Carter stumbled, no longer having a grasp on which direction he was headed. He knew he wasn't ready to leave Megaton, wasn't ready to brave the wastes. He had been walking for days, and hadn't had any food or water. He wouldn't be able to walk for much longer.

Watching the feeble attempt from afar, an older man could recognize Carter for an ex vault dweller immediately. He shook his head, he'd never wear one of those jumpsuits, it caught people's attention, just like it was catching his now. That's not what you want in the Wasteland, you want to be as invisible as possible. Wearing that outfit was like a big "I'm a helpless little virgin, rape me!" to all the paraphiliacs of the Wastes.

It wasn't just the jumpsuit that advertised the kid's clean hands. The way he held himself was a dead giveaway. People in the Wasteland always, always have closed body language, words were not needed to tell people to stay away. The vault dweller's body did not display any warnings, and he didn't seem worried about anything but his destination. He didn't glance around to make sure no one was around, he wasn't on lookout at all for any foreign person or object to scavenge.

The man couldn't help himself, he approached Carter, who didn't even notice him coming.

"Need help?" his simple question startling the kid.

"What? Y-yes. I need food, water... please." Carter answered, his voice cracking.

The stranger produced a half-full bottle of water, and something wrapped up in cloth.

As always, your pity for the destitute will be your downfall. I'm embarrassed to have been your mentor, did you not listen to a word I said?

That was Clark, who was now dead. Even in death, he would never leave the poor man alone, he'd continue to criticise. Though, it was more of an advantage than a burden, this voice had counseled him and kept him alive ever since he'd had it. He would feel even lonelier if it went away.

The vaultie looked at him questioningly, suspiciously, and thankfully, all at the same time. It only took a nod for him to decide it was alright to drink the water, and he unwrapped the cloth. It revealed some unidentifiable dry pieces of meat.

"Brahmin jerky." the donor clarified.

Carter knew what a Brahmin was, and he wasn't sure it was safe to eat, but he didn't care. He had to put something in that stomach before it tried eating itself. He didn't eat it all, not wanting to anger this generous man. However, the man indicated that he should finish, and he didn't have to be told twice. He felt much better with food in his stomach.

"What are you doing here?" the man asked him bluntly once he had finished. For the first time, he gazed upon the man, taking in his appearance.

How hadn't he noticed the distinct features of this man before? Once you caught a good glimpse of his face, you were ensnared by the intricacies. Just looking at it gave you that feeling, that this man had experiences, he had lived. Perhaps not a happy, funloving life, but his face told you stories. Wrinkles had began to form prematurely, and Carter found himself guessing what emotion had caused each crevice. Did those crows' feet come from his baby daughter? Are those frown lines from being in so many stressful, high-pressure situations, or losing so many companions? How many times must he have been surprised by an enemy to have those deep forehead lines? It was rude to stare, but Carter couldn't help himself, he was captivated. He wanted to reach out a hand, and see how cold and rough it was to the touch. There were scars, but Carter had seen a lot of people with scars on their faces. In the vault, the scars only came from digging too much at a zit, but there were many Wastelanders with maimed faces. The scars weren't what Carter noticed next, it was the eyes. They watched him serenely, but with an intensity that made Carter feel as if he had said something quite extraordinary. They didn't miss a thing, Carter felt like this man could see right through him, and read him like a book.

"Answer me, boy." the man said with surprising sharpness. He noticed Carter staring, as everyone does, and became impatient.

Carter snapped out of his daze, "I'm... looking for the Citadel..."

"For what purpose?"

"I want to become a Knight."

The crease of those forehead lines deepened significantly, the man certainly didn't expect him to say that. He was going in the wrong direction of the Citadel, but the man didn't tell him this yet. "Do you have any idea what Knights do, boy?"

"They protect the Wasteland, right? Try to make it better. Like the vaults!"

Then, it was the frown lines that became more prominent. "We don't want the Wasteland like those damn vaults. You don't want to go to the Citadel, they'll laugh in your damn face. How long have you been out of the vault?"

"A week..."

The man laughed, but since it was not a real laugh, Carter didn't see the crows' feet.

You should have left him, you wasted your food on him. Clark's voice chastised, He's a dead man walking anyways.

"Turn back to Megaton." he had only guessed the kid was from Megaton. It was the direction he was coming from.

"No." Carter said with more defiance than he had meant.

"What did you say, boy?" the man's face showing a faint sign of anger. People didn't disobey him very often.

"I can't... I have to do this!" Carter said with a rising voice, he didn't like people trying to stop him.

Carter felt himself being studied by the man, hard. It made him feel uncomfortable, but he stood still. He didn't know if this was a good, or bad thing.

The man looked at Carter, feeling nostalgia. He saw so much of his old self in this mere boy, it was unnerving. That tenacious look in his eye, so much like his own when he was young. Once he saw this, he knew the boy was going to the Citadel, no matter what.

And he would take him.

"I'm going to the Citadel." the man told him.

"Can I come with you?" Carter asked hopefully. He received a short nod, and hurried to catch up with his new travel partner.

"I'm Carter Brady," he introduced, wondering if he should hold his hand out, but decided against it.

"Emmett Adams," the man answered back. He didn't mean to say that, he meant to keep quiet, but he had just blurted it.

"Why are you going to the Citadel?" Carter asked curiously.

"I'm running low on ammo, and have a few things that need to be repaired."

"The Citadel just replenishes your stuff like that?!" Carter was amazed, he thought that the man meant the Brotherhood of Steel just gives out free ammo.

Emmett just responded with a brusque nod.

"Not much of a talker, are you?"

