Okay, I'm taking a leap of faith here. This is my first fanfic I've posted. In my opinion, my writing was shoddy. Constructive criticism is expected, but not required. I just figured I'd finally post a fanfic rather than letting it rot on my hard drive.

This is based upon (one of) my playthroughs of Fallout 3. It was spawned from me just finishing said-playthrough with my female MC and listening to some choice music.

A small note: The ending is influenced by the Broken Steel add-on.

Who can say if I've been changed for the better? But because I knew you, I have been changed for good. - For Good, Kristin Chenoweth; Idina Menzel.

There are those who touch our lives, mold us and change us, whether they realize it or not. I knew of one such person.

Scathing words against my ears were thought a curse in my younger days, sometimes reducing me to tears when I didn't have to pretend in front of anyone. Nobody likes a bully, least of all a bully who is one of the few inhabitants of your home, whom you would want to get along with more than anything else in the world (from what limited space this 'world' was.) And when your home is compromised of only three levels, well…sooner or later your hiding places are going to be all used up. This, unfortunately, was my case.

I didn't like being picked on, nor did I like violence, but I certainly didn't like sitting by and letting myself be pushed around. This is what deepened an otherwise 2-D relationship. If I didn't fight back some times, and then try to be friendly other times, things would have remained as tormentor and tormentee. The lion and the lamb.

When my father left, the world around me began to move in an entirely different direction. I could have stayed, I could have remained and lived with everyone else in Vault 101, blissfully ignorant…as blissful as living in a giant, rusty tin can could be. But I left, in search of my father, and in search of answers. I left behind my experiences, and the results of my choices. Some died, and some were spared, both due to my part, and the world's own motion.

Out in the Wastes, I learned what real fear was. The sunlight burned my eyes and the wide-open spaces gave me a surreal sense of agoraphobia, if only for a moment. I suddenly knew the taste of air that wasn't sterilized, but instead with the threat of contamination. I knew water that was steeped with radiation, skeletal ruins of once great towns and cities lining the horizon as the sun rose and bathed the wastes in red. Red was what stained my hands the first time I killed. I already had a few drops on my palms when I left Vault 101. It hurt to know that it was from people I'd known as I grew.

When I stumbled into Megaton, I knew I looked a sight. I was dusty from diving out into the sunlight to evade the gunfire that persistently followed me, even as the Vault's door closed. There was blood staining my jumpsuit, and I had the look of the hunted. I was no mere wanderer, it was plain to see. But many people could see me as more than I ever thought possible.

As I traveled, I made human mistakes, human judgments. I gave into basic instinct at times. I stole when I needed money, and I lied when I couldn't bear to do tasks I deemed impossible. But I remained determined to not fall deep into the ways of 'evil', however figurative and label-worthy the word is.

After leading a team of scientists through the dank tunnels below the Jefferson Memorial, I was immediately tasked with finding Vault 87. But I felt no desire to go immediately. My only family was dead. I was alone. Alone in the Capital Wasteland.

I don't recall how long I walked. My feet lead the way, while my mind only grasped at the strands of memories that seemed to be leaving me so quickly. I sank to me knees before the wooden gate of the Vault, and cried for the first time in a long time. I hadn't allowed myself to cry since in was twelve; I had to be strong so father wouldn't worry about me, and so he would know I wasn't bothered by his taunting. The dust-choked ground hungrily devoured my tears as they fell, and the radio just barely made it over my sobs. I needed a voice, even if it was only over a radio, and even if it wasn't talking to me alone.

Then I heard her. I heard her cry for help. A plea, her voice reaching out to me and me alone. There was a voice speaking to me. All I had to do was open the gate.

I ran head-on into my past when I entered Vault 101 again. My friend, who asked me for help, and my…nemesis? I was unsure what to call him. Considering he didn't seem to want to tease me on that fateful night, I remained confused.

I walked the halls that I'd spent nineteen years of my life within, reliving memories, all for the sake of letting the remaining vault dwellers to be able to come and go. Even after that, I was still told to leave. I only say I was 'told' so as to spare my own feelings. It was the order of the new Overseer, my own childhood friend.

I can't remember why I went back to Rivet City. I was supposed to be going to Lamplight Caverns. Maybe I was confused, and my feet were once again leading the way without my willing them forth. Since coming to the Wastes, I found myself becoming more and more lucid, transient in my movements.

