Fiction: Fallout 4

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Ash, the sole survivor of Vault 111, moves on with her life after the death of her husband and the kidnapping of her son, Shaun. Though she enjoys helping the Minutemen in Sanctuary, she can't help but want to search for her son.

Category: Chapter One

Disclaimer: I do not lay claim to any of the following work. While the writings themselves are my own, my character is created fully by myself, the other characters and story elements I do not own. I also do not own any of the Fallout 4 elements that are in play. Full credit goes to where it is due. Thank you. Thanks to Bethesda.

My voice was hoarse from lack of use, from screaming at the top of my lungs, from begging and pleading as the man placed a pipe pistol to my husband's head. Nate's arms were wrapped protectively around our baby, our Shaun, shouting for them to leave, to back off. My knuckles bloodied from pounding on the cryogenic tube that had just released me from my frozen sleep.

Don't take him… Don't take my baby… Please, take me instead, but leave him!

My pleas melded uselessly against uncaring ears.

BAM!

The gun shot ripped through the air, blood splattering the tube across from me… my husband's blood. My lips were parted in silence, in shock, in terror. Nate's death not quite hitting me. I watched helplessly as Shaun was taken down the hall, out of my view. No, no, no, nononoNO!

My fingers curled around the handle to my prison, rattling the piece of shit for all I had, dry sobs torn from my lungs.

The cryogenic tube hummed to life, giving a small tired moan in the process. The vents opened once more, leaking fluid and gas into the chamber. No, not again. Please no….

But it didn't matter, resistance was futile. I had no choice.

And I returned to my bitter cold hell.

-oOo-

I awoke with a start, gasping eagerly for air, a singular sheet tangled around my legs, face and hair damp with sweat even as cold chills raked my body, adrenaline coursing through my veins. My eyes scanned the room I was in, pulse wild and uncontrolled. Recognition took some time to sink in.

Sanctuary… I was in Sanctuary. It was just a dream. I wasn't back in the tube… only reliving a memory.

I had left Vault 111 nearly a month ago. I've been searching for Shaun ever since but have made little progress. Codsworth was helpful, as were the Minutemen I had located in Concord.

A wet nose touched my hand, a low whine. "You're helpful too, boy," a warm smile curling my lips upwards regardless of the tremble as I stared down at my favorite companion – Dogmeat. I had located him at the Red Rocket station just south of Sanctuary and we had been inseparable since. I would likely go absolutely senile if it wasn't for him. Hell, I wasn't sure if I was already there and just teetering on the brink of insanity.

I rubbed a bruised and battered hand over my eyes, breathed in the disgustingly humid, heated air. The drone of the generator in the hallway filled the room. I could hear Mama Murphy singing away to Diamond City Radio 'Atom Bomb Baby' though she was so ungodly off pitch it would make a Brahmin run in the opposite direction. The smell of something cooking on the fire made my stomach groan to life.

Groggily I pulled the sheet from my limbs, stretched out my arms and stood from the cot I had created for myself out of bits of cloth and steel. I wore little more than a large fraying t-shirt, dirt and grime covering the majority of the fabric. In another life I would have been dissatisfied by the state of my clothing but there are just some things you got used to when you're in a post-apocalypse world. Other examples were raiders constantly peppering you full of bullet holes, radroaches the size of your head biting at your toes, and feeling the burn of radiation whenever you drank water that wasn't religiously purified.

Dogmeat jumped to all four, bouncing back and forth in the hallway, head stuck in the door as he watched me, tongue hanging lazily out of his mouth. "You don't mind the heat much, do you?" I asked, to which he cocked his head to the side and offered a playful yelp.

I tugged on some ratty jeans and a red plaid shirt over a white tank that was stained from god knows what. As I shoved my feet into a pair of combat boots, I tucked my long auburn hair into a pony tail, brushing back the strands that did not quite reach behind my ears. I pushed past Dogmeat who followed at my heels. Moving into the hallway, I noticed that the room next to mine was empty, meaning that the Longs were up already, likely picking mutfruit and tatos in the garden out back.

"Morning, Blue Eyes," Mama greeted from her position in the big green chair I had crafted for her when we first arrived. "Any plans for today, hmm?"

