This is the very personal, based-on-a-true-story (in more ways than one) version of how on my second playthrough, I was determined to do things differently

But couldn't.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, time out. Someone steps through the gate the first time, they're a guest. You lay off that extortion crap."

"What do you care?" The thug instantly forgot about Preston and me, turning to the costumed ghoul. "She ain't one of us."

"No love for your mayor, Finn? I said let her go."

"You're soft, Hancock. You keep letting outsiders walk all over us, one day there'll be a new mayor."

They could have been dropping the bombs again in World War IV right then, and I still wouldn't have taken my eyes off the two in front of me.

"Come on, man. This is me we're talking about. Let me tell you something…" Before I even saw the knife, my blood was already pumping. Not in the kind of anticipation you might think, but in borderline arousal…

And then he stabbed him.

I was utterly turned on, but having lost my husband so recently, I was unwilling to admit it, even to myself. I had no idea who this ghoul was. In fact, I had not seen too many of them at that point that weren't feral. And there was no way he knew anything about me, but he just stabbed a guy…

For me.

And I saw the whole thing. He and I had a quick conversation after that, but I was so smitten by his actions at the front gate that I can't even recall what was said. I was just in total awe.

He was gone when I returned to reality. Shaking it off, the prewar conformist side of my brain pointed out to me how grotesque his physical appearance was, and the pragmatic side of me agreed, reminding me that the only reason Nate's body was even cold right now was because of cryogenesis.

"Uh, General?"

I forced myself to focus on the Minuteman standing beside me. "Yes?"

"We're still here to find out about your son, aren't we?"

"Yeah…yeah… Let's go."

After getting the information we came for, we stepped out of the Memory Den, and Preston started talking about plans to head to a nearby settlement.

"Preston, I promise you, I am not trying to be selfish, but I spend a great deal of time getting sidetracked from my search for Shaun helping the Minutemen out, and…what I just witnessed back there in the Memory Den was a little overwhelming. I'd really rather sit this one out. You'll forgive me, won't you?"

"It's, uh…It's not in trouble or anything. I just think it would be…safer…if we didn't spend the night in this town. It seems a little…rough."

That's putting it lightly. "Yeah, but it's rough out in the wastes, too. At least this place is protected by a mayor with the balls to get shit done."

He winced a little. "It's not that I don't see your point, but I'd really feel better about it if we stayed there. It's not necessary to stay here when there's a Minuteman settlement around the corner."

Necessary, no. But somehow appealing. "Nonsense, Preston. I'm already here. I'm going to have a few drinks and crash." Notice I said I and not we. I was giving him an out. "You can meet me back at Sanctuary."

And then he surprised me. "Okay, General. If this is where you want to stay, we'll stay here. I wouldn't feel good about leaving you here on your own."

I couldn't help feeling like that wasn't supposed to happen.

Preston and I had a few drinks at the Third Rail. I had drunk with him before in our travels, but usually it was just at our campsite. We never drank that much so we could keep our senses about us. This was the first time I think I had ever seen him drunk.

And it was the first time I had been really drunk since I left the vault. I had a lot on my mind. Nothing new. Just the usual my-husband-was-shot-in-front-of-me-by-agents-from-some-mysterious-agency and they-kidnapped-my-son-as-part-of-their-huge-scheme troubles. You know the kind. I had been successfully resisting giving in to the dark places that those woes tried to take me by focusing on tracking Shaun down and helping the Minutemen out, so there hadn't been any room for me to dwell on it, much less get shit-faced.

I think I would have fallen apart halfway into my bottle of bourbon that night if I didn't have Goodneighbor's charismatic leader on my mind as well. While Preston was pouring his heart out to me about his hopes and dreams, I couldn't help glancing around every now and then to see if the mayor was frequenting the same bar as us by chance. I never saw him, though.

I was taking another idle glance over my shoulder when Preston suddenly grabbed my hand. I whipped my head around to meet his gaze and noticed he had some extra color to his cheeks as he grinned hard enough to squint.

