Charismatic in nature, always well-dressed, and one who rarely skirmished, Stone found herself stepping underneath the neon lights outside of the entrance to Goodneighbor. The lights casted a rosy glow over her pale skin, and it was the only thing showing her the shoddy entrance and the Neighborhood Watch standing idly.

The men didn't even so much as raise their tommy guns, but their eyebrows, at the pale woman in the tuxedo. It was late, around midnight when she had strolled up to the gate. They said nothing, but they were curious at her appearance. Stone was splotched with old and new bloodstains, grime, and dust.

Her amber eyes were showed her exhaustion and irritation from her sorry state, but she pushed onward.

She had been to Scollay Square a few times prior to the bombs, but she didn't recognize most of the dilapidated buildings now. She stood at the entrance for a second, her mind taking in the sorry state of the once beautiful area.

She was jogged from her thoughts when a man cleared his throat and said to her in a graveled voice, "Hold up there. This your first time in Goodneighbor?"

Stone was wary of the man, but nodded, in irate fashion, at him. She eyed him; a grizzled bald man in road leathers. He wore a smug mask, "You can't go walking around here without insurance."

Her lips quivered as she tried to keep a stoic face and very calmly she said, "You better back off, or you'll be the one needing insurance."

Stone was cross, her entire body aching from her travels.

The man stepped back, surprised by the aggressive words and the venomous tone. His mask of seriousness dropped instantaneously, "Whoa, hey all right. Let's just say your insurance is paid up for now, okay?"

They eyed each other; lithe, dapper Stone holding her ground against the man.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," a low, smooth voice halted the two. A ghoul emerged from the alley near the Old State House, dressed in a red frock and wearing a tricorn hat. His appearance stirred something familiar in Stone; there was something soothing to his presence. Behind him stood a stalwart woman, an air of danger surrounding her.

"Someone steps through the gates the first time, they're a guest. Can't have you bothering people again with that extortion crap, Finn." His voice was gravely, yet smooth, and he looked over Stone as well.

Finn's face curled into a snarl, "What do you care? She ain't one of us," he was bristling at the ghoul who kept his cool.

Perceptive as she was, Stone detected the menace in the newcomer's stance and the bellicosity in his suave voice.

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

The newcomer simply watched them, but Stone knew better though; she knew something was going to happen, something bad.

"You're soft Hancock, you keep letting outsiders walk all over us," he paused to glare at the girl and then back to him, "One day there'll be a new mayor."

A cunning smile crept across Hancock's face, "Come on man, this is me we're talking about," his demeanor changed and he reached out a hand warmly to Finn who cautiously leaned towards him. In a flash, a knife was lunged several times into Finn's gut, "Why'd you go and have to say that?"

Her eyes wide in shock, Stone watched the man keel over and bleed out. The Commonwealth's violence had become jaded to her, but the act left her wordless. Insightful as she was, she was left in surprise at the rapid turn of events. Stone instinctively took a step back from Hancock, though he was genuinely grinning at her.

"Now, I know you had ole' Finn handled back there," he paused and looked her over, a small gleam in his dark eyes that made Stone shuffled uneasily, "but a mayor's gotta make a point sometimes. You all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine…better than he is," she nudged the corpse with her foot, a nervous chuckle escaping her. She felt uneasy in his gaze and avoided his black eyes.

"Good, now don't let this little incident taint your view of our little community. Goodneighbor's of the people, for the people, you feel me? Everyone's welcome."

"Yeah, I feel ya," a grin crossed her tired face and she met his gaze.

"Good. You stay cool, and you'll be part of the neighborhood," Hancock was smiling, "so long as you remember who's in charge." It was a quiet reminder, slightly laced with seriousness.

He sauntered away to the Old State House, and Stone stood there for a second, watching the red frock sway.

Stone found herself in Daisy's Discounts, the old ghoul looking at her with attentive eyes, laced with disbelief.

"I used to go there," Stone smiled, thinking back to the long hours consumed in the public library, "I was a lawyer, so I spent a lot of hours there. Just reading and studying. Fat lot of good it does me today!"

Daisy laughed, nodding in agreement, "I bet we could swap a lot of stories."

Stone's amber eyes glittered; she was always happy to find someone who had lived post-war. She always found herself talking to old ghouls the longest, and for a while she forgot when she was, and she was always grateful for that.

"Over a few pints," Stone gestured to her bloodied tuxedo, "but for now, I need to find a crash pad."

"Hotel Rexford, it's rather cheap there for a night."

Her items pawned and pockets lined with caps, she sauntered to the hotel until she came across a roadblock of people. All of them were staring at the mayor; the ghoul with a wild glimmer in his eyes as he rallied his people; she had caught the crescendo of the speech.

He was bent over the railing, overlooking the people of Goodneighbor, "The Institute! They're the real enemy! Not the Raiders, not the Super Mutants, not even those tools over in Diamond City!"

Someone shot out something about McDonough, and Hancock glazed over it, "Now, I want everyone to keep the Institute in mind. When someone starts acting funny. When people are doing things they don't normally do. When family starts pushing you away for no reason,"

Stone felt her blood boiling at his words, her tiredness evaporating as she listened intently.

"We all know who's behind that kind of shit. And the only way to stop it, is to stick together. They can't control us if we're not afraid!" He paused, "Now, who's scared of the Institute?"

"Not us!" Stone suddenly lost her voice amongst the others, her warm eyes glimmering with energy.

"And which town in the Commonwealth should the Institute not fuck with?"

"Goodneigbor!"

"And who's in charge of Goodneighbor?"

"Hancock!"

The denizens, Stone, and the charismatic ghoul all chanted, "Of the people, for the people!"

The Sole Survivor slept fitfully, as normal, in the Hotel Rexford. Visions of the mayor, the night's crowd, the multiple people she had met… all of it became muddied in her dreams. She sat on the edge of the bed, groggy but unable to sleep. She checked the Pip-Boy, at least she had gotten two hours of sleep.

Good enough.

She seldom dreamt of Shaun or Nate anymore, and an empty pang resonated in her chest as she thought about them emotionlessly. She twisted her wedding ring, now on her right hand*, mindlessly. She missed Shaun dearly, but the overwhelming vastness and difference of the Commonwealth had turned her priorities upside down.

She couldn't sleep because of Hancock. The mayor's speech reignited her desire to shine light on the new age boogeyman.

She threw on a light and much cleaner outfit and headed out to the Third Rail.

It was about 2AM, and she noticed how crisp the air was. The street's residents huddled against the sides of the buildings for warmth or for some privacy while they shot up, and Stone remembered where she was.

She was extremely happy that she knew some basic chemistry to make those feel-good chems, and she could sell them for higher than normal prices since she was so compelling.

In the Third Rail, her amber eyes drifted over the singer's beautiful frame as her voice filled the old metro station. The atmosphere made her feel comfortable almost immediately.

Stone observed all the drunken citizens still awake, and for the first time since college and before Shaun was born, she felt young and vibrant. She felt at home for the first time since scouring the Commonwealth.

But those people weren't who she was looking for. Her eyes scanned the bar for that red frock, and saw the ghoul silhouetted against the bar's light. He sat next to a red head, her frame intimidating, even though she and Hancock bantered together lightly.

Hancock pulled an inhaler of jet out of his pocket while the woman lit a cigarette, and while Stone watched them from afar, she mentally composed what to say. She dug into her pocket for some grape mentats, and popped one in her mouth.

Time to say thank you, she thought as a slick smile crept across her face.