I presented a lop-sided smirk in response, shaking my head slightly "Nothing more than getting that generator over by the front gate up and running so we have some flood lights over the bridge."

"You best be careful now, don't want the others getting all worked up over you again, not after what just happened." Her gaze fell to Dogmeat, eyes twinkling in the poorly lit room. "You take good care of her now, you hear me?" He barked back in response, nose scrunching, tail wag increasing in speed. "Sturges is making breakfast, best eat before starting to work."

I nodded obediently and ducked out of the dilapidated house through the open door, the paint on it long gone. Sturges was seated at the cooking station, bent over what looked like a few hunks of radstagdoe skewered through with barbed wire pieces. It was crude, but functional. "Smells good," I commented as I moved closer, taking a seat on the cement, ignoring the way my ass protested, muscles complained, and back bitched. Sorry body, no such thing as Tylenol in this world.

"Good morning to you too, Ash. Didn't know you were awake already. Couldn't sleep?" Sturges eyed me sideways, a worried look embedded into his irises. He was concerned for my health. I couldn't blame him. I was unstable at best and reckless to the point of no return. Trigger happy paired with crazy didn't make a very survivable combo out here.

"Nah. I'm good, don't worry about it." For them, for all of these people in Sanctuary, this was normal. None of them knew what it was like pre-nuka-hell. But I did. I remember waking up and taking a hot shower, using actual soap to clean myself, brewing coffee and drinking it out of mugs that I didn't have to pick mold out of before use. I remember reading the morning paper and laughing at cartoons with my husband, of singing to Shaun in his crib, planning his future. But that was 200 years ago. And I wasn't part of that world any more.

I snatched one of the skewers off the pit, picking at the meat with my fingers and placing small chunks in my mouth before chewing. It tasted similar to venison, plus the added flavor of radiation. Yuuum. Funny, I knew so little about radiation prior to waking up in the apocalypse but I was learning quickly. It made the sun blazing hot, the air sticky and taste like metal, the water barely drinkable as it burned your throat, and coated food that wasn't fully cooked. It scorched your skin, charred your gut, and was a bitch to wash out of your clothing and hair.

A gentle hand touched my shoulder. "You doing better?"

Preston; I could recognize that voice anywhere.

"If you mean better in the sense that my sanity is in check and everything is sunshine and rainbows, not really. If you mean my busted leg? Yep." I winked up at him but was only met with apprehension.

"You had us all terrified, the way you came limping back in here, blood caked to your armor, barely able to say a word before you passed out. Had I known that sending you to Finch Farm was going to result like this, I would have sent you with backup."

"I had Dogmeat," I pointed out, gesturing with a tilt of my head towards my ever lovable companion.

Preston's lips pulled together in a thin line before he replied, "You did, however, he doesn't have a gun or any real way to protect you on patrol."

"We could always mount an automated turret to his back if it makes you feel better. I'm sure Sturges and I could come up with something."

Sturges paused for a moment, seriously considering the possibility before Preston whacked him on the back of the head. "Don't give into her ideas." The mechanic gave a cheesy, innocent smile at me as Preston continued, "We just want you safe. You've done so much for us in these past few weeks, losing you would hurt… everyone."

No, pal, it would hurt you. Specifically, you. It was no big secret that Preston cared for me though he did everything in his power to hide it. If Mama Murphy hadn't hinted at it a week ago, I probably would have gone on in ignorant bliss, too locked in my own headspace to pay attention. Was there anything wrong with Preston? Fuck no. He was kind, protective, nurturing, and helpful, if not a little stern. But it was obvious he cared. But that didn't mean that I could shake off the fact that I lost my husband a month ago… or at least, what felt like a month ago. Honestly, I'm not even sure how long ago I watched Nate die in that Vault on the hill. However long it was, I clearly wasn't over it, the wedding band on my left hand a symbol of that. I should move on, that's what I told myself. But, not yet.

"I'll be more careful, Preston. I promise." I gave a reassuring grin and an enthusiastic thumbs up. He sighed heavily but seemed to lose some of the tension in his shoulders as he took a seat next to me.

