BOSTON COMMONS, COMMONWEALTH. JULY 13, 2277.

It all started on the day she met Valentine.

It was definitely not how she had thought her day would turn out. Alone, scrambling through the streets of the Boston Commons with her backpack bouncing on her back and her choppy bangs clumping near her eyes with a fierce determination pumping through her heart.

Upon entering the gates of Diamond City, she ran into the city, marveled at how big it was. Goodneighbor was so small compared to Diamond City, and with much more people that all looked the same.

She figured out where the detective was from a kind pastor who was nice enough to point her in the right direction.

She arrived at Valentine's Detective Agency without another hiccup. Walking past the neon glowing sign, she opened the door inside the building and found the office empty. She panicked, looking around the room for signs that the detective was there recently. She looked at the desk: Bingo. A lit cigarette.

"Hello?" She called, her voice echoing in the cluttered office. She hugged her arms around her. "Is anybody here?"

She heard a noise from the second floor, and soon footsteps coming down the stairs. She tried to stand a bit taller, lifting her chin in the air, puffing her chest out. She was quite short for a ten-year-old, only standing at 4'7". When she met this detective, she wanted to look older. More capable.

"Office doesn't open for another hour," she heard a man's voice from the hallway. She put her hands on her hips, arching her back. "Are you Nick Valentine?" she asked, lowering her voice several octaves. It almost did nothing to hide her squeakish-ly small voice.

The detective walked into the room, taking a seat at his desk. The girl's jaw dropped. Whatever was in front of her wasn't anything like she'd seen in Goodneighbor - Not a ghoul, not a drifter, definitely not human. When people think of a "private detective" they probably conjure up an image of a sort of Humphrey Bogart character, surrounding by a thick cloud of cigarette smoke, a low soulful song in the background and a femme fatale at their side. What Ellie got was… different for lack of a better word. With fluorescent glowing yellow eyes a metal face ripped near his jaw and again near his neck, she figured he must've been a synth.

She gulped, trying to keep her emotions still. The synth's eyes looked sad for a minute, examining the child in front of him. "I am. Question is, kiddo, who are you?"

She pressed her hands together, walking up to his desk. "Ellie Perkins," she said. Her voice wavered slightly, she shot up her right hand to shake. Nick showed her his hand - if you could call it that - Completely barred of plastic or metal, simply a metal skeleton. "Whoa-ho, nice arm." She said, shaking it. A bit of her fear died down, because she realized that she hadn't seen anything like him before; And that was cool. "I need your help."

Nick invited her to sit down, keeping in mind how young she looked- She was a small sunburned girl who's babydoll dress seemed to eat her alive. Her hands were kept inside fingerless gloves, not doubt made from old socks. He asked her if she'd like something to drink. She replied, "No time."

"No time? Why not?"

Ellie burst into conversation, going wild, "It's my mom! She was taken, I need to get her back-"

Nick held up his hands, "Alright, alright. Don't worry… Ellie, was it? Let me write this down… Now, can you tell me what happened?"

Ellie wasted no time, talking about everything that happened, using huge arm gestures to make her story more vivid. She told him about how her mom had some unpaid debts to the Triggermen, the gang running Goodneighbor. She told him about how she was behind with her month's payment, and how the Triggermen took her when she wasn't home.

"Why weren't you home?" Nick asked, looking up from his clipboard.

Ellie's cheeks flushed pink. "I was… Does it matter?"

"Could be important to the case," Nick pointed out. "Why?"

Ellie sighed, leaning back in her chair. "I was just… Goofing off. Like playing on the walls to see the pre-war buildings. My mom doesn't let me, but no one was around…"

Nick nodded, "so how do you know it was the Triggermen?"

"I told you," she said. "She had debts. I don't know what that really means, but I think it means money… And all the furniture was thrown around…" She sighed, rubbing her shoulders, "I think she's in lots of trouble. Like, lots of it."

Nick pursed his lips and held her gaze, "Where's your father? Why isn't he helping you?"

Ellie folded her arms, "He's gone. I'm all she's got."

Nick frowned, his sympathy for the girl leaving a sinking feeling in his gut, "So how'd you figure out about me?"

"There's this woman who's been working in the shops for forever. Her name is Daisy. She said you're the only one who looks into missing person cases." She bit her lip, "You're all I knew about."

Nick tapped his pen on the desk, "Alright, then. I think that's all I need for now," he stood up, grabbing his trench coat on his desk, "I'll head to Goodneighbor to look around. You'll stay in Diamond City until I come back with something solid."

Ellie stood up from her chair, "Bullshit, I'm coming with you!"

Nick was taken aback by the girl's language, but he decided against his better judgement it wasn't her place to scold her. "Sorry, kid. Detective work."