"Helena, I am so glad I found you. Or you found me, really. When you came along…That was one of the darkest times of my life, and I thought all hope was lost, but you showed me… You showed me there is still good left in this world and we can't give up on it. There's still hope for the Commonwealth, and thanks to you, the Minutemen may be the ones to save it. You really care about others. You're making a big difference in this world."

I gently withdrew my hand and smiled at him. "It's not just me, Preston. A lot of that is because of you. You've shown me how to be a better person."

He managed to smile even harder. "You're not just making a difference in this world, Helena." He swayed forward with all the lack of grace you get when you've hit the bottle too hard. "You're making a difference in mine."

I think I knew where he was going with that. I straightened his militia hat out for him. "Preston, dear, you are one the kindest, sweetest people I have ever met, but you have managed to surpass me in my drunkenness this evening. While I do find that in and of itself impressive, I think we should have this conversation some other time, amigo."

"Once again, General… You're right." He looked a little dejected as he leaned back in his chair with some effort, but he smiled again once he found his center of balance. "You're always right."

I returned his smile. "That's exactly what every woman wants to hear, whether or not it's true." I threw some caps down on the table and stood up, reaching for his arm. "C'mon, Casanova. Let's find you a bed so you can sleep it off, huh?"

As I half guided him, half leaned on him in my own mutual instability, we clumsily made our way through Goodneighbor's dark streets towards the Hotel Rexford. On the way, I caught a glimpse of that elusive ghoul I had been on lookout for all night. He was hanging back in the shadows, his unconventional features harshly outlined by the streetlights' glow that just barely touched him like butterfly kisses. I watched with unintentional and unsubtle scrutiny as we passed him and he took a casual hit of jet.

Acknowledging my stare, he gave me a cocky smirk. "See something you like?"

I quickly averted my eyes back to our intended path.

The next morning, I tried to rouse Preston as mildly as I could out of respect for the killer hangover he was probably suffering.

He groaned pathetically as he rolled over to face me standing over him. "General… I am so, so sorry. I had way too much to drink last night."

"Hey, don't be. You didn't do anything wrong."

He was reaching for his hat. "That's not like me…"

"I know, Preston. But even 'drunk you' was a total sweetheart, so don't sweat it, alright?"

I used our crippling hangovers as an excuse not to leave Goodneighbor right away, and since Preston was physically feeling worse than I was, he didn't put up much resistance. He followed me while I piddled around town, seeing what there was to do around there.

In recollection, all this feels redundant.

The short version: I accepted a job offer from a ghoul in town named Bobbi, and that's how I finally got facetime with Mayor John Hancock. We chatted for a while. He expressed his gratitude for the way I handled things with Bobbi and offered me some caps.

I reached for the bag of caps and tried to hide a shudder as his rough, blemished hand grazed mine.

I found the whole ghoul thing off-putting, but the fact that I was still drawn to him despite that intrigued me. After some more breeze-shooting, I found myself putting offers on the table I had not given myself permission to even think about. "Why don't you come with me?"

Preston shot me the most confounded look I had ever seen from him as Hancock replied, "Alright. I think that's just the thing I need."

"Are you sure you can just leave?" Preston blurted out. "I mean, since you're the mayor?"

"Ah, I've done it before. It keeps me honest. Let me just say a few words to my people."

As Hancock disappeared onto the State House's balcony, Preston pulled me aside, stopping me from following. "Why did you ask him to come with us?"

"I told you before. I'm really impressed with the way he jumps right in to take care of business. The Minutemen could use an alliance with someone like that. Look, he already successfully leads a whole town and has them eating out of the palm of his hand. With him on our side, we just gained an entire community worth of support."

Preston looked down at the floor, avoiding my eyes as he replied, "I don't know if having his kind of support is really all that good for the Minutemen."

"Don't be silly, Preston. Any support is good for the Minutemen. They're almost extinct. Besides, the people here aren't that bad. They're just products of their environment. That sort of gruffness is what it takes to survive in this world."

"You're the General," he replied reluctantly.

And so, the three of us took off across the Commonwealth.

That night, we took out a raider camp and settled into their set up for the night. Hancock's fighting style was different from the routine Preston and I had established, but, in perfect alignment with my expectations, he got shit done, so I wasn't really complaining.