The Longs joined us shortly thereafter along with several of the other settlers in Sanctuary. Some of them were farmers, others manned the wooden guard posts, and a select few ran the shops over on the foundation west of the main building. They sold odds and ends from the caravans that stopped through the settlement every few days – ammo, provisions, armor pieces, food that wasn't entirely destroyed by radiation, and chems (though we kept those away from Mama as best as we could).

They all greeted with warm smiles and happy faces – an expression I wish I could give in return on a regular basis but I struggled to even reply with a genuine welcome. I knew this was all normal for them, that this was the life they were born to. I was the abnormal one, the freak, the odd woman out.

Even after a month it was difficult for me to remember that.

-oOo-

"Screwdriver," Sturges requested, hand outstretched towards me as I gave the tool a small toss to him.

I unwound the coil of copper from my belt, snaking one end around the spotlight in front of me. I had already built up my fair share of calluses making a once painful task, simplistic.

"Wrench," he called again.

"Fuck, why don't you just take all the tools while you're at it?" I quipped, grumbling as I rummaged in the red metal box at my feet, locating the item he was demanding and handing it over.

"Because this is practically the only form of communication we can get from you, so I might as well keep at it right?"

I snorted, lifting the spotlight into position. I made my way to the generator, careful to make sure the wire in my hands was taut and untangled. Using clippers, I snipped it at the spot I needed, connecting it to the generator as Sturges finished up the repairs.

"Okay… that should…" he started, stepping away from the machine, "… do it," and he flipped the switch. The little beast jumped to life, buzzing away merrily as if it was never broken to being with.

"Perfect, as always," I congratulated. The spotlight began to swivel in its spot, light on and ready to provide coverage when night fell. "Try to sneak up on us now, raiders," I mocked.

Sturges began to gather his equipment, tucking tools back in the red crate. I helped but my eyes kept drifting out over the bridge. "What are you thinking, Ash?" he questioned after a long pause, stopping mid-put-away to give me an unyielding look. "You're not going back out there, are you?"

My lips parted to reply but he didn't give me a chance before cutting in, "You know Preston doesn't want you to leave the settlement till your leg is fully healed."

"It's fi-"

"Stop lying, Ash. You've hardly put any weight on it all day and you do this little wince whenever you do. Why are you so hell bent on returning to the wasteland?"

"Because…" I ran a hand through my hair, eyes scanning the horizon. "Because Shaun is out there somewhere and I have to get to him. I can't just sit around here, waiting for an infant to find me. I don't know about this time but, 200 years ago, babies weren't born with the ability to walk or ask for directions to their mothers…" I didn't mention that being with the Minutemen wasn't fulfilling for me, or that I was going absolutely stir crazy with every passing second. I know I was helping a lot of good people, that Preston enjoyed my presence, and that having a belly full of albeit radiated food was better than having an empty one, but I couldn't deny that there had to be something more worth doing out there.

At least, something that would be able to distract me from Shaun more so than building structures and generators.

Sturges cursed under his breath, switching his weight from foot to foot as he played with his choices. He knew stopping me was a waste of effort on his part. But he also knew that Preston would be furious if he found out I left and Sturges had known about it. "What am I supposed to tell the lead guy?"

"Whatever you want to tell him."

"You realize that not's very helpful?"

"You realize that it won't be my problem once I'm gone?"

"How are you even going to leave without him knowing? He wakes up before everyone else and takes the final watch of the night."

"You'd be amazed how creative I can be."

He exhaled slowly. "Just… be careful, Ash."

I tilted my head towards him, a coy smirk playing across my full lips, bright blue eyes sparking with excitement. "When have I never not been?"

-oOo-

Turns out 'creative' simply meant squeezing my tiny self out of the window in my room, pack slung over one shoulder. I had crammed the bag full of stimpacks, radaway, bullets for my rifle and handgun, bandages, corn, and Fancy Lad Cakes (because they were delicious and practically the only thing I had that reminded me of my life before now). It also held some more personal belongings: Nate's ring, Shaun's teddy bear that I had managed to find buried in a pile of rubble, and a picture of the three of us the day after he was born. It was stained with rain water and mud, the edges crumpled and damaged… but I could still recognize us. I could still remember us, and how we used to be… Before… Before those men came in and ruined our lives.

