat's spot beside me in bed at home, so Dogmeat had to switch to Freddie's bed in the other room. Dogmeat, in turn, has begun to haul ass with Freddie's belongings and attempt to squeeze between us when we camp somewhere away from home. When he can't fit between us, he lays right on top of Freddie.

Day Fourteen: "So what happened to the ninth circle? Ain't no one in there." I directed this toward Winthrop who'd been too busy fixing vents to remember seeing Butch. I leaned up against the wall and imagined nothing but the familiar sting of whiskey on the back of my throat. I really need a drink.

"From what I've heard, Ahzrukhal got his head blown clean off by—" I stifled a laugh, snorting so loudly that the sound waves bouncing off the walls damn near knocked me down.

"Sorry," I giggled, with one hand over my mouth. I was soaring so fucking high on Jet right now. "Well then, I guess we'll head on up to Carol's since I can't get any whi..." I sniffled, as tears came pouring out my eyes. "skey. Whiskey." I don't even know why I was crying. I buckled to my knees and wrapped my arms around Dogmeat. This was my first mental breakdown since that night in Megaton when I was forced to realize how very real everything was. All the sudden, Dad leaving, Dad getting killed, and no one giving a fuck about me hit me all at once.

"Is she on that shit again?" Winthrop hissed, directing this question at Freddie who cocked an eyebrow and glanced my way. Shit. I hadn't told Freddie about my fiend for Wasteland drugs. I ran my hand over the jet inhaler in my pocket and began to dread the talk we were gonna have tonight. I might as well hit this up first, so it's not as hard.

Day Fifteen: "Noooo!" I screamed so loud it made my own blood curdle. I unloaded another clip onto the dead Albino Radscorpion in front of me.

"Stop it!" Freddie yelled, shoving my gun down. "I know it hurts, but it's dead. You're wasting ammo, babe. There's nothing you can do now. I'm sorry." I dropped the gun, and glanced hazily around the wasteland, trying to look at everything but the scorpion and its prey. Dogmeat was roughly a yard away from me, deader than I had ever seen anything before, including Dad. Tears came to my eyes as I glanced down at Dogmeat's limp body, and blinked away tears.

"Babe, I'm sorry. There's nothing we can do anymore. He's gone. Dead. I'm so sorry." Death. As if that word flipped on a switch, my knees weakened, and the tears came.

"No, not Dogmeat!" I yelled, with tears streaming down my face. I know it sounds strange, but that dog meant more to me than anything ever had; more than my mother, more than my father, more than Freddie, more than Gob. If that dog wasn't around, I would've been dead a long time ago, if it wasn't for that crazy lop-eared dog. I collapsed into Freddie's arms, crying harder than I had ever cried before. Everythin' is dyin' around me lately and it fuckin' sucks.

Day Sixteen: To anyone who can hear me, my name is Wernher. I come from a settlement to the north. I have information of great value to anyone willing to help me free my people. Please, help us. This message repeats.

"Would you turn that damn thing off? It gets more annoying by the minute!" Freddie snapped, as he turned my pip-boy radio off.

"Christ. Sorry, I wasn't paying attention." Ugh, where north? We've been walking for days and can't seem to find this guy. I feel I need to free his people, to do some good for the world.. because maybe then, bad things will stop happening to me, like Dad and Dogmeat dying an untimely death.

"Why are we trying to find this guy anyway? It's probably a trap. This fucker's probably waiting to jump us and butt-fuck us." Freddie sighed, fumbling with those nervous hands once again.

"I've already told you, Gomez. I need to do some good in my life, so life won't keep fucking me over."

Day Seventeen: "Ow, fuck!" I snarled, curling up into a ball under the bridge near Oasis. Did I really just try to commit suicide by jumping off that fucker? I saved Wernher's people, but the Pitt was the most depressing place I've ever been.

I miss Dogmeat. I miss Dad. I miss Freddie. I miss Gob. Only half of them are alive. Hopefully, anyway.. I'd hate to come back to find one of them dead, but that's just my luck. I tried to stand up, and my leg buckled beneath me. Great, it's broken.

"Hey, you alright down there?" I hazily looked around for the source of the voice. It was an old scavenger with a Brahmin. Maybe… he can help me. I sure as hell can't walk.

"No, I fell. I broke my leg. Can you help me?"

Day Eighteen: "I miss Dogmeat," I groaned, kicking a Brahmin skull. Looking back at Freddie, I got the feeling that fucker wasn't even listening.