While Preston thoughtfully offered to prepare dinner for us, I sat down at a table with our new companion and talked, the two of us getting to know each other better. I asked him why he so readily agreed to leave his town behind to come with us, and he gave me a fantastical explanation that was unflattering towards me. Surprisingly, I still found it magnetic. There was a sort of beauty in the way there was no lying in him, and I appreciated it.

After seeing me light a cigarette, he lit one of his own. "And all that stuff I said about needing to get away from Goodneighbor is true," he added. "When you showed up, it seemed like the perfect time to act on that."

He exhaled a column of smoke through the hole in the center of his face. It danced up the divots in his cheeks, clinging to the tips of his tricorn hat in thin streams before dissipating into the air. "A better question would be why did you want me to go with you so badly? Most people aren't that enthusiastic about picking up a third wheel."

"Oh, no, Preston and I –" I didn't realize that things between the Minuteman and me came off that way to outsiders. "Preston and I are just friends." I looked over my shoulder in confirmation that he was still following our conversation. "Really, really good friends."

A ball of smoke puffed out and swirled in an inward spiral on itself as he let out a sudden chuckle. "Sure, sister. Just friends. Say no more."

I knew it wouldn't do any good to follow up on his snide remark, so I let it go.

"Regardless of your current relationship status, something still ain't adding up for me. Why were you so eager about traveling with a ghoul when you so obviously are repulsed by us?"

"What?! No, I-" He had managed to fluster me within successive breathes. I couldn't help feeling like it was on purpose.

"You don't have to do that." His hand made a wide wave in time with his words, and my eyes were drawn to the glowing orange trails his cigarette drew in the dim light. "Ain't like I'm angling for anything, but I wanted you to know, you ain't very good at hiding it."

"It's not like that –"

Preston chose this moment to jump in. "Hancock, that's not very fair of you. If she really had a problem with ghouls she wouldn't have asked you to come with us in the first place." He joined us at the table, bringing with him the meal he had thrown together. "You'll see for yourself in time. She's not like that. You don't know her story, but things have been rough for her, and she doesn't deserve to be hassled."

"We've all had it rough, Preston," he remarked as he snuffed out his cigarette. "But I ain't saying that to downplay her struggle in any way." He turned to me with a strikingly sincere smile. "If you wouldn't mind telling me, I'd actually very much like to hear your story."

So I explained to him everything that happened in the vault. Nate… Shaun… "All I could do was watch. I fell back under again and when I finally escaped, they were gone – my son, the kidnappers and murderers..." I had to pause for a moment to regroup. I had been pushing those memories out of my head as hard as I could since I had left the vault, and revisiting them was making the hairs on my arms stand up.

Preston came closer to me, putting an arm over my shoulder. In that vulnerable moment, I started to get overwhelmed by the gesture, and a flood of emotions washed over me. I let out an involuntary sob, and in reaction, he put his other arm around me and held me. I could feel the tears welling up as I buried my head in his chest. I hadn't cried yet, and I wasn't going to start now. I got up from the table and excused myself, going to my designated sleeping bag with the two men looking after me in stunned silence.

They talked among themselves for a few minutes, but I couldn't hear what was being said while lying face down with the sleeping bag over my head. I was trying to beat the cry. That's not who you are, Helena. You're not going to cry.

Around the same time I was swallowing the lump in my throat once and for all, I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"Hey…" Preston's gentle voice addressed me. "I know you probably want to be left alone but…"

I turned over and pulled enough of the sleeping bag down to show my face.

"Helena." His eyes got wide when he saw me. "Are you okay?"

I forced a smile. "I'm fine. I promise."

He awkwardly motioned behind him where Hancock was still seated with his back to us, his feet propped up on the table. "If you want me to go back to the table, just say so."

"No, no, I'm glad you're here."

"Really?"

"Of course. Why would I lie about that?"

"I just…I don't want to intrude, but I'm concerned and…Well…Hancock insisted I should come check on you."