Dogmeat whined, paws pattering along the base of the window frame.

"Ssshh," I hushed him, waving my hand in his general direction, couching low in the bushes and praying no one heard him. According to my PipBoy, it was a little after four in the morning. The sun, and thus heat, hadn't woken up yet, leaving the majority of the Commonwealth shrouded in darkness. The caravan owners were asleep, Brahmin conked out in their stalls, and the settlement quiet. A gentle breeze from the north occasionally tickled the back of my neck but otherwise? Complete and utter silence.

Which only amplified Dogmeat's continual pestering. "I can't take you with me!" I whispered, poking my head back through the opening to give him a once over. I understood he wasn't thrilled with the concept of me going anywhere without him but… I wouldn't get past the guards with him at my side. "I told you, follow me tomorrow afternoon when no one is looking. You can do it, you're a dog. You have scent and tracking and whatever the hell else you have up your… paw." I rolled my eyes and pressed my chin against the frame, fingers reaching over to touch Dogmeat. I get it, he's an animal and shouldn't understand a thing I'm saying but something in my gut told me he could. Or maybe I had been listening to Mama Murphy too much while she was dosed. "Please, boy, I need this. I need to get out of here. I can't find Shaun while I'm stuck here." That and I'll go crazy if I stay. I had too much time to think, too much time to dwell on what had happened. No, the longer I could keep all of those memories and heartache tucked away in the magical box at the back of my head, the better.

I'm sure a psychologist wouldn't agree with that but, last I checked, that profession wasn't really a thing anymore.

Dogmeat's tongue lapped at my fingertips, head nuzzled against my palm.

It was the best answer I was going to get.

"See you in a few days, buddy," I gave him one final pat. "You be good. Don't growl at Preston too much."

And with that, I was off.

I stayed close to the house and low to the ground. My boots were all but soundless as I skimmed along, careful not to disturb too much of the dirt and debris for fear that Preston would suddenly become a professional hunter and be able to track my foot prints. With no professional training on espionage or spy work in my resume, I had only my brief understanding of how television portrayed stealth at my disposal… which was essentially useless. Still, I managed to make it around to the back of the house without waking up every single person in Sanctuary.

I was more or less pleased with myself.

Peeking around the corner assured me no one was present though the light in Preston's room across the road was on. He was up. Somewhere.

I glanced back to the river. My goal was simple: get there.

Okay, I sucked at planning. I was great at winging it, great at thinking on my toes… but when it came to actual tactics and strategy? Yeah I fucking sucked. At least I knew where my weaknesses were. I managed to stay alive this long… I could manage to get to the other side of the damn river without getting caught.

At least that's what I kept telling myself. I wasn't super convinced yet.

I did another scan, this time towards the bridge. There were a few guards on post, I could see the barrels of their snipers from here, the moonlight just strong enough to twinkle off the shined metal. They were likely newly trained, much like all the settlers who arrived at Sanctuary. However, if they managed to scope me and thought I was a raider? I would be dead. Boom. A blood splatter against the other bank of the river.

One of the men moved further west, down along the slope and away from me. Good. The other stayed in position. Bad.

He raised his hand, waved to someone. I scanned over. Preston. Shit. Double bad.

Their voices were faded from here, inaudible. I strained to hear the tiniest bit of exchange but came up short. And Preston appeared to be staying for good, feet planted. Triple bad.

Part of me wanted to back out, parted of me wanted to scurry my sorry ass back to my bunk, curl up under the blankets, and call it a good attempt. Part of me was a chicken. But… the other part? The larger part? It knew that if I did that, I would be sentencing myself to death. This life wasn't for me. I needed more, I needed much more than what Sanctuary was providing. Yes, I was doing a ton of good, I was helping a ton of people. But I couldn't live like this anymore.

Taking in a slow breath to calm my nerves, my gaze fell back on the river.

It was not close by any stretch of the imagination. If I was too loud, they would see me. If I stumbled, they would see me. If I made too big of a splash when I entered because I was a dumb ass and slipped on a rock, they would see me.