The loss of my father gave me a perspective on life I'd never had before. I never knew my mother, so in a sense, I had no reason to miss her. You can't miss someone you don't know. At least…that's what I think. Perhaps that was why I was in the Muddy Rudder, sitting amongst the dim lights, the sounds of hushed conversation through the few patrons within. I stared at the whiskey in front of me, not having the faintest idea why I'd ordered it, considering I never drank, and never planned on doing so. It must have been the atmosphere; it just urged you to get a drink, even if you didn't feel like having one. I was sorrowful, yes, but I didn't want to drown them with alcohol; they'd only come back when I woke up later with a terrible hangover, and no doubt two times as worse.

I never did drink it, though I did have the strange thought of lighting a match and dropping it in the glass. Maybe I was developing pyromatic tendencies. Maybe the Wasteland really was getting to me. I really wasn't the person I used to be, so if that was the case, I wouldn't be surprised. I hadn't expected to come through this my mostly-pacifist self.

I had many surprises in the Wastes. It was impossible not to be surprised when you wandered a desolate plain. But the biggest surprise was when I heard a familiar voice nearby.

Perhaps I'd always known we'd meet again. Or maybe it was just a wish I'd made with all of my selfish little heart. I was alone in the Wastes, having been banned from the only home I'd ever known. Being outside was nothing. Having freedom was nothing. It was all nothing when you had no one you knew to share it with. Even my most hated enemy would be better. But he wasn't a hated person to me. He was merely a tormentor from my younger days. I'd never hated him, despite the teasing and the names I was called. I knew it was all about appearance; sticking together in the Vault to shield yourself from the fact that you'd never see anything beyond those gray, echoing halls. But I saw things. I'd seen many. I left my home and pursued the only family I had in this world.

And for what cost? His life. He died to protect me, to protect the secret of Project Purity. But I'd rather have contaminated water than lose my family. Radiation was a better if it meant not watching a loved one die. But I had no such luck. I watched him slip away from me, hand pressed to the glass of the door, eyes watching me with so much love and caring as tears stung the corners of my eyes.

So many long days and nights to find him, and now we had only been together for mere days. A piece of me was lost in a dark void when my father was taken from me. I could only pray that death welcomed him in warm, loving arms and not cold chains. My father had suffered enough in life; his afterlife deserved to be sweet and comforting. He could see my mother again…if there really was such a thing as heaven. I prayed that there was.

But to see a familiar face in the belly of an old carrier…it wasn't expected. But I didn't care, whether he'd been wished to me or appeared by chance. To see a familiar face…I would have wept if I hadn't been exhausted of all my tears.

He was grateful to me for allowing the chance to leave the Vault. Gratefulness was the least expected thing. But I accepted it with much pride, at this point wanting any sort of praise I could get, no matter how desperate and needy it seemed. I had no father to praise me for my small and insignificant accomplishments anymore. I would accept it, even if it was from him.

I asked him to come with me. I have no idea what possessed me to do so. But to my surprise, he did accept. My band had since grown to three, a canine named Dogmeat having joined my ranks when I chanced upon him in a junkyard. My nights were no longer solitary; though it was the Wastes, it felt more like home. My joy was profound, I was given life in my lifeless existence. It was a depressing thought, but at that point, I was willing to believe it was true. I was willing to believe…even if it meant lying to myself.

My battles were far less exhausting, and the laughter I experienced after a particularly close call, the cheering and congratulations when we caused destruction amongst the enemy's ranks…My fight seemed more hopeful.

…But my happiness was cut short. My trek through Vault 87 wielded results, and thanks to an intelligent Super Mutant by the name of Fawkes, I obtained a G.E.C.K. We were ambushed shortly after Fawkes parted ways with us. I was forced into unconsciousness, the last vestiges of my awareness filled with Dogmeat's whining, and the sounds of him telling me to get up.

I woke in a cell. Eden wanted to speak with me, despite Colonel Autumn's protests. He betrayed Eden's orders, sending the whole of the Enclave to stop me. But I was driven for answers, and I burst through their ranks. He was foolish to allow me to reclaim my things. Donned in the armor of the fallen soldiers, I met with Eden. He was merely a computer, having grown into sentience and gaining power over the east coast of the United States.

I was given a virus--the EV Virus, which I was told to place within Project Purity. It would kill everything that held any form of mutation upon ingestion of the water. I would be destroyed. I was contaminated by radiation, just like everyone in the world. The entire world would die. I had to take it, and Eden let me leave.

The Brotherhood wanted my help in assaulting the Memorial. We were to take back the Project, to make it a reality in the way we wanted it to be…how it was meant to be. My father's words, his love and his faith in the project drove me forward. I would do it for him. For my mother. For humanity…for myself and my companions.

