August 7th, 2277. That's when he left the vault. Though vault 101 didn't hold the title as the vault in his mind anymore. He'd said something about other vaults; 108, 106, 112… but none of those where numbers. I always knew them as positive things: the number of safe harbors vault-tec made before the bombs dropped. According to him, however, they weren't that at all. They were experiments.

Even my own.

That hit me hard, and, like the ignorant young woman that I was, I refused to believe him. The files that he left open though proved me wrong. I remember standing frozen for a minute or so, before Susie entered into the room. He was right. I was wrong. And I'd just forced him out of the vault - just like my father. The more responsibilities as overseer I took, the more I realised he'd dealt with.

The harassment from the vault security force didn't come for his behavior - though that hardly helped, always questioning my father - no. I it came because he came from outside the vault. His father had been let in shortly after he'd been born, and only because the vault needed a doctor. The bullying, harassment, and him being ignored by most female residents of the vault had been orchestrated by my father.

James had helped the vault, yet at the same time his son was routinely pushed around because my father had tried to quell the pair. My father knew that what he could do wouldn't work on James… so his complacent, by-the-book son had been targeted. In retrospect, his quietness as a child and teen were because of this. If anything, I knew he had reason to kill my father - didn't mean I had to like it.

I remember it clear as day: hearing the vault door begin to shut I had raced to my father's office to find him sprawled across the floor with a hole drilled directly between his eyes. Staring at the body, I felt myself begin to collapse. Susie walked in. She didn't have any words.

At least he'd made it painless.

It was later found by Stanley that the round inside my father's skull was a 10mm round. I never confirmed this - probably never will - but I suspect it came from the very handgun I'd given him a year ago. He'd taken to calling the weapon Catherine, after his mother. I only knew her name was Catherine because I'd picked the lock to the bible quote in James and his son's room. It had 500 nuka-cola bottle caps in it (I learned later that those were currency outside the vault) and a holotape.

I'd listened to it. I felt guilt after I'd listened all the way through. Guilt because of the fact that how he would never hear that tape. Guilt for the fact that even when he saved me, I shouted him off. I still remember it:

I was making my way to a settlement called grayditch when a group of people, I counted five, approached me. One of them, an officer I guessed based on how he was wearing a uniform and cap. He asked me if I came from vault 101.

I said yes.

Then he asked if my pip-boy was working.

I said yes.

Then he asked if I could give the location of vault 101. And guess what happened next?

His head exploded. Literally. I heard a loud bang! From behind me and then his head exploded into tiny giblets. Gray matter was everywhere. I shrieked like a banshee as one of the officer's subordinates went to grab me. A moment after he did, one of his comrades got a shot between a gap in his armor. Moments later he screamed - somehow - even louder than me. One of his friends tried to help, but they got a bullet through the soft, neural suit that made their power armor operational.

So, in approximately five seconds, two people were dead, one was dying from armor failure, someone had grabbed me and set a laser pistol to my head, and the remaining soldier had simply dropped his weapon, shouting:

"It's him! It's him!" I didn't know who 'him' was at the time, but I was terrified. That terror and my blood pressure went through the roof when the soldier that was trying to flee was sent flying five feet by another bang! And hit the ground with a thump and simultaneous crack as I'm sure something that shouldn't've snapped.

The soldier whose power armor was killing him stuttered out a final, grotesque gasp before they went still. I felt the filtered breath of my captor against the back of my neck gain speed as their laser pistol dug more uncomfortably into my neck.

My eyes flicked about, searching for whatever had killed the soldiers. They found nothing. Absolutely nothing. So they had been invisible. Great. A second after that thought came to me, I heard another bang! And my captor's head exploded.

Of course I only knew that when felt some sickly-smooth substance on the back of my neck. Immediately I slipped out from under the arm that had held me and saw, to my complete shock, someone materialize right in front of me.

I shrieked again.

They looked like a very well-equipped mercenary: a breathing mask of some sort covered their jaw and a significant portion of their nose while a pair of goggles covered their eyes; a bandolier of magazines went diagonally down their right shoulder along numerous smaller pouches that were attached to a belt around their waist. They wore a set of khaki-colored pre-war combat armor. They had a hood, too. Overall, I figured if the grim reaper were to achieve some form, it would've been that.

They used their hands to lower their breathing mask so it hung lazily downward and lifted their goggles. I realised they were pale a hell, too. They lowered their hood next, but I was more focused on their eyes: one was a dull, common brown while the other was a startling emerald green. They had a strange look to them, like how clouds blocked the sun - you couldn't get much from them.

When I tore myself away from their gaze I saw they had a pip-boy on their left arm. Their hair was also a muddy brown. I stared at them.

"'Mata…" I nearly went into shock when they used that nickname. Actually, scratch that; I was in shock at that moment.

"How do you know my name?!" I demanded, straightening myself. They stared back at me sadly before responding.

"It's me, 'Mata - Adam." Oh, there goes my self-control. Moving faster than I'd ever before, I rushed up to them and raised my right hand. Just as it was about to strike his right cheek, Adam caught my wrist and twisted. I gasped at the uncomfortable angle my wrist was in and attempted to withdraw it from Adam's grip. He let go.

Directly after he let go, I slapped him. As hard as I could manage.

The sharp smack! As my hand shattered what remained of our friendship, Adam staggered back. I heard a concerned bark and an even more concerned voice from a distance away, but I didn't care.

I glared at him. Adam steadied himself, and I raised my right arm again only to freeze when Adam spoke.

"I suppose I deserved that," he said. Supposed? I felt anger again.

"You 'suppose' you deserved that?" I snarled, taking a step forward. "There's no 'suppose' about it - you did, you bastard. You killed my father. Killed him when you could have spared him. Killed him when I felt our friendship might've recovered. When we might've… been something. You're a murderer. My father was right: you do belong out here." I continued to glare for a few moments before what I'd said and done hit me. The anger faded. I didn't say anything - what could've I said?

Adam used his fingers to brush sand off the shoulder pads of his armor. He didn't say anything as he raised his breathing mask back to his mouth. He settled the goggles back over his eyes. He raised his hood and turned away from me as two figures came into my vision: one was a silver-haired dog whose eyes bored into me with hatred. The other…

The other was a woman.

I honestly don't understand what about her irked me so much. Maybe it was her armor; the dirt across some of her clothes and face; or the fact that she looked far and aways more capable than me.

But something did. Something inside me just didn't like her at all. This part screamed when she put a hand on Adam's shoulder and talked to him. I got the feeling they were close. Too close for some parts of me, apparently.

I don't remember what she said, I just remember glaring at her when she walked off at Adam's side. They were a polite distance from each other, so it shouldn't've been a problem. I shouldn't have, but it was. I lightly dug my nails into my palms and set a map-marker for Megaton.

Fuck, I still regret what I did that day. My best friend saves me, and then I berate and slap him? I know Adam's dealt with worse - even then I knew. I just… lost it. Susie's reaction didn't help, either. When I told her what happened she seemed disappointed. I was disappointed with myself, honestly. I still am.

AN: I hope you enjoyed that. Any reviews would be greatly appreciated.