"Yeah? Thanks for the pep talk, babe." I grinned to my sarcastic self, and turned around to face Freddie, who wasn't grinning.. or even close to it. He looked downright shitty. Not ugly, but damn. He looked depressed, or like he was gonna topple over dead in a minute.

"Babe? You alright?" I asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. I gazed into his eyes, and the look in them made my blood turn to ice.

"I.. yeah. No, I just.. I can't shake this feeling that somethin' awful's gonna happen soon." Oh. Well, shit.

"Like what?"

"I don't know. It's a sickly feeling. I just can't shake it. It's not like the dog dying.. it's worse. I just.. I don't want to lose you or anything." I almost snorted, as I stifled a laugh quickly enough that Freddie didn't even notice. Pfft, he thinks I'm gonna die? No, no.

"Oh, is that all? C'mon. I'm the scariest fuckin' thing we're gonna find out here. Ain't nothing gonna even think about fuckin' with us when I'm around."

"I know. I just can't shake it." How in the world am I supposed to convince him we're gonna be okay?"

"Did you think we were gonna be in the vault for the rest of our lives?" I asked, seemingly out of nowhere. Freddie blinked twice then looked at me stupidly.

"Babe, what does that-"

"Answer."

"I mean, yeah, obviously. Everyone thought that, though."

"Okay, since we're not in the vault, and you thought we would be, obviously you can't tell the fuckin' future, hence you don't know that something awful's about to happen. Okay?"

He smiled for a split second, then we began walking. It wasn't even fifteen minutes later when I got the eery feeling someone was following us. I heard nothing, I saw nothing, but I felt something. I tapped Freddie on the shoulder and signaled him that I thought we had a tail. We backtracked slowly. As we were coming around the corner, the feeling got stronger.

"Hey, look!" I smiled, "Cliffside Cavern!" I knew Freddie remembered the time I told him about when Dogmeat and I took on about 50 raiders. I'm not even kidding. The dog almost had to drag me back to Megaton when the fight was over. Dogmeat.

The deafening blast from a scattergun followed by a "don't reach for your weapons or I'll blow your fucking heads off" line broke us from the silent moment. Slowly, we turned around to face something that almost made me shit myself upon realization.

There was Butch DeLoria, standing with a smug look on his face and a Scoped .44 Magnum in his right hand. He wouldn't put fear in a radroach, it was the.. the thing next to him that scared the hell out of me. There was a seven foot-tall ghoul with a Combat Shotgun, and some very enforced-looking armor. This was one big motherfucker.

"I heard you been looking for Butch, girl." Butch said as a sly grin spread across his arrogant face. It irks my nerves pretty bad when he refers to himself in third person, but this probably wasn't the best time to bring it up.

"Yeah, you asshole. I have been looking for you. I saw what you did to my buddy over here, and I want to get a little revenge, ya dig?" I said with more confidence than I actually felt. This only made his grin wider. Fucking psychopath. I knew how to wipe the damn grin off.

"What are you smiling about, DeLoria? The fact that he's here with me today proves that not only are you a pussy-ass coward, but you're a pretty fuckin' lousy shot too." I wish I hadn't mouthed off. I wish I had just kept my fucking mouth shut, because what happened next shook me to my very core.

"Charon," Butch called, apparently referring to the giant scary fuck of a ghoul standing next to him. Charon.. why does that name sound familiar? Underworld! Winthrop brought him up the night after he snitched on me to Freddie about my drug use. Charon killed Ahzruhkal. That's it. "Abandon the girl." Abandon me? What the fuck, that makes no fucking- The scattergun immediately blasting off made me realize exactly what he was talking about. My neck snapped around so quickly I thought my head was gonna fall off.

Freddie was, once again, lying in a pool of his own blood in the dirt. But this time, he looked much, much deader thanks to the giant gaping shotgun whole in his chest. I immediately broke into a run toward him when Butch yelled.

"Turn around and fight us, girl, or we'll administer the final blow to him." Final blow? He's not dead. I almost had an anxiety attack as I noticed his chest moving slowly up and down. If I didn't win, at least I'd have slowed them down a little from a couple bullet holes while Freddie had a chance of getting away.
"Okay." I said, drawing my gun. "I'll fight you." Butch grinned and the shooting began. Two on one, it was so goddamn fair. I got Butch right in the ribs, he went down. I knew it wouldn't kill him, but like I told him, he was a pussy. He was rolling around on the ground writhing in pain.

