*Author's Note: For my readers who have been around since I first published Guns and Ghouls, I'm sorry for the long wait! I wanted to try and completely finish this before posting, but I feel that I'm close enough to wrapping up p.2 that I can put a few chapters out there without having to worry about leaving you guys hanging forever.
Adding enough content to this story to make it more than just a re-telling of the game's plot was a struggle (which is part of the reason why it's taken me so long), but hopefully you guys enjoy it. As always, if you have any suggestions/requests, I'd love to hear about them in the comments or in a message! This isn't a 100% finished fic yet, so there's always room for change or to try and add more content if need be.*
"What do you mean you won't give me the key?"
"I have to protect the privacy of all of my citizens, ma'am. It simply wouldn't be ethical for me- as mayor- to hand over the keys to someone's personal residence."
Rose clenched her fists so tightly her nails dug into her palms. "Mayor McDonough, all I'm asking is to be able to look for clues as to where Kellogg took my son. He is a kidnapper and a murderer. If you won't help me track him down, at least give me this much!"
The Diamond City mayor shook his head and sighed theatrically. "I sympathize with your predicament, truly I do. But I'm afraid my hands are tied."
Rose fought back a scream and forced herself to stay calm. It wasn't surprising that the dickhead mayor was trying to stonewall her; he had made it clear since she had first set foot behind the green wall that he wasn't interested in helping her. But it didn't make the situation any less frustrating.
"You know what, McDonough? Fine. I don't need your help." Rose spun on her heel and flung the door to the Mayor's top box office open. Before walking through, she added acidly, "One of these days, someone's going to find a way to make you suffer. I hope I get to be there to see it."
McDonough blanched. "Now, now, there's no need for such-"
But she was already gone, slamming the gate to the makeshift elevator shut with a ferocity that rattled the entire frame. Nick had wanted her to try the legitimate route first; he thought that maybe the mayor could be persuaded to help if she appealed to his good side. But she had hardly been able to talk with him for more than two seconds before losing her temper. That man was the worst kind of bureaucrat, and she was pretty sure he already had a grudge against her for befriending Piper. It was a good thing that he didn't know what she had going with his disowned ghoul brother, or he'd probably have the guards chase her off site.
She descended off the elevator and made for the entrance to Diamond City. Nick had said that he would meet her there when she was finished; apparently there was some errand that he had needed to take care of.
Rose trusted the detective implicitly; the man was a synth, and yet he had more compassion and integrity than most of the flesh-and-blood humans left in the world. He was the one who had convinced Piper and Hancock to let her follow this lead before it went cold. More than a little worried that she wouldn't be able to survive another battle with the wasteland, they had both done their best to keep her tied down in Goodneighbor. Rose understood; her three friends had rescued her from being kidnapped and tortured by a raider gang, and even she wasn't so stubborn as to deny that trauma like that left its mark.
However, Nick seemed to understand how vital it was that she do something, rather than sit around waiting to magically get better. He and Rose were a lot alike in that regard.
Rose was fuming, and almost didn't notice him until she reached the top of the stairs.
"No luck, huh?" Nick asked in his New Yorker accent, customary cigarette between his fingers. He didn't have lungs, but the habit stuck anyway. Part of the subroutines of his personality programming, she'd guessed.
She opened her mouth to make a smart-assed reply, but was cut off by a loud, eager bark.
"Dogmeat!" she exclaimed, her foul mood lifting instantly. She crouched down to hug the excited german shepherd, laughing when he tried to lick every inch of her face he could reach.
"How'd you get here?" she asked him, receiving a whine in response.
"I got in contact with some of your minutemen, had them radio out a message to your home in Sanctuary," Nick explained. "If you're going on a manhunt, then you're going to need a damn good tracker. I think Dogmeat here is probably the best in the business. Had him hitch a ride with one of your suppliers… Carla, I think her name was?"
"Trashcan Carla," Rose confirmed. "God bless her. I'm going to give her a bag full of caps the next time I see her."
"She's a good friend," Nick agreed. "But to get back to my original question… I can't help but notice that you're a key short."
Rose grimaced. "Yeah. McDonough was as useless as I thought he was going to be. I hope he gets eaten by ferals."
Nick frowned. "That's too bad. But he's not worth that energy; he'll get his own comeuppance, in time."
"I know, I know." Rose sighed. "Guess I'll just have to break in."
"Knowing Kellogg, he probably had a top-of-the-line lock on that door. You sure you can handle that?"
