((Title's obviously the Requiem sequence.))

Dies Irae

It had all been very subtle. At first, all had seemed well. The Railroad was peaceful enough, as was to be expected. P.A.M. was a little bit crazy, but Deacon had decided to take care of it before someone started a war. Again. The Brotherhood of Steel was leaving her alone. Too much so. Yes, they had her hunting ferals and other unpleasant things, but they didn't want to bother the Railroad. And yet, of course, Dez was sceptical. And of course, she had sent someone, just for reconnaissance. And that someone had vanished.

Kalyna sat up. Deacon was asleep next to her, oblivious to her worries and her intel. His face was peaceful and calm. It hadn't always been that way. But somewhere along the way, he'd managed to subdue his personal demons.

Or so she hoped. A lifetime of mistrust and self-hatred did things to the soul, and these wounds wouldn't heal so quickly. He claimed he trusted her, and to a point, he obviously did.

Deacon had taught Kalyna various things. He had taught her that not everyone in the Commonwealth was necessarily a threat. And other things, like how to work undercover. An important part of that lesson was that no-one, absolutely no-one could know what you were doing. Ignorance protected you as well as others. Some knowledge was outright dangerous.

Apparently, Deacon sensed something was off. He stirred and his eyes opened. ''sup?' he asked.

'Do you trust me, Deacon?' She'd asked him the same thing before. He'd evaded, then.

Now he sat up, suddenly wide awake. ''Course I trust you.'

'I need to go, Deacon. I'll ask Nick to look after Shaun. I may need you to go to HQ.'

He opened his mouth and closed it. 'Will I see you again?' he asked after a few seconds.

Kalyna shouldn't answer. She should tell him no, if anything. But no matter how much she'd learned, how well she could fool people, she failed with him. 'What a question.'

He relaxed visibly. 'All right. I don't even want to know. Just be safe.'

'I will be. So will you. You need to sort P.A.M. out. I'll sort out another mess.'

'Whisper … A more … ah … elaborate farewell is out of the question, I suppose.'

'I can't go through with this if we do this now, Deacon.'

He sat up, his head tilted slightly to the side. 'Whisper, I'm a bit scared here.'

'It all amounts to whether you trust me, or not. With your own safety and with the Railroad.'

'Absolutely.'

'Then just do one thing for me.' He nodded. 'Remember that you do. I will come back to you, Deacon. I swear to God.'

Ϡ

Deacon ambled into HQ with a smile on his face. He greeted Tom with a handshake, Dez by tapping his fingers against an imaginary hat, and Carrington with a manly nod. He strolled right into the backroom. 'Hi, Pamela. Here's the deal. I'm no Mr B, so I won't ask nicely. I'm going to take what I want, and that's … ah. Yes. Your power source, for the moment. Sorry.'

'Deacon, is that all you're going to say to us after being absent for … how long?' Carrington stood behind him, and Deacon could imagine his pose too well. Fists in his sides, face angry with a hint of disgust.

'Didn't count the hours without you.' He busied himself at the now still robot. 'And it's not as if I'd vanished off the surface of the world. Also, the way I remember it, Dez sent me to Sanctuary, so I wasn't exactly AWOL.' Granted, that had been … well, a while ago. Things had come up.

'Where's Whisper?'

'Working.'

'That's not very precise.'

'No.'

'I want an answer, Deacon. You're strangely silent.'

Deacon sighed. 'I'm working, Carrington. Or do you want me to make a mistake and have her lose her virtue?'

'I don't trust you. You've never talked much, but recently …'

'Enough.' Desdemona's voice was sharp, a tone she didn't usually take with her second in command. 'I told you to drop it before. We owe him and Whisper the victory over the Institute.'

'Then why didn't they come to us?'

'What does it matter?' Deacon finally turned away from P.A.M. to watch the scene before him. 'They're gone. With us, or the Minutemen, where's the difference? We have more peace than we ever thought possible.'

'You were the one that told us from the arrival of the Prydwen …'

'I said, that's enough.' Dez was well within Carrington's personal space. 'I will not start another war unless I am forced to!'