No pressure.

I checked on Preston and the guard once more. Their backs were turned away from me, focused on something else.

I exhaled, attention returning on my goal.

Now.

I launched forward, pushing myself ahead with my momentum and racing across the open field. My hand stayed pressed against my pack, forcing it to my hip so the contents inside wouldn't juggle about. A quick look told me they were still unaware, encouraging me to pick up speed. My build was slender, my height minimal; all of it was working in my favor for once.

Within a matter of seconds I had made it to the pebble ridden shore. I tucked myself low, breath coming in controlled pants, heart drilling out a steady beat. I knelt low, fingers dusting the edge of the water. The PipBoy on my wrist prattled to life, ticking out my Geiger counter. But the guards were too far away, they wouldn't be able to hear it from their positions.

Which meant Preston too would remain in the dark.

At my spot along the river, the water was shallow, perhaps only reaching about knee height at the deepest. By the bridge? Way over my head with jarring rocks that would skewer me through if I wasn't careful. The flow was safe here, the current regular, nothing that would pull me away. It was manageable.

I stood gradually, eyes never leaving the front gate. When I was three thousand percent sure they had no fucking clue I was there, I concentrated on the task at hand.

A handful of boulders of varying degrees of slipperiness stood between me and the other bank. With a tentative approach, I reached out to the first with my right leg. When I was certain I wouldn't go into the water, I moved my weight over to it, bringing my left leg out for the next.

Just like when I was a kid, playing in the river…

I moved from rock to rock, arms spanned out at my shoulders for balance.

I could remember sitting on the shore with Nate when we were still dating. I could picture his smile, almost hear his laugh. The way his eyes would sparkle with amusement as I made a face at the frog he held out to me. We both wound up soaking wet from head to toe by the time we left and-

"Shit," I cursed, foot sliding out from under me, plummeting into the cool radiated water below.

"Did you hear something?"

"It was over there."

"I'll check it out."

I dashed out of the water, not caring for the sound I made. Pants soaked, boots heavy, skin burned and sizzled where the river kissed it. I hissed, blinking past the sharp pain.

"Someone get a light over here!" Preston shouted as he got closer.

Move, damn it!

Ignoring my new injuries, I flew across the river and tumbled onto dry land. I was on the other shoreline, speeding for the trees by the time they arrived at my starting point. I tucked myself behind an oak, the branches long since bare of their leaves and flowers, and held my breath.

My heart beat haphazardly in my chest, rhythm now chaotic and untamed. I feared they would be able to hear it.

"You see anything?"

A pause…

An agonizingly long pause.

Preston finally replied, "Nothing. Probably just a startled doe. Nothing to worry about. Raiders would have gone into the settlement, not away. Return to your posts."

I waited for their footsteps to retreat, waited until there was silence, and then I did a little bit more waiting just to be sure. And then I pried my body away from my makeshift shield, peering around the trunk to guarantee that my possible captors were gone.

But I still wasn't safe, not really. Phase one was complete but I still needed to get further from Sanctuary.

Keeping to the shadows, I began my trek southwards. I knew I wanted to get to Concord, Lexington, and Cambridge. Someone in those towns had to know something, or know of where to go to get information. I had to broaden my resources if I wanted to get anywhere.

I paused at the Red Rocket gas station, bumping open the swinging glass door with my shoulder as I entered. The place was almost unrecognizable from its former glory. The once red stools lay mangled and broken on the dirtied tiled floor. The posters were torn, images all but invisible from years of being in the sun.

Still, it was good enough. Moving to a back room, I found a suitable place to bunker down for a few hours until the sun came up. After locking the door, I dumped my pack on the ground and took a seat beside it.

Combat and I were not the best of friends. I knew little of proper shooting mechanics or even the basics. I could defend against molerats and radroaches just fine but… ghouls and raiders? Not so well. Stealth helped in some instances, allowed me to sneak by whole encounters or take people out one at a time. But it wasn't going to do a damn bit a good once I hit the cities.

I rested my head against the back wall. I could worry about it in a few hours.

For now… For now I would patch myself up and get a few winks of shut eye.

And prayed no one would find me.