"Haven't encountered a lock I couldn't pick yet." She tapped Dogmeat on the shoulder. "Come on, boy. We've got work to do."
Together, the three of them made their way surreptitiously to the upper stands, where Kellogg's domicile rested. Nick kept watch while Rose fiddled with the lock; it was tough, certainly, but nothing a few bobby pins couldn't handle. After about ten minutes or so of careful maneuvering, she heard the mechanism slide open with a satisfying click.
"Nice," she murmured approvingly, and cautiously pushed the door open. She wouldn't put it past Kellogg to booby trap the place.
"So tell me more about this guy, Nick," she said, as they began to search through the leftover belongings. "Murderer and kidnapper I got, but why the boogie man reputation? You made it sound like the Commonwealth's almost as afraid of this guy as they are of the Institute."
"He's not your run-of-the-mill mercenary," Nick replied. "Far as I can tell, he's been around for as long as I have… only he's held up a hell of a lot better. Doesn't have any enemies because they're all dead." He paused. "Well, except for you."
"Could be his first and only mistake."
"Knowing you, it will likely be his last." Nick looked around the room, a confused crease between his brows. "Hey, this place seem a little small to you?"
"I was thinking the same thing…" Rose rummaged through the drawers of a desk, and gasped with her fingers brushed the unmistakable shape of a button. She pushed it, and the side wall slid away to reveal a secret room.
"Ha!" she exclaimed victoriously. Dogmeat barked his agreement, tail wagging as he padded into the room to investigate. The shepherd almost immediately sought out some strong-smelling cigars that were resting on a side table next to some empty Gwinett Stout bottles.
"Whatcha got there, boy?" Rose asked, picking up one of the stogies and wrinkling her nose. "Urgh. San Francisco Sunlights? These are still around? They were expensive, back in the day."
"That's a unique brand," Nick observed. "You think it's enough for Dogmeat to be able to track?"
The dog barked as though in affirmation, tail swishing and ears pricked forward attentively.
"I guess that answers that," Nick said, amused. His tone grew more serious as he turned back to Rose. "You can take care of yourself, Rose, there are no doubts about that. But Kellogg is a dangerous adversary; if you need backup, all you have to do is ask."
Rose smiled. "Thanks, Nick. But I'm supposed to grab Hancock when I'm done here; I don't want to put more of you in danger than is necessary."
"You know that wouldn't scare me off," Nick replied. "Though to be honest, I don't much like the idea of you heading out with John again. With what happened last time-"
"That was as much my fault as his," Rose said firmly.
"Be that as it may, I still advise caution. John's a good man, ultimately, but he's unpredictable and impulsive. Not a good combination to have on an op like this. You should take someone who's on more of an even keel."
Rose nodded. She wanted to deny it, but she knew her friend's concerns were well-founded. Hancock had a history of heavy drug use and running from his problems, both traits that Nick heavily disapproved of. But the ghoul had watched her back every minute they had travelled together, and in spite of his flaws Rose was hard-pressed to name a person she trusted more. It was true that what had happened with Jayce and his band of psychopaths had, at its source, been the result of Hancock's impulsivity- he had killed a man who had harassed Rose when she first came to Goodneighbor. But neither of them could have predicted that Finn would have a raider leader as a brother, or that he would track them down and kidnap her to exact his revenge. And while Hancock could easily have cut his losses and left her to die, he risked his life to make things right and rescue her.
Now, they were toeing the awkward line between friends and maybe-more-than-friends. They had both acknowledged that an attraction existed between them, but the emotional aftermath of Rose's kidnapping made things complicated. On her side, there was the trauma that still needed to be processed, nightmares that needed to be faced. On his, a heavy guilt that he hid beneath charisma and the distractions of chems and danger. And as always, the looming storm cloud of her missing son and her dead husband didn't make things any easier. It had been nearly a year since she had fallen out of her cryo tank in Vault 111, and time had numbed the grief of Nate's murder somewhat; but the rage she felt for her son was still fresh, and constant.
"I'll be careful," she said softly, kissing Nick on the cheek. "Besides, I'll be taking Dogmeat with me. I explored most of the northwestern Commonwealth with just him; he'll be able to keep Hancock in line." Dogmeat growled lightly, and even Nick couldn't help but chuckle.
"Just promise me you'll keep your eyes open." He gave her shoulder an affectionate squeeze. "I don't want to see you hurt again."
"I promise."