A/N: After finishing Fallout 3, I have decided that it leaves much to be desired. I mean, what happens to Dogmeat? Has anyone ever wondered this before? Poor Dogmeat... He's such a good boy.

Disclaimer: I don't own Fallout 3.

I do not enjoy waiting.

I am sure it is purely instinctual, as it is in my blood to occupy myself—to prepare myself for whatever hardship may lie ahead. I am a good boy though, as my master has called me on our many sinuous travels. My master met me at my worst, covered in dirt and grime, and still saw promise through his intellectual, appraising eyes. I was obliged to promise my loyalty to this human, as I was sure he was one to be trusted.

I could not of suspected a betrayal in our partnership.

I have been told on few occassions before to wait at his original home, a place he referred to as 'Vault 101' in his complicated, human language. I had recently begun to pick up on certain commands, such as when he would want me to find something for him, or when he was scolding me. I recognized the tone of his voice, more than the pattern of his words.

I am walking to Vault 101 now. There was a mix of confusion, as the humans I was told to accompany with were very jovial at my master's inability to return. I had not the sense to understand their disquieting happiness, infused with what I could identify as sadness.

Earlier, before my master had left with the strangely dressed humans, he had told me to wait at the base we were residing at without any discernible reason. I had whined, but nontheless complied to his unusual command.

My limited memory could only gather bits of his parting. I could, however, remember clearly the pure desolation in his eyes as he patted my head, knelled down and murmured in that foreign language of his, "You're such a good boy, Dogmeat. Do you know that?"

I had not the slightest idea of who was comforting who. Had he been comforting me, or was my willing presence comforting him?

I arrive at Vault 101 shortly. My tail drops slightly as I realize that Master is not there to scold me for being late. I sit down in the sandy terrain and I look towards the sky. It is getting bright, and I am reminded of dawns with my master, who would scratch behind my ears and speak to me in a language I could not understand. I am positive he knew I could not understand him, but I am also aware that this did not bother him in the slightest.

Even in my standing, I know my master is unusual, even by human standards. I am glad at this fact, too.

I look up to the brightening sky and wonder when my master will return.

Days, weeks, and possibly months pass and I am still waiting.

A female human—one who bears the strange human armor from before—visits me occasionally. She seems to pity me, and I do not understand the source of this emotion.

She has bright hair, and I am distracted by it as she tells something incoherent to me. Regardless, she pats my head and drops fresh meat of an unknown source in front of me. Instinct takes over, and I gulp the meat down in a few famished bites. I am still gnawing on the tough skin as she leaves.

More time passes.

I hunt only to feed, drink only to thrive, and wait only to live.

My master seems to be very late. Day and night begin to blur in a pattern I find very unsettling.

I wake up to another day of waiting, but I do not question it, nor have I ever. It seems like an ordinary day to me, until I hear a fearsome roar to my left.

My stance is immediately upright, and I snarl in warning. I am met only by a harsh slap to my face, claws digging into my fur. There is a large creature that I recognize as a monster my master and I fought together. It had done a range of damage on my master and I, but the strange human had used his medicine on me rather than himself.

The creature is too fast, and I am too weak with hunger, as I have forgotten to hunt again in these endless days. Teeth and claws are tearing my body, and various wounds leak blood onto the ground. I remove myself from the dusty earth and manage a severe wound to the creatures eye. It is sent running, and I am sent falling.

I briefly wonder if I can wait like this.

I look up to the sky, and it is getting dark. A short pang runs through me as I realize my time of waiting is done, and I ponder my masters betrayal with my last, wounded breath.

My consciousness slips away from me, and I am suddenly reminded of how tired I am.

There is no time to contemplate the quick and easy way I close my eyes, and I am done.

There is nothing left to wait for.