Emmett made a throaty sound that sounded like a growl mixed with a sigh, signalling for Carter to shut up. He didn't ask any more questions.

Traveling with the man made him notice his walk. His left leg was crippled, making him limp. It was a dignified stagger, though, it told you that he still wasn't weak, that you still didn't want to fuck with this guy. Even so, Carter wondered how fast he could still run.

It wasn't long until Carter felt weak again, he still hadn't had enough to eat. His stomach loudly demanded that something be put in it, but Emmett didn't hear it with his horribly abused ears. Emmett had figured that Carter was still starving, but the Citadel was close.

-------

Carter had made it to the Citadel, surprised by how close he was. When he was walking, he had been a little off direction, though. Without Emmett, he may not have made it. He'd put in a good word for the man if he ever got a chance.

Carter was a little dismayed by the look of the Citadel. Sure, it was better than most buildings out here, but it still wasn't beautiful by any means. His spirits were sprung up again when he saw his first Knight, all decked out in Power Armor. He had never seen such a fiercesome looking person, you had to be out of your mind to attack a guy in that suit. Carter gaped at the Knight, who stared at Emmett.

"Hail..." the Knight said meekly, recognizing the great man before him. Carter couldn't believe that a guy who looked so powerful would speak so humbly. Was Emmett important or something?

Emmett strode passed them, and into the Citadel, his companion close behind. There were curious looks cast their way, but Emmett walked quickly, not giving Carter much time to stare back. They entered a building and followed the signs that read "Mess Hall". Once they were in the cafeteria, Emmett pulled open a refrigerator and handed Carter some more meat and water, then got some himself. Carter thanked him, and sat, not knowing if he was supposed to just pick it up and bite it or what. Was meat finger food out here? When Emmett just took it and sunk his teeth in, Carter guessed it was. In the Vault they used silverware, but he always thought eating like this was more fun. He took a swig of his water, noticing it had a weird taste; it was more metallic, but he drank it all anyways. After eating it all, Carter was still hungry, but didn't complain.

Carter cleared his throat, "Can I speak with someone about joining?"

Emmett shook his head, that pseudo-smile returning to his lips, "Being a Knight isn't a fairytale life. It's a shit one. You fight for ungrateful bastards who will turn around and shoot your head off for a couple caps. You have to be able to carry out a mission that you know you won't live through without hesitation. Joining the Brotherhood is signing off your life to the Elder. The training is more grueling than you could ever imagine, and more Initiates die than Knights, Paladins, and Scribes put together. The Brotherhood only trains the best, and only accepts perfection. I suggest you crawl back into that hole of yours, and leave the hard work for the ones who can handle it. What makes you think you can just waltz in here after living in a Vault your entire life?"

Carter didn't think that the man would be so negative, he thought he had the man's support. But he knew that the question wasn't rhetorical, if there was any chance of him becoming a Knight, he'd have to give an answer. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, and when they opened again they were adamant with resolve.

"I know, I'm from a Vault, so you think I'm worthless. But weren't we all at one point? Even you have been weak at one time, and now look at you. It's not too late in the game, I can do it, I can grow. I'll do whatever is necessary, I'll work every single day of my life, no matter how vigorous that work is." Carter said with such fervor, it was hard for even Emmett to challenge him.

"Why?"

Carter stopped, he didn't know if his reason would be enough for the man, but he had to try.

"In my Vault, we never did anything. We sat in our comfortable burrow and lived a carefree life of luxury and convenience. I thought I was satisfied, and happy. But then, during class, we learned about history. About the great things people have done, ambitious people, trying to make a change. Nothing had sounded better than that, to leave a mark on the world. To touch it, and leave the loops of my fingerprint. Because, once it's all over and done, what matters more than what you've left behind? The people of my Vault couldn't care less about accomplishment, they're content with leaving a rotten corpse behind. Instead, I decided to make a difference, to matter. I started asking for more books on history, and I'd study about all of the powerful men and women in the world, so I could have a better understanding on how to be like them. A man in my Vault named Thomas saw me studying, and we talked. During that conversation, we had learned a lot about each other, and discovered that both of us were craving more, we were hungry for it. He helped me escape the Vault, and brought me to Megaton. He eventually left m-"

Emmett eyebrows had narrowed and he snapped at Carter, "I didn't ask you to tell me your life story."

"Oh... I'm sorry."

Emmett gave him another look, like he was analyzing the young boy. Carter felt a chill, once again feeling like the man was sizing him up, it made him feel nervous.

"How old are you?" he asked.

"Uh, fifteen."

Emmett took a deep breath. This would be a lot of work. But he actually approved of the boy's motives, he didn't have the soft, tenderhearted reasons that most people did. He wanted to be great, and Emmett would grant his wish.

"Elder Bronn won't take you so young, but I will."

"What?"

"If you truly want to become a distinguished figure in the Brotherhood, you'll need to learn from me."

"Are you some kind of instructor?" Carter asked.

"No."

"Then who are you?"

"That's quite a story." but Emmett had been planning on telling him anyways.

"I've got time."

-------

There's chapter one for ya. I know that it doesn't seem like the description really goes with the story, but there just wasn't enough room to fit everything. Now, if you haven't guessed, we're going to go through Emmett's life, and we won't be seeing Carter again for quite some time.

There may be a couple things you're confused on, relating to the setting, and who this Elder Bronn is, but don't worry. It'll all be explained.

I apologize for any grammar issues, I do this on WordPad so there's nothing that tells me when I make those errors. Grammar has never been my forte, either. I also apologize to everyone who reads my other stories for me not updating in forever, and then starting another multichaptered fiction. I'll get to them someday.

Please, tell me what you thought of this. I'm craving some constructive criticism.