I do not own Fallout or any of its products. This is simply for the enjoyment of any and all who are interested. This is my first fanfic so please take it easy on me. Thanks and enjoy.

Chapter 1

As Luther and Tyler enter the saloon all conversations quiet. The patrons refuse to look up at them, instead staring down into their drinks. There is a slight pause, and then the duo cross the saloon to sit at the bar. A collective breath of relief is released as the patrons realize that they are not here for any of them. Gob, the saloon's ghoul bartender, approaches, cleaning a shot glass with a rag. "Can I get you two anything?" he asks with the rasp all ghouls have

Luther is secretly relieved that no one has gone for their weapons yet. Granted, most Megaton settlers likely cannot even afford a proper weapon, but still. After what happened last time the two of them came through here, he expected something much more unfriendly.

"Two beers," Tyler growls beside him, "and if you have any med-x or buffout we will take some of those too." Gob nods and reaches under the bar for the drinks. Luther shoots Tyler a look from the corner of his eye. "What," he snaps, "my head is killing me and no matter how much you deny it I know that you want a drink."

Luther opens his mouth to respond, but Gob stands up from under the bar and places two bottles in front of them. The ghoul gives them a discreet nod before going to retrieve Tyler's chems from the back. Tyler immediately starts drinking. Luther just stares hatefully at his before pushing it away and muttering darkly, "I don't drink anymore."

Tyler continues to drown himself and Luther takes a discreet look at the other patrons. Years of intense training followed by just as many years out in the wastes has taught him to never let his guard down. He has been called suspicious, paranoid even, but he, unlike many, is still alive.

There are nine people in the saloon, including the owner, an Irish prick named Moriarty, the town whore Nova, and of course Gob. Besides them there is a couple seated in a corner, a blonde woman, and old man in a mechanic suit who is talking to another patron with an eyepatch. All of these people Luther recognizes slightly from previous visits, but the last patron is a stranger.

The stranger is dressed in a pristine white suit with a black hat. This man is very much out of place, and not just because of his clothes. He has an air to him, a purpose. Megaton settlers are destitute, squatters even. They live out meager lives while trying to ignore the hell that waits just outside of the city walls. Their isolation leads to an unmistakable look, hell the isolation has even driven some of them to worshiping the live atomic bomb at the town center. This man however, he does not have that look.

He wants to stand out, to separate himself from the others. Even with his hat pulled low over his face Luther can see the disdain in the man's eyes as he observes the other patrons. Luther knows the type. He has dealt with people like this before. He also knows that this man in the suit may well be the opportunity he and Tyler are looking for.

He nudges Tyler, "to our right, man in a white suit, might be a possible job there."

Tyler nods and takes a long drink from his beer. "What is his look?" he asks as he cracks his neck. Luther glances back at the man again. The stranger has taken notice of the two of them and is giving them a critical look. Luther can almost see the gears turning in his head, calculating if the two of them are up to his standards.

"High and mighty," Luther replies, turning back to the bar, "like he thinks all the people here are bugs. Annoying bugs that need to be squashed out as soon as possible."

Tyler scoffs, "Not interested. Unlike you and your people I do not involve myself in mass murders, exterminations of towns, or politics of any form."

Luther fixes him with his best death stare. "Listen," he growls, "I realize you don't trust anyone dressed better than us, but we could use the caps. Besides, if he is plotting something then maybe we can stop it and get back some good karma with this town."

Tyler is unimpressed by Luther's glare and only grunts in reply before turning his drink up for another gulp. Luther shakes his head in annoyance and decides he is going to talk to the man despite his partner's attitude. As he stands his attention goes to the door where another person is walking into the saloon. The second his eyes land on the newcomer all sorts of red flags fly up.

The newcomer is wearing a nice leather jacket over what looks to be one of those vault suits. He is carrying a well taken care of 10mm pistol and in his hands is a heavy wooden bat. His hair is short and his young face has only the beginnings of stubble. Maybe only nineteen or twenty, the kid looks very lost.