My smile was less forced now. "I'm glad you did." I sat up and gave him a hug. "I'll be fine. Don't worry so much, Preston. You're going to give yourself an ulcer." There was something so pure in his genuine concern that I no longer felt like the vulnerable one. He needed someone to care for him more than I did. "Thank you, Preston. I'm going to go to sleep for real this time, okay?" I gave him a peck on the cheek. "Everything is going to look better in the morning for all of us."

He had this shocked look on his face as he watched me tuck myself back in. I reveled in the satisfaction on how that tiny bit of affection affected him so much as I drifted to sleep. He deserved it. He was a good guy.

Our trio stuck it out for a long while, doing the Minutemen's work. We made a good team when it came to fighting it out with the villains of the wasteland. And all three of us had the same common ideas of what was fair for the people, so we were always in agreeance when it came to dealing justice. The rest of the time when we would endure just long stretches of walking between destinations, they both had different assets to bring to the downtime. Preston had all these idealistic, profound thoughts to share, while Hancock would always engage me in witty banter. I soon learned that he was kind of a slut and I enjoyed giving him shit about it.

One day, when we had returned to Sanctuary for a rest and to drop off all the loot I had been making us lug around, Preston caught me alone to talk to me. "I'm sure you don't need me to keep telling you how much it means to me that you have become so dedicated to the Minutemen."

I don't even think he realized how instinctively close he would stand when talking to me these days. I drew attention to it by fingering the edges of his duster. "You don't have to keep saying it, Preston," I said with a sly grin. "I already know."

He looked down at my busy digits and reached for them, stopping my idle fidgeting and holding our hands together between us. "I have something else to add to that, though…General," he said in a quiet, unconfident tone.

I held my breath in anticipation of his next words.

"I feel like you have been procrastinating finding Shaun."

I let the air out. That wasn't what I was expecting. "Maybe…a little…I still have some reservations about what I'm going to find when I do find him." I dropped my hands to my sides and looked past him. "I'm scared he's not going to be accepting of a stranger trying to force him into a parent-child relationship. He doesn't know me…and I don't know him. And even if he is accepting of it, what kind of life can I even give him out here?" I said, throwing my arms outward. "Killing everyday, struggling to get by, farming dirt. It's more than a little rough."

"Helena, I know this life isn't easy for anyone, especially someone who knew it when it was a bit…cleaner. But if he really is in the Institute, you have to get him back. Even if they are treating him well, the ideas they must be putting in his head can't be good for him. They are pure evil. You owe it to him to protect him from that."

I silently mulled his words over for a moment and concluded my thoughts with an exasperated sigh. "You're absolutely right." I looked back into his shimmering amber eyes. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Preston. You keep my head on straight."

"I know what you mean." He smiled. "I've got someone like that in my life, too."

The next morning, Hancock and I headed to the Glowing Sea to find Virgil. I only had one set of power armor to protect us from the deadly levels of radiation, so Preston stayed behind. Hancock, being a ghoul, had no problem sucking up all the rads you could throw at him, and Preston felt good about leaving me in his capable care. Regardless of what either one of them thought, I could take care of myself just fine, but it's not like I was adverse to the company. The wastes can be really lonely…

"So have you and the Minuteman started bangin' yet?"

"For fuck's sake, Hancock!" I looked behind me. The suburban settlement hadn't even disappeared from the horizon yet. "No! I don't have time to be romantically involved with anyone."

"Don't have time or won't have time? Because you're pretty uptight. I think getting laid would do you some good."

Without warning, I tossed the power armor helmet at him and he caught it with ease. "Not all of us have to be whoring around all the time to be happy," I retorted as I shakily lit a cigarette. I didn't want to admit he had kinda struck a chord with me.

"Are you happy?"

"Mostly. As much as I can be, anyway. That's all anyone can do."

He thumped a couple mentats into his mouth with his free hand. "I think you should just jump his bones, already."

"Jesus! Who even asked you?"

"All I'm saying is if you need me to give you guys more 'alone time,' just say the word. I ain't about to stand in the way of true love."

I took a deep drag and sighed out the smoke. "Why are you so intent on breaking my balls?"

"Fun. You do it to me all the time."

"What do you know about true love, anyway?"

I caught a glimpse of his smirk in my peripheral. "More than you'd think."