The Kneecapper I lifted from Girdershade did absolutely nothing to his beasty friend though. I hit that asshole so many times I lost count. He hit me twice. Once in the right shoulder, just right of my collar bone, and the other in the thigh. I knew I was going to die. Then the ghoulie made his mistake. Standing over Butch, he unattached a grenade off his belt and reared his arm back to throw it. I acted as quickly as I could, reloading my gun and shooting the grenade in his hand. In the explosion something hit me right in the face and slid down into my lap.

As the smoke cleared, I realize what it was... DeLoria's arm. I threw it off me as quickly as I could and ran to the beasty. I could not believe this shit. He was still alive. Not enough to move anything, though. I slipped a grenade in his mouth and started Freddie's way.

The explosion in the background made me feel like a badass, and a grin spread across my face. I did it. I finally got Butch back for attempting to kill Freddie.

When I got to Freddie, I came to a screeching halt. His breathing was even shallower. I kneeled next to him and rummaged through my pack for any type of medical supplies. Tears filled my eyes as his slowly opened. His eyes were misty, glassy, and sucked of life.

"Don't you die on me, Gomez. Stay with me, alright?" I commanded almost sternly. I don't think he'll make it this time. The look in his eyes..

"...I-I-I'll m-make it. D—don'-don't you worry b-b-bout me, kid." He said as his breath faded away. I felt my heart die as the shallow breathing stopped. I screamed at the top of my lungs and wasted every medical supply I had on my dead boyfriend.

Day Nineteen: I can't really tell you exactly how I decided to help with Project Purity. In the back of my mind, though, I knew it was because every time Freddie and I talked about it he would tell me I needed to finish it. It's funny, though. He wanted to help me with it. But, I waited too long and now he's gone.

Oh, I got kidnapped by the Enclave, too. That might be worth knowing. Upon my glorious exit of Raven Rock and President Eden's death, I met up with Jericho who was lead here by Fawkes, the friendly supermutant.

Jericho. I can't really explain how he came to be traveling with me either. He just asked if I needed company while going back to help with Project Purity and I told him 'sure.' I think it's partly because I'd end up giving up in the middle of the fight if I wasn't fighting for someone else's safety rather than just my own.

I never thought I would, but while getting attacked by Enclave in Raven Rock I just gave up, and readied myself to die. If it wasn't for the robots killing the attacking Enclave I'd be dead right now.

I miss long conversations about science and computers. I miss hearing about Mom. I miss old music, I miss hearing Revelations 21:6 every night before bed, coming from someone other than myself. I miss Dad.

I miss thinking I'm out-numbered and about to meet my maker only to be saved. I miss seeing him and Freddie irritate eachother. I miss the dusty paw prints on my clothes. I miss having my life saved. I miss the lop ears. I miss Dogmeat.

I miss the comfort of another person keeping me warm at night. I miss his trembling hands. I miss the way they would stop trembling when we'd talk for a while. I miss the goofy late night talks. I miss my heart not being broken. I miss Freddie.

Day Twenty: "Don't fuckin' do this, kid." Jericho pleaded. It was almost funny. I could tell in his eyes he actually cared, but he tried to say it in a way that he thought I would think he didn't really give a fuck. He's been like a badass father to me since I lost mine.

"I have to, Jericho. It's the only way to make this work.. and this has got to work, or it's all been for nothing, man."

Jericho took a long drag off his cigarette and motioned to Sarah Lyons and snarled, "Make that bitch do it." I almost laughed. Almost.

"Will you do a favor for me?"

"Sure, kid. What the fuck do you want?" Jericho asked, not as harshly as it may sound. In turn, I threw my pack to Jericho, and he looked at it, then at me worriedly.

"My caps are in there. My weapons are in there. Food is in there. Water is in there. The deed to my house is in there. Use the caps to get Gob away from Moriarty for me. Give him the deed to my house, some food, some water, some weapons, just enough to survive. You keep everything else. I won't need it, anymore."

"Don't do this." He again pleaded, and Sarah interrupted like a bitch.

"There's no time for this. If you're gonna do it, hurry up." She hissed. But, she was right. There's no time. I stepped into the irradiated chamber, and readied myself. I punched in the code and not even three seconds later, my chest felt like it was going to explode. I was overcome with overwhelming sickness before falling to the ground. For a moment, everything went dark. I felt nothing, I saw nothing.

But then...then I was in a room with my father, Dogmeat, Freddie, and a woman who I recognized from photos to be my mother. My journey was finally over.