'Neither will P.A.M.,' Deacon managed to tell them in between. 'I fixed her. I guess. She's not going to start sending heavies out to shoot down vertibirds.' He frowned. 'Talking about heavies. Where's Glory?' Dez and Carrington exchanged a glance. Deacon didn't like it. 'Dez?'

'MIA.'

Deacon felt the blood draining from his face. 'Since when?'

'Two weeks.'

'Oh God.' He sat heavily on the chair at the terminal. 'Where'd she go?'

'Airport. Recon, because P.A.M. wouldn't shut up. We sent a message to Whisper, but I'm not sure if she got it.'

'She did.' He swallowed. 'Must have. She knows, and she's doing … something. I've got no idea what.'

'You don't know?'

Deacon shook his head at Dez. 'Not the faintest. Oh God, if anything happens to her …'

'That's exactly what's wrong with you both,' Carrington said.

Dez gave him a lingering look. 'Not now. She'll be all right, Deacon.'

'Since when are you an eternal optimist?' He wanted to rush to the airport, to the Prydwen, if he had to – oh, God, the mere thought of it – and find her, if it was the last thing he did. 'No,' he said quietly.

'Deacon?'

He shook himself. 'Sorry. I think we should let her handle this.' He made a face. 'I don't want to sit this one out, but I believe whatever we do, it'll mess up her plan. Whatever that is.'

'I don't know.' Her expression hardened. 'You're right, optimism hasn't helped us so far. Deacon, I don't want to lose you, too, but I need eyes out there. Don't be seen.' She paused. 'By anyone.'

Ϡ

Before anything else, Kalyna had talked to Danse. He would come with her when all was done. In other words, in three days, they would meet at the airport, get up to the Prydwen and announce the changes, as well as a thorough report why it had all gone up in smoke, whose fault that was, and how it would be done now. He'd agreed immediately, almost thrilled to be part of a plan to return the Brotherhood to its purpose as well as find a way to let him return. Beyond that, Kalyna hadn't revealed what she intended to do with them.

In the Brotherhood, Kalyna knew at least two people she might approach, both of them mere scribes. Clarke and Haylen had both had their experiences that made them doubt. Kalyna had never pushed, had left Clarke to feed the ferals, had left Haylen's unspoken questions to fester. She hadn't told on them, had supported them both when they were freaked out by their orders, and had wondered if that would ever be something she needed to use. What Kalyna needed now, were two messengers.

First, she found Scribe Haylen. The woman greeted her with a smile that faltered soon at Kalyna's urgency. 'You need to deliver a message for me. Don some street wear, get out, and head to Doctor Amari in the Memory Den in Goodneighbor. Now listen well. This is important.'

Haylen nodded. 'I'm listening.'

'The message is this: Some clients need a vacation, best in some historical place. A fortress, perhaps. They should take only what is necessary, everything in the resort is available for them. Their home will be used by visitors in their absence, but knowing them, there's nothing of value that'll stay behind for thieves.' She thought for a moment. 'Tell her … Tell her I will try and polish the silver plates for them. Tell her I will follow into the resort once I'm done.'

'Ah, what?' Haylen made.

'Sorry, this is all I can say. For your safety as well as mine.'

'All right … Got it. I think.' The scribe, used to delivering verbal messages, repeated what she'd heard perfectly.

'Haylen.' The young woman nodded. 'This is important. If you want to stop another war, you'll do this for me. Tell Amari the message is from me. Make sure she takes it seriously.' The only person who could possibly work that mess out was Deacon. The message would find him at HQ.

Kalyna's next target was Clarke, squatting underground with his ghouls. 'I need you to do something,' she told him. 'Something vital. There are lives at stake, lives that are very dear to me.' The young man looked at her, open and friendly, and she wondered if she was about to utter a death sentence. 'Maxson wants to start a war. A war with friends of mine, and I can't let him.'

'He wants to take the Railroad. I know.' Clarke looked disgusted. 'I don't even know why. I shouldn't have heard that, I'm sure. Not everyone agrees on this. Not anymore.'

'My point.' Kalyna smiled. 'You can help me stop that. Find something out for me. I believe they have a captive.'

'They do! A woman.'

'Where?'

Clarke lowered his voice as if the ferals would tell anyone. 'In here.'

'What?'

He swallowed and pointed to the room below.