Without really knowing why, Luther immediately sits back down and stares at his drink. Beside him Tyler scoffs, "Decided against going into the employment of another psychopath?" At the lack of a response he turns to his partner and notices the look on his face. "Luther," he questions, "what is up with…"

Tyler's voice trails off as the newcomer walks up behind them. "Um," the kid mumbles quietly.

"What the hell do you want punk?" Tyler growls, turning to face the kid full on. The venom in Tyler's voice startles the kid who takes a cautious step backwards.

"Uh, nothing," He stammers. He opts to step away and sit down at the bar, right next to Luther. Several long seconds drag by where Luther tries to ignore the kid and Tyler glares at him. Finally Luther turns to look at him. "Is there something you want?" he asks coldly.

The kid swallows noticeably before speaking. "I am looking for my Dad. I was told that some people may have seen him around here earlier."

Luther stares angrily at the kid before rolling his eyes. "Seriously, fuck off kid."

"But…"

"Listen," Luther spits, "we just got here ourselves. We don't know shit about your sorry Dad. Now. Fuck. Off."

The kid's mouth opens and closes a few times as he sits there in stunned silence. He is about to stand up and move when a velvety voice speaks from across the saloon. "Now, now, Luther," Nova coos as she saunters towards them, "is that any way to treat a nice young man like him. What is the problem hun?"

Nova sits down next to the kid and lays a hand on his shoulder. The kid stammers a few times before shrugging her off. "I am looking for my Dad," he repeats, "we came from the vault."

"Well I'll be damned." A new voice comments. "If it isn't the little tyke all grown up and out in the world." Luther looks up and groans inwardly as Moriarty leans against the bar. He does not like the man, and having him this close sets his trigger finger itching.

"You know me?" the kid askes with more than a confused expression on his face. "That can't be right. I was born in the vault."

"Oh I see how it is," Moriarty smiles, "dear ol' dad lied to you. Well that is how it is kid. Welcome to life. People lie. Now why they hell are you here, causing all this ruckus?"

"Says he is looking for his Dad," Nova answers for him. "Didn't he come through here a few days ago?"

Moriarty's smile vanishes as he leans across the bar and smacks Nova. "You need to learn when to keep your fat mouth shut bitch." Luther's hand automatically reaches for the gun at his hip. He has to force himself not to draw the weapon and kill the fucking bastard. Remember, he thinks to himself, you are trying to get back into this towns good graces. "Leave them be Moriarty." Tyler growls beside him. Well, at least I didn't say anything, this time.

Moriarty looks at the two of them and recognition grows on his face. "Well, look here, the two scumbags from the wasteland, back to spend the last of their caps in my establishment. I should remind you that you ought to keep quiet as well, lest I remind these good townsfolk why we kicked you two out last time."

"Now then," he says turning his attention back to the kid, "How about a little deal huh? You really want to know where you dad is, then all you have to do is a small favor for me."

The kid stares at Moriarty, shocked by the violent mood swing he just witnessed in the man. He shakes his head and leans back as he talks, as if trying to get away from the Irishmen. "I just want to know where he is," the kid pleas, "if you know something pleas just tell me."

"I'm afraid that just isn't the way things work up here kid. Nothing is free. You want the information from me, you first have to provide me with payment, of some sort."

"Oh come on Collin," Nova says timidly, "can't you just tell him?" A look from Moriarty shuts her mouth and sends her walking back to her spot by the wall.

The kid sighs and Luther realizes that he is about to take the deal. Before he even finishes thinking it through he interjects, "Name your price." It seems everyone turns to look at him.

"What was that?" Moriarty demands, casting him a warning look.

Luther meets the look with one of his own, "I said, what is your price. For the information." Beside him Tyler sighs heavily as he realizes what his partner intends. Luther sees him shrug his shoulders and down the rest of his beer.

