Return

The world was a horrible place when he left. My father went mad, people rioted, people died. He had to fix it, and that's exactly what he did.

But he'd changed.

Three months in the wasteland does that to a person, or so he told me. His childish grin had gone, and when he spoke to me the sparkle of happiness in his eye that caught my eye was no longer there. He was dead to the world. He was a stranger, and that terrified me. When I saw him walking through the Vault, I couldn't help be reminded of that boy he was six months ago; our first date, our first kiss, our first time alone together, and how those things were now just memories.

He wore a leather duster and a suit of pre-war amour that he'd repaired badly. A fedora sat on his head with more than one hole in it. I asked him why he didn't throw it away. He said that it was important to him. I nodded in understanding and we left it at that.

He walked around the vault with a slow, deliberate step, and a slight limp. When he was checked out by Andy, the robot found out that his femur bone had been fractured. How he could have walked was a mystery, until I saw him take a shot of Med-X and inject it directly into his leg. His whole personality seemed to brighten up after that, but he was still sullen and unhumorous, even when Andy suggested that he had it amputated. I had asked him about it, but he shrugged it off and muttered something about a large fall, and running from something called a Mega-Mutant.

Everyone that seemed to recognise him greeted him politely and cautiously, but he all he did was nod in their direction and continued on. He didn't talk about us, about how I had been, or even how my dad was doing. It was all business; it was just about the Vault after he had left. All he wanted was the big picture, nothing personal. I felt my heart tighten when he simply nod after hearing about Beatrice Armstrong's death. She had been his babysitter, and one of his dad's close friends. After we ran out of things to talk about, I had asked him about his dad. That was a big mistake. He stopped in the middle of the hall, and spat out that he had died, and that he didn't want to talk about it. I could hear the hollow tone of guilt and regret in his voice, but I was too afraid to talk to him about it. He had changed so much I didn't know what he would do.

He dealt with the various objects in his way with the same level as calmness I had always known of him, but with a violent twist; we encountered one of the guards that heavily supported the death of him and James, as well as supported the Overseer continuing as leader. The guard held his gun up to his head, and was about to fire, when he swiftly and calmly disarmed him with a twist of his hand, and seemed to incapacitate him with a punch to the side of the head. The guard slumped down, unconscious, and he continued with the conversation he was having with me. He did this a few times as we were attacked. It didn't seem to faze him at all, almost like he was used to danger around every corner, but then I realised that he had been in the Wasteland for such a long time, that I should have expected him to be a little like this.

When we were outside the Overseer's office, he told me to stay outside, then slid in and locked the door behind him. He quickly dealt with the situation; he and my dad had a relatively short chat, and soon after the fighting stopped and my dad handed over the job as Overseer to me. I was stunned; the amount of deaths and injuries that had been caused because of this civil war, and he simple went in, and within a few minutes changed my father's mind? How was that even possible? I quickly accepted the job, and spoke with him. I knew that I had this silly little dream where he would come through the Vault door, dressed in the Vault uniform he wore when he left, and smile at me. He would sort my dad out, and we would go back to the way things were, before he left. Now I realised that it would never have happened. So much can change in six months that I knew he wouldn't be the boy that made me fall for him, he wouldn't smile at me and wrap me in his arms like he used to. No midnight kisses, or romantic gestures, like before.

He... he had changed for the worse. He had to go, and I knew that. I had wanted him to stay in the Vault, with me, but now I knew that it couldn't happen. He sighed when I told him so, and looked at me hard. He agreed, and promptly left after clearing out his family's apartment, and his dad's office. He didn't even say goodbye, or even ask what was going to happen to the Vault now that he was left. He seemed to have no problem with it, but I knew he was hoping to be asked to stay, even if he knew he couldn't. Within twenty four hours, the Vault had been changed from a Civil War ground, to a place of peace again, but I knew it would be the last time the Vault would ever see The Lone Wanderer.

After he had left, I went back to my quarters, and sighed. I wouldn't cry, I wouldn't let the crippling sadness get to me. I was stronger than that, and I knew it. After a while of staring at the Overseer's manual, something I had learned off by heart at the age of twelve, I looked for a picture he and I had taken on our first anniversary. I found it at the bottom of my locker, at the foot of my bed. I looked at it and thought of that wonderful night we spent together. The longer I looked at it, though the longer I began to realise that something was different about it. I opened up the back, and looked at the page of paper that had been carefully folded and put into the back of it. I opened it up, and saw the familiar hand-writing of my former boyfriend, and heard a small something hit the floor. I looked down and saw something glint in the corner of my eye. I picked up a beautiful golden ring, and smiled sadly. I had known that he was going to propose to me a few weeks before he had left the Vault. He had let it slip a few times, without realising, and it broken my heart, the night after he left, when I realised that I would never end up marrying him. I dabbed my eyes with my sleeve, and looked at the letter.

"Dear Amata,

I know our time was short today, but I have changed. I am a monster now. The Wasteland has changed me to be a killer, and not the person I used to be. I have tried to live a good life, for you and for the memory of my dad, but I fear that one day I may pass away without you knowing. The numbers at the bottom of the page are a radio signal, something that I help set up a few months ago. It's a wasteland radio station that tells the truth about what's going on. I want you to listen to it; they mention everything of importance that's happened outside. I know you have plans of opening up the Vault one day, and I know this will help you decide when you should. It could be weeks, months or years till that happens, but I want to help as much as I can.

I'm sorry that I didn't tell you this in person; the loss of my dad has been too much for me to bare, and the Vault reminded me of him so much, that it was hard to help you out. I wish I could have stayed, I wish my dad hadn't have left, and I wish that I could have given you this ring before I was kicked out. It's yours now. I want you to keep it and use it on someone that makes you as happy as I did.

Goodbye Amata."

I closed her eyes and let a few tears roll down her cheeks, wetting the paper. I opened them again, took a deep breath, and wiped my eyes. I left the picture, letter and ring on her bed. Without another thought of him, I turned and left my quarters. I had a Vault to run now. My personal life didn't matter, anymore.

.~.~.~.~.

AN: Wow, so it's been a long time since I uploaded anything Fallout. I just happened across this while I was looking through my old, half written, one shots today, and I suddenly had the urge to finish it! It's kinda the sequel to the three-shot series I did a little while ago (Crap, a year and a half ago... 0.o) so, if you want a better understanding, read that. It's called "Multiplied by a Million". It's pretty fluffy.

So please, tell me anything that might help me improve this. I don't know whether I'll continue it, or what. I have a few ideas, but I don't know if anyone will want to read them.

Anyway... Rate and review, please?

Till next time,

Umbra-Luna