Kalyna froze. 'We've got to get her out of there.'

'She must be dead by now.'

It was only reasonable. 'You don't know that woman,' Kalyna said. 'Since when's she been in there?'

'Two days. Don't know how long they had her before that. Told her that if she didn't have answers, she was no use.'

'Clarke,' Kalyna said carefully. 'You're aware that they know about this place and use it. I think they know about you, too. You need to leave.'

His eyes had widened. 'But then … how? No-one said anything.'

'No. Whoever did this has some plan for you. Who brought her?'

'Kells and a few others. She struggled so hard it took three guys to manoeuvre her in here.'

Kalyna bit her lips. 'Oh, Glory,' she managed. 'Clarke, you need to get the hell out. I need your help, and you need to be very fast. There are raiders in a building across from the Old North Church. You have to lure them in there. Once they're there, you need to get to the Castle. You know where that is?'

'Yes. And yes. What'll you do?'

'End the war before it starts.' She took a deep breath. 'Clarke, I hate to tell you that, but I need to rescue my friend.' For a moment he seemed about to protest, then he nodded. 'Don't watch. Don't come back. And whatever happens, whoever's fighting whom, get away from it. Stay in the Castle. I'll meet you there eventually.'

She readied her gun and took a deep breath. Crouching low to hide from the window, Kalyna made it to the door and opened it soundlessly. The weapon took out five ferals before they even noticed her. It was the same one she'd been given by Deacon all that time ago, the silenced gun that had been Tommy Whisper's. 'Glory!' she called. There was no answer, but now the remaining ghouls had registered her. Still crouched behind the wall, Kalyna managed to shoot them before they got near. 'Glory?' She couldn't wait, darted inside, watching out for movement, any movement, ready to fire, ready to help.

'Whisper? Whisper!' The voice came from above, the synth cowering on top of piled metal crates. She looked horrible. How she'd managed to get up there, Kalyna had no idea. When she dropped down, she promptly fell over and remained on the floor, her usual grace gone. 'Couldn't have made it a bit sooner, could you?'

The ghouls had taken bites out of her, arms and legs torn, her face bruised and bloodied. 'I'll get you out of here,' Kalyna said, crouching before her.

'No.' The synth licked her lips. 'You need to … I told them nothing. No matter what they … I'm just a machine, so they can do as they please with me, they said. And they did.' She shook herself, and her expression became almost as wild as the ferals'. She forced herself into a sitting position and grabbed Kalyna's arms, leaving bloody stains on her clothes. 'They'll find us. They managed to steal one of Tinker's dratted weathervanes, apparently got the data, too. They'll find us, Whisper!'

'I'm working on it, Glory. First I need to get you out and taken care of.'

'Look,' the synth said. 'Give me a weapon. Same calibre as yours would be best.'

'I can give you this.'

'No, it must be one you can leave, or they'll know you did this. You need to stay on the inside.'

'I thought you didn't believe in stealth.' Kalyna fished for another 10mm gun and passed it to Glory.

'Changed my mind.' Glory eyed the pistol. 'Yeah, that'll do. They'll never know how I hid it.' She smiled. 'Would you mind … ah, I think I left a knife back there, over where that dead ghoul is.'

'I'll get it.' She hurried over to pick up the blade. When she didn't find one, she turned, about to tell Glory that there was no time to go hunt it down, that they needed to get out. She opened her mouth, but no words came. Glory had the muzzle of the pistol in her mouth. 'No, don't you …' The shot bellowed loud, echoing longer than it had any right to in the cavernous space.

Ϡ

Deacon had salvaged the uniform from a dead agent of the Brotherhood an eternity ago. It was way too conspicuous to serve as a disguise, and more than once, he had considered scrapping it. Now, however, it was the one thing between him and a bullet between his eyes.

His face was unfamiliar to the people here, but the hubris of the Brotherhood didn't let anyone wonder who he was as long as he was wearing the uniform. He might be some recruit, no-one knew everyone's face. He knew the place, knew where they kept what, didn't look lost.