He can see the Moriarty calculating up the sums in his head. A wicked smile plays across his lips. "Since it is you, how about we say, one-hundred caps."

His gut sinks. Seventy six caps is all he and Tyler have between them. If he offers that, they will not be able to pay their tap and then will be in debt to the bastard. He stops to think, and then notices the hand written wanted sight hanging on the wall. "How about this," he replies, his face devoid of emotion, "we take care of your little Silver problem, and then you give us the information?"

The Irishman steps back and crosses his arms as he thinks. "Fine," he snaps after a few seconds, "but I want back all the caps that bitch stole from me, all two-hundred of them."

Luther nods and stands, letting Tyler pay Gob for the drinks and the Chems before walking out. He takes the wanted notice from the wall as he walks out the door, just to get a few more details. The two of them stand just outside the saloon on one of the many catwalks that crisscross the city.

"Just what the hell were you thinking?" Tyler suddenly demands. "Why the fuck did you do that! One second you are ready to take a job from a man who looks the part of a coldhearted killer, the next you selflessly put yourself between Moriarty and some dumbass kid!"

Luther whirls on him, "What was I supposed to do! You know as well as I that Moriarty would have conned that kid out of every cap he has, used him until he was worthless, and then tossed him out the fucking door to the hounds!"

Tyler throws his hands up. "Fine. At least we got a fucking job, which was the whole point of stopping here." He stops and the anger in his eyes grows. "That said, it is a job we are not even going to get paid for, fuck this is stupid!"

"Excuse me," a voice interrupts.

"What!" they shout in unison. They turn to see the vault kid standing there. He shrinks back, holding up his hands.

"If it helps, I can do that job for you." He elaborates after swallowing hard. "I can deal with that, um, bounty if you like. This is my problem after all."

Tyler chuckles and crosses his arms. "Will you look at this? The kid is a boy-scout."

"Listen," Luther sighs," I get that you are trying to look out for your own affairs, but we have already accepted the deal. Honestly I am only doing this to piss that Irish prick off."

The kid shrugs, "Okay, I guess I understand that, but I still want to help. I won't accept charity."

Luther sighs again. He has to admit, the kid is persistent. "Fine," he finally snaps, "but stay behind us and don't get in our way." He turns on his heel and marches towards the town gates. The others fall in line behind him.

As they exit the town the Sheriff, Lucas Simms, gives them a look. Luther nods at him and the sheriff tips his hat. The two of them have never exchanged more than three words in the past, but they have maintained a silent, mutual, agreement. The same agreement most mercenaries have with any and all lawmen. I won't cause trouble in your town, and you leave me be.

As they walk out of Megaton's outer gate Luther notices that the kid is shielding his eyes from the sun. "You said you were from a vault right?" The kid nods, blinking as his eyes adjust. "You never seen the sun before have you. Just what is it like down there?"

The kid shrugs his shoulders. "It, it is a lot different from up here." Luther shoots him a, no shit, look. "Well," he continues, "for starters everything was much cleaner, and less open. Everything is cramped tunnels and tight spaces. Up here it is like being in the atrium, but, bigger."

Tyler shakes his head, "Listen kid, the two of us have been inside abandoned vaults before. We know the physical conditions. I am pretty sure that what Luther is asking about is your society. What are the people like?"

He takes a moment to think. "There isn't a whole lot of privacy. Everyone knows everyone. I guess that we function just like every other group out there. We have a leader, he has his enforcers, and the rest of us just try to fly under the radar. Not much else to tell really."

Luther stops walking and turns to face the kid. "So, no experiments? No crazy mutations, oddities, or anything else out of the ordinary?"

The kid tilts his head to the side with a thoughtful look on his face. "Um, well, I don't know what passes as normal up here…"

Luther laughs, "Nothing does, and at that, everything does." He turns and resumes walking. "All the other vaults that I have been too were built to test something. You know, radiation, food supplies, mental issues, that sort of bull. Yours sounds like it was actually made to save people. Imagine that."