"But… You need a sidekick!" Ellie said, blocking the door. "And it just so happens I'm great one."

"I work alone, I don't need a sidekick."

"Oh come on!" Ellie said, waving him off. "Everyone needs a sidekick. Even Grognak had one."

"I can't have some kid following me around all day," Nick said rolling his eyes. "You'd slow down the case, besides, it'd be safer to stay here until I'm back."

Ellie's cheeks turned red, "I'm not a kid." She said, "and you can't stop me. Besides, where you gonna know to look for clues without me? I know Goodneighbor like the back of my hand, I was born there."

Nick sighed, pinching his eyes shut. "I'm not going to convince you otherwise, am I?"

"Uh, nope," Ellie said, opening the door, she waved her hand out. "Shall we?"

Nick adjusted his fedora and walked out. Ellie followed suite, always a few steps behind as her legs were much smaller.

She grinned from ear-to-ear as they stepped out of the gates, walking through the Boston Commons, "Aw yeah, let's go be detectives." Ellie said, bobbing her head with excitement.

Nick smirked and shook his head, "So let's talk more about your parents, their relationship with the Triggermen."

"You mean my mom's relationship with the Triggermen," Ellie reminded him, jumping up onto a bench, holding her arms out to steady herself, and jumping off.

"Right," Nick said. "What's the story with your father? Why isn't he here?"

"Aw man, do I gotta do the whole backstory thingy? Kind of a downer, ya know?"

"Just tell me."

She paused, "There's not much to tell." Ellie said, clearing her throat. "He was a Minuteman, but he died protecting this settlement we were staying at before me and my mom moved to Goodneighbor. He was a hero," she said sadly, playing with the straps on her backpack.

Nick nodded, keeping a mental note to remember that. "And your mother? Why does she have debts to the Triggermen?"

"Well, she always did. " Ellie explained. "Our house is owned by the Triggerman. I guess she was just late with her rent. So they took her. I don't know."

"So your mother has always owed the Triggermen some kind of money, but only recently they've decided to act on it?" Nick says slowly, like he's trying to piece together a puzzle. Problem was, there wasn't enough pieces. "Because she was late with, what, rent?"

Ellie shrugged again, "I dunno. She didn't like like talking about money with me. With anyone."

"Anyone?" Nick raised a synthetic eyebrow.

"Well, she didn't have many friends. But who does nowadays, right?"

"Right," Nick said slowly. "Listen, when we get to Goodneighbor, I'd like you to show me your house, I want to start our investigation there."

"Good idea, gumshoe."

Nick stopped, "Gumshoe?"

"Yeah," Ellie said. "Well, I dunno. You're a detective, aren't you?"

Nick shook his head, walking ahead. "Alright. Gumshoe." He said, testing the word in his mouth. "So you've been traveling to Diamond City by yourself? Isn't that a little dangerous for an eight-year-old?"

Ellie scoffed, "It's not like anyone in Goodneighbor was gonna help me, and I'm ten. Not that that has anything to do with anything."

Nick chuckled quietly, "Kind of short for a ten-year-old, huh?"

"Haha." Ellie mimicked. "Fuck you, too."

Nick was taken aback, he'd never heard a child swear like that before. "Whoa, your mother teach you to talk like that?"

Ellie kicked a stray can on the ground, "Pssh, you act like you've never sworn."

"Not when I was ten," Nick scolded.

Ellie eyeballed him, looking him up and down, "You were ten once?"

Nick opened his mouth but shut it quickly. "Just watch your language, kid. Let's get to Goodneighbor."

"Aye-aye, gumshoe," Ellie said, bobbing her head.

This is going to be a long case, Nick thought absently. He wanted to help, but he didn't sign up for babysitting.

They arrived in Goodneighbor later that afternoon. Nick hadn't been to Goodneighbor for a long time. He hadn't reason to, but he had helped a fair share of it's residents over his years. Anyone really willing to make the trip to Diamond City was worth the time, he figured. Nick was beginning to resent that thought when Ellie started whistling halfway through the trip.

He ignored it as best as he could as they stepped through the gates of Goodneighbor together. It hadn't changed much since he had last seen it, garbage strewn and the slight scent of urine hanging in the air. He looked at Ellie cautiously, a slight tug in his chest forming as he observed where she was spending her childhood. Perdition, it seemed. He almost didn't want to know as he asked, "Where's your home, Ellie?"

Ellie nodded over to the alleys behind the warehouses, "Over there," her voice became uncharacteristically quiet.

"What's wrong?"