The problem was that Deacon needed intel. He would find that on the Prydwen. To reach the Prydwen, he needed to become someone that had a right to be there. It wasn't that Deacon lacked the necessary information. He had all that. He even had a bleeding holotag, and he knew how to get his hands on a set of power armour. He knew where he could lift a few technical documents to look busy. Hell, if he wanted to, he could explode the Prydwen. But that wasn't what this was about. Not that exploding anything with Whisper on it was an option.

There were two things that troubled Deacon. One, he had to get on board. He didn't doubt that he could. He simply didn't want to. Like, he really didn't want to. His fear of heights wasn't a joke but something very real.

The other issue he had was with mistrusting Whisper. This wasn't his idea, but he had agreed too quickly. He should have talked Dez out of it, told her that Whisper wouldn't let anything happen to them. He hadn't done that, and he hated himself for it.

As he had hoped, getting his hands on the power armour wasn't too tough. He knew his way around a lock, and he knew how not to be seen. He also managed to get on that horrible vertibird and then the Prydwen. He even managed not to throw up inside the helm of his power armour. But then again, the day was still young.

Deacon busied himself on the airship, at crafting stations, carrying things from one place to another. He couldn't keep doing this for long, he'd have to get out very soon.

He was about to give up when he saw her. Walking as if she owned the place, Kalyna marched down to where some of the Brotherhood were doing whatever it was they did. Deacon stood with a few technical documents he pretended to study and listened to his world fall apart.

Ϡ

It was all set into motion. The success of Kalyna's plan depended largely on Deacon deciphering her message: Get everyone out of HQ and to the Castle; take what you need, the Castle is well-equipped; enemies will come, destroy anything that you can't leave behind or carry; I'll cut the cancer out of the Brotherhood and follow you to the Castle afterwards.

When she found Deacon at the entrance to the Old North Church, standing broad legged with a rifle in his hands, she knew something had gone horribly wrong. He shouldn't be here. No-one should be here. Kalyna drew her own gun and ran closer, ready to fight whoever stood in their way.

He stared at her, expression stony. 'You sold us out to the Brotherhood,' he said when she was within hearing range. 'The fucking holier-than-thou Brotherhood. Why would you betray us? Betray me?'

'Oh, God, Deacon.' Suddenly, she was afraid. Kalyna was almost confident he wouldn't shoot her, but she was scared for the rest of them. 'What the hell are you doing here, why are you not at the Castle? Where are the others?'

For a moment, the pained expression on Deacon's face was replaced by confusion. Then there was anger. 'Do you think I'm an idiot? I was standing right next to you when you talked to Kells, making a point of how he and Maxson should join in on the fun! Their very best to get rid of us! And as if that wasn't enough, you've got their goddamn super-weapon online! For all I know, you tipped them off to our HQ's location, too. If by some miracle this was a game, you played it so well that you leave me no options. I can't let you get to the church. This ends now.' He aimed at her, and if he fired, she was dead. Deacon wasn't the kind that missed. But normally, he wasn't the type to offer such an elaborate speech before he fired, either.

Kalyna let her weapon fall and raised both hands. 'Deacon, you said you trust me. Now's the moment to prove that was more than just another lie.'

'I've swallowed enough lies myself. Ironic, but true.'

Kalyna knew Deacon too well. He wasn't about to shoot. She saw it in the muzzle that wasn't really aiming at her anymore, heard it in the tone that was closer to conversational. His brief battle was done. She took a step towards him, managing to smile. 'Deacon, if you'd killed me, you wouldn't even have been able to blame me for your mistake afterwards.'

She saw the slight twitching in his lips as he lowered the gun for good. 'Help me out here. Tell me why I'm more than a lovesick simpleton.'

Taking a deep breath, Kalyna continued until she was within an arm's reach. 'The Railroad … they should be at the Castle, but with you here … Oh, God, Deacon, we've got to go in and look.'

'All right. We will, in a second. Did you find Glory?'

'Yes. She's dead. She … took her own life after a bunch of ghouls injured her. God only knows what the Brotherhood did to her before that. She'll be recovered and buried.'

Deacon swallowed thickly. 'Whisper … I'm sorry. And a damaged, paranoid part of me is still a bit scared of you, and I'm sorry for that, too. I want to believe you. I want you to be on our side.' He opened his arms. 'Come here?'

Kalyna stepped into his embrace and was held tight. 'We've got to make sure they're not in there, Deacon.'