They soon arrive at the bombed ruins of Springvale. The buildings on the streets are nothing more than empty husks now, most don't even have walls anymore. Scavengers long ago picked the place clean so there is no one around, but this is the place where Moriarty's notice claims the woman he is after is hiding.

They poke around for a bit, getting startled only once when an eyebot floats by, broadcasting some bullshit from the Enclave. Luther glares at the little chirping robot, wanting nothing more than to shoot it down and shut up the overly patriotic messages of John Henry Eden, the Enclave's President. However, that would be a waste of ammo.

Eventually they spot a small house on the edge of the ruins that looks to be in fair condition. It is seated next to a hill near the ruins of an elementary school. As they approach, Luther catches whiff of a strong, unmistakable, scent on the wind. His hand goes for the gun at his hip, but it is too late. An explosion goes off to his left and he is thrown to the ground in a shower of debris. His vision swims as he crawls away. Behind him he can here the whooping and shouting of the raiders as they close in on his position. Somehow he manages to drag himself to his feet. A bullet flying by his head sends him leaping for cover though and he once again finds himself sprawled on the ground.

He sits up against the car he has thrown himself behind and shakes his head in an attempt to clear the fuzz. More bullets come his way, causing him to pull his .32 rifle off its bandolier. He flips the safety off and leans out to take aim. Four raiders coming towards him. Six more in the background shooting at one of the ruins, hopefully Tyler has the kid and is digging in there. He sights in one the closest raider's head and fires. The raider's head jerks back as the bullet hits him and sends what little brains he has spraying out the back of his head. The corpse hits the ground and the other three stare at it in shock for a moment before scattering into cover. Luther doesn't wait for them to regain their composure and quickly moves to another position, hoping to flank from the right.

"Where the hell is that bastard!" one of the raider shouts to the others, effectively giving away his position as he leans out of cover. Luther stands briefly and fires off another killing shot. The last two raiders panic and run for the ruins of the old school building. Luther breaks from cover, working the bolt-action of his rifle, gunning down one and wounding the other. He looks over to where the other raiders where heading towards the house ruins to see three dead and the other three making a desperate charge at the house. He drops to one knee and fires off the last round left in his rifle, dropping one of the raiders who screams in agony as the bullet tears open his side, before drawing his combat knife and rushing the remaining two.

One raider turns to face him, holding up a rifle like a club, while the other disappears into the ruins. Luther ducks under the first swing from the raider's gun and jams his knife into the man's side as he tackles him to the ground. He rips the knife out and raises it above his head, intending to finish the man off, but the raider heaves and throws him off before scrambling forward and kicking the knife out of his hands. The man then presses his advantage, kicking savagely at Luther's side. He tries to roll away but the raider dogs him, pinning him down and raining blows onto his head. Luther's hands close around a heavy rock. He twists and brings it down onto the raider's knee. The man howls in pain and collapses to the ground, clutching his shattered kneecap. Luther stands and retrieves his knife. He kneels down and quickly slits the raider's throat. He wipes the blood from the blade as he approaches the house, leaving the raider to bleed out on the dirt.

He steps through a massive hole torn in the side of the house and looks around. There is a stretch of blood leading to where a dead raider lays slumped against a wall. There is a wound in his chest, a large hole, like something that would come from being shot with a shotgun loaded with slugs. "Tyler," he shouts, "where you at?" A small crash behind him causes him to whip around and reach for his gun. He lets out a sigh of relief when Tyler emerges from behind a bookcase where he had taken cover.

"Ha," Tyler laughs, "saw that grenade go off at your feet and those raiders go at you. Thought you were done for. Guess I should know better by now. Where is the kid?" Luther's gut tightens. The kid! Shit! He had forgotten about the fucking kid!

Okay, okay, I know that this is something of a cliff hanger, but seriously, do you really think I would just kill off the Lone Wanderer, or would I? The only way for you to find out is to continue.