Ellie scrunched up her face, looking up at him. "Nothing," she said, heading into the square. Nick followed suit, always sure to be checking over his shoulder. They moved into the maze of alleys. The air was warm in the July heat, with the warm breeze funneling between warehouses picking up whirlwinds of garbage from the gutters. Ellie took a left, and headed into the next alleyway, but somebody was already standing there. It was a boy, gangly and tall, and thinner than a railroad track. He was leaned up against the side of the building, playing with a butterfly knife. Ellie groaned in annoyance, rolling her eyes. Nick's hand was already pressed against his back, feeling the revolver under his trench coat.

"Do you know this guy?" Nick whispered.

Ellie scoffed, "I'm not afraid of him," she said, continuing to walk.

The boy noticed them and walked to the center of the alleyway, only a couple feet away. "Hey, hey you can't walk here!" They boy yelled, pointing his butterfly knife at her.

Ellie blinked, "Oh my gosh, I can't walk here?" She said dumbfounded. She stomped her feet down. "Well, whoop-de-fucking-doo, I'm walking here, it's a miracle!"

"Shut up, bitch." Fred said, folding his arms.

"Hey," Nick said, stepping in front of her. Ellie waved him off, continuing to taunt him. "But you said I couldn't but I'm doing it!" She gasped, now doing a watered down version of the Charleston between Nick and Fred. "Guess that means-"

"Ellie," Nick said, putting his hand on her shoulder. He just wanted her away from the boy, so he said, "The case."

She stopped and looked at Nick. "Right." She said, then turning back to the boy, "See you later!" She waved, walking right past him, Nick following her. The boy would have made some nasty retort back, but while they were walking away, Nick lifted his trench coat just enough for the boy to see his revolver. When the were out of earshot, Nick said, "Ellie! That boy was twice your size!"

"More like twice a bitch."

"Language," Nick corrected her. "Who was he?"

"Who, Fred Allen? He's just another acne-covered junkie," Ellie waved him off. "Mark my words, when he grows up all he's gonna be doing in peddling chems."

"You seem sure of that," Nick sighed, rubbing his forefinger and his thumb on the bridge of his nose. "Didn't your mom tell you pick and choose your fights more carefully?"

"Well it's something you're going to have to remind her to do when we find her," Ellie said. She turned away from him and nodded to the end of the alley. "This is it."

Nick looked up. To call it a house was sugarcoating it. It was just a metal shack connected to the end of a warehouse. He followed Ellie inside, and found it like how she described it. Furniture all turned around; The couches and the coffee table flipped over, their small kitchen raided, the bed on it's side. Nick furrowed his brow, something was off.

Ellie stayed at the door as Nick headed inside. "I didn't disturb anything when I found it like this. I went and got you immediately. You know, to not mess with the crime scene. Like if you were going to do some pre-war stuff - Like fingerprints or something." Ellie saw it once in a Manta Man comic, the police fingerprinted for bad guys and that's how the caught the bad guy. Well, Manta Man caught the bad guy, but the police kind of helped. Ellie liked talking about pre-war stuff. It made her feel smart, made her feel cultured.

"Fingerprints?" Nick almost laughed. He hadn't heard someone talk about fingerprinting in a long, long time. He knew about that practice better than anyone. But now, the practice was as dead as American law. "No, we probably won't be doing that."

"Oh,"she said cooly. She shifted in her place, rubbing her shoulders. "So, what should I do?"

Nick entered the living room, turning over a couch. "Now we look for clues. Evidence, something that'll tell us where to go next," he said trying to simplify the practice as best as he could.

"Right," Ellie said firmly. She went into the kitchen, picking up the disturbed food, arranging them to look the way they looked before. Meanwhile, Nick was flipping the furniture back in order, going through his mind what kind of kidnappers would destroy the house like this. "Ellie? How close is your mom with the Triggermen?"

She shrugged, placing some cans on the counter. "She didn't talk about it much."

"Surely she said something in passing?"

"Nope," she said firmly, rubbing her nose.

Nick pursed his lips, continuing his search. Upon flipping over their coffee table, he noticed a small scrap of paper on the floor. Puzzled, he reached down to grab it. The note read:

MEMORY DEN

2:00

MONDAY

Standing up, he took the note to Ellie. "Is this your mother's handwriting?"

She took it in her hands, examining it. "Yeah. But she never told me anything about going to the memory den. She tells me to stay away from there."

"That's smart of her," Nick said taking the note back. "Not a place for kids."

Ellie shot him a dirty look, "I told you I'm not -"

Nick sighed and just apologized, wanting to get on with it. "Memory den, huh? I've got a friend there, maybe willing to help us out, figure out what your mother wanted."

"How is that going to help me find her?"

"Well, sometimes with missing person cases you have to work backwards to find what you were looking for."

Ellie gave him a wary look, "whatever you say. So. Memory den?"

"Let's head over," Nick smiled. "Don't worry. We'll find her."

"Yeah," Ellie said assuredly. "Yeah, we'll find her."

And that's how it began.