A/N:
Hey! I know I haven't posted anything for AGES, and that I know I've only got the first chapter of another Fallout story I'm working on up too, but I promise that after the next few weeks, I'll be more consistent, as I've got ten weeks of summer break this year and nothing to fill them with.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy
-
[Capital Wasteland, 1:53am.]
I sit and stare at a pile of rocks in front of me, wind blowing through my hair, chilling me. I wrap my black coat tighter around me, and shiver. Stars glitter icily out of a pitch black sky, and a half-moon dusts everything slightly silver. In the darkness, I can just about make out the floodlights above the rock pile, broken and rusted where they sit, the last time they were used being two hundred years ago. These old lights are one of two markers left of what this place used to be. The other marker is the uncomfortably hard concrete slope I'm sat on the top of.
This is all that remains of my home, the place I grew up in.
During the first few weeks since this place was blown to pieces, I used to look for weak cracks in the rock pile. Places where, if placed in just the right way, I could tuck a mini nuke into the gap and blast these rocks out of the way, and get back in through the front door again. I soon gave up after realizing that, even if I did achieve that, all that would be left for me are rads and deep, unending darkness. After that fun realization, I spent my time here crying, raging, even plotting revenge. Now I just sit in front of the old entrance, silent and still as the stone in front of me, wrapped in an air of sadness, lost dreams, nostalgia, even regret.
I stand, and dust myself off, before picking up my bag and giving the entrance one last look, a look to say goodbye. There's nothing left for me here anymore, and it's been a month. I need to let go, move on.
And with these thoughts, I turn away and leave Raven Rock behind for good, without looking back.
It feels like I'm leaving part of myself behind.
[Rivet City, Muddy Rudder, 8:00am.]
I scan my eyes over the map on the Pip-Pad in front of me, planning my next move even though I have nowhere to go, nobody to try and contact. A week ago, both the relay station and the mobile crawler at Adam's Air Force Base were taken by the damned Brotherhood of Steel. They just can't seem to leave us alone.
It dawns on me that I have no safe place to go, at least not here in D.C. The only lead I have is a possible group out in Chicago, but it's so extremely tenuous that it's not enough for me to validate trekking out to Illinois alone. Besides, all I'd probably meet there is disappointment anyway.
I sigh, and tuck the Pip-Pad back into my bag and, taking a sip of the Nuka Cola in front of me, glance around the bar I'm sat in, tucked away in the corner alone. I see a man with black hair, wearing a leather jacket with a picture of a snake curled on the back of it over a blue vault suit, and resentment stirs deep within me as I'm reminded of seeing that outfit on someone else. I look away.
I swear, if I ever see that girl known as the Lone Wanderer again, I'm going to make sure she gets the bullet with her name on it for all the hell she and the Brotherhood have caused me. The Brotherhood…well, they'll get their own one day.
I sigh, finish my drink and stand. I have no plans, and everything is a mess, but one thing is clear.
I need to get out of here.