He just held her, the tension slowly draining out of his body. 'You've got no idea how hard it is to even find sleep without your head on my shoulder and your hand right here.' He put her hand over his heart. 'I missed you so much. Feels like so much more than … what? Two days?' With an effort, he removed himself from her. 'So. Feeling better. What if they are in the church?'

'If they're in the church, they're dead. And you will blame me and kill me.'

Deacon looked down at her. 'I highly doubt that. Go grab your gun. And if they are all dead we'll find who's responsible. Because … there's no fucking way it's you. I can't be that wrong.'

The church was a mess. There was blood everywhere, in the main room, the corridor, the HQ itself. There was one survivor there, a young woman with hatred in her eyes. She raced to Kalyna and Deacon, both in Brotherhood uniform. 'It was a trap! We need to search all the data and find them and … they all need to die!' Deacon shot her without hesitation.

They inspected the bodies, finding only raiders and members of the Brotherhood. Maxson and Kells and their followers, but also soldiers that needn't have died. Kalyna had told them the Railroad was weakened enough to be assaulted with only a handful, what with only four members left. Instead, the small group had encountered the raiders sent in by Clarke, outnumbering the Brotherhood by far.

'What on earth happened here?' Deacon muttered, taking in the sight. 'Where is everyone? Castle?'

'I hope so.' She put a hand on Deacon's chest. 'Thanks, Deacon. For your confidence.'

'You being sarcastic? I feel like an arse for thinking even for a second you could be a traitor. Felt like that from the start when I went out to spy on you of all people. Any chance you tell me what the hell your plan is?' He stepped over the corpse of a Brotherhood soldier. A holotape lay in the centre of the big table. 'Now what is that, I wonder.' He handed it to Kalyna, who slipped it into her pip-boy with a meaningful glance at Deacon.

'Ah … is this thing recording?' The sound of Carrington's voice was distorted, resembling old, pre-war tapes. 'Anyway, this is the Richardson family. We're out on a vacation. Leave a message and we'll get back to you.' His words were even followed by the obligatory beep of an old answering machine.

'The Richardson family. Oh, God, Carrington has a sense of humour, who would've thunk.' Deacon grinned. 'It seems you're right. They are in the Castle, and they let us know.'

Kalyna giggled. 'Great. My plan is to return to the airport, cut off any communication with whatever arm the Brotherhood has outside the Commonwealth, if there even still is any. Land the Prydwen, integrate the Brotherhood into the Minutemen. Have them work with us, not against us. Did I miss the part where the Railroad people have picked Richardson as a family name? Deacon Richardson?'

'No. Mr B will be fine.'

'I … don't even want to know.'

'You really think this mad plan of yours will work, don't you?'

'I got the Railroad to evacuate. With a message I meant you to translate. So, yeah, after that, nothing can go wrong. I'm just glad that I didn't send you a written Ukrainian note.'

'Oh, boy, you sure take calculated risks to a whole new level. Nothing new there, though. Ukrainian would have been safer. I taught P.A.M. a bit, maybe enough to translate that, and that's definitely the first thing they'd have tried.'

'Oh. Well, no matter. It worked, didn't it?'

'Because you played it right, even with the minor snag of me not having been here. Carrington worked it out, probably. He's not one of my favourite people, but at least he's a great strategist. It's what he would have done. Congrats, you may finally have his respect.' They stepped outside, glad to be in the comparatively fresh air. 'Know what? Unless you … or Dez for that matter … think that's a very bad idea, I'd suggest we stay in the Castle.'

'Pretend we're done?'

'Yeah. Until the dust settles, at least. Hiding in plain sight is a change of tactics, and it's high time for one.'

'Good idea.'

'Yeah. My first in the past few days.'

'No. The first was not to shoot me.' Deacon cringed, and she hooked her arm into his. 'I understand, you know. I'm a bit hurt, but I understand.' She nudged his ribs. 'Hey. Deacon, it's all right.'

'Ah, Whisper. I'll be better when we're back at home with Shaun and the rest. Until then let me beat myself up a bit. I've got years of practice, after all.'

((The Richardson/Mr B thing is taken from Samuel Richardson's Pamela, or Virtue Rewarded, an 18th century novel.))