The wait before our assault was nerve wracking. I paced the facility, repeatedly checking my armor and weapons, trying to distract myself with conversation with anyone who would listen. But they were all preparing for the attack. No one would give me solace. I was alone, yet surrounded by people.

It was when he came to me. We talked for a long time, about our childhood, the Vault, the past. Anything to keep away from the present. But he assured me, in his own cocky, devil-may-care way, that we would be fine. The words were a heaven send to my fragile mind.

I was given a simple switchblade. But it warmed my heart like nothing before. Perhaps it was a sign that we were finally friends. Or maybe it was a symbol of our already-existing friendship that I wasn't aware of. But I accepted it.

And then it was time.

Liberty Prime paved the way to our goal. We pushed forward, diving deeper into the fray. And then we were upon the facility, traveling pathways I had traversed before…with my father. His love within me, his hope, his joy and his life…I entered the atrium. Colonel Autumn was the victim of my rage, repeatedly shot and stabbed by my newly-acquired knife, the anger coursing through my veins and hellfire in my eyes.

But the violence had caused damage to the system. It had to be activated before it went critical. It was me or Lyons. One of us would have to enter the deadly chamber to activate the machine. To restore hope in the world. To possibly save humanity…or at least give it a future.

Dogmeat whined by my side. My arms were around him, stroking his ears and giving my praise for his help on my travels. He was a good dog. Man's best friend to the end. I turned to him. Over the course of our travels, he had become my friend. More than a companion. Perhaps my world? A new anchor? I didn't know.

I'm not sure how it happened, or what mindset I was in to think it was okay. But when I was next coherent, we were in a liplock, me trying to steal the breath from his lungs, burying myself deeper in an escape from reality. The response, though still tasting of shock, was all I could have wished for at that moment. My first and most likely my last kiss. It was something I didn't regret. I may have mouthed 'I love you'. I'm not sure. All I know is that I was desperate, and with a heavy heart.

With a single smile in the direction of my friends, I did enter the chamber. I was immediately assaulted by the repressing air. The heaviness and pain of the radiation beat against me, trying to force me down beneath its weight. I pressed onward.

"I am Alpha and Omega…" I pushed toward the console, body heavy. "…the beginning and the end." My hands reached out to the console. I was forced to lean heavily against it. "I will give unto him…" My fingers shakily punched in the numbers, breath coming heavily through clenched teeth to try to filter the air uselessly. The machine began to hum. The process had begun. "…that is athirst of the fountain of the waters of life, freely." My lungs burned, muscles straining to stay standing. I thought I could see a blurry figure before my eyes in the window to the tank. My father? Was I hallucinating? Or was it merely my imagination?

As I fell to my knees, I tried in vain to stand. I couldn't die…I'd known I would the minute I walked into that chamber. But now I didn't want to. No! I didn't want to die!

I fell backwards, my momentum turning me to face the door. I smiled weakly. Tears rolled down my cheeks. I'd thought they were exhausted, but I was wrong. My hand strained, shivers of agony coursing through me. I reached out, my fingers trying to grasp at the blurred figures in my slowly-fading vision. Had I seen Lyons saluting me? Was Dogmeat pressing his nose against the glass, barking and scratching at the door? …Did I see my smile returned by him before my vision faded to black?

I was ready for death. It was a futile thing to fight, though it tried with all my might. I was ready…

…But I woke up again. At first, I thought I was dead. But heaven (or hell) shouldn't have looked like a clinic. Elder Lyons greeted me. Sarah and I had passed out. We survived. I survived. I survived and intense amount radiation. He briefed me on what happened, and told me to speak to Rothchild.

Water flowed clear. The purifier had worked. My father's plans, his research, his life's work…it had saved the Wasteland. Through me, my father saved us all.

When I was alone, my eyes strayed to a small table beside the bed I'd been lying in. The switchblade was there. My smile was soft, and I held it delicately. It was then that I noticed I was no longer alone in the room.

I cried. But this time it was with happiness. My tears had always been bitter, but today…today they were full of joy. The promise of a future.

And there you have it. My first fanfiction written all in one sitting, so I don't expect it to be any good. ^^;

Also, the quote at the beginning (and the story's title) is from the song "For Good" in the play "Wicked". I didn't feel like naming which character mine kept referring to. Let's see if you can figure out who it is. It's quite obvious in my opinion.

Reviews welcome.