"Mouse, look at him while he's speaking to you. It's rude not to."

Timidly, she lifted her eyes. Before her stood the Overseer, smiling down at her with a little mechanical ring in his hands. "S-Sorry, sir," she stammered, and quickly looked back at her feet.

Laughing, the man straightened and held out the object toward her. She ignored it, and a hand reached over her shoulder and plucked it up. "She hasn't changed much in ten years, James. Still as shy as ever. Give this to her?"

"Of course, sir. Thank you very much."

The Overseer smiled again, turned, and walked across the room to speak with some other adult. Her father's hand rested on her shoulder, and she turned and glanced up at him.

"I'm sorry, Dad," she whispered. "I know I shouldn't be so rude to the Overseer."

"Nonsense, Mouse; he knows how you are." Her father smiled warmly and crouched so he was at her level. "Are you ready for your Pip-Boy now?"

Mouse hesitated, eyeing the metal and electronic contraption her father held. Everybody had one. For some reason, she really didn't want one. "I-I guess so…"

Her father chuckled. "I know you want to say no. Sorry, Mouse, everyone has to have one." Gently, he pulled her arm away from her chest and fitted the device snugly around her forearm. She watched in silence as he locked it together and pressed a button. Instantly, green images and numbers lit up, and the thing was active.

"There you go. Your very own." The corner of his mouth tilted upward, and he quickly ruffled her fine blonde hair. Mouse stifled a giggle and pulled away. "You're allowed to laugh," he jokingly admonished. "It's your birthday. Tenth birthdays don't come around again. Trust me, I know."

Mouse smiled.

"Go talk to your friends," her father encouraged. "Be young."

Obediently, she turned away. There was nobody here she even wanted to talk to, except maybe Amata, and even she was the Overseer's daughter. Butch and his cronies were huddled on a booth together in the middle of the room; adults were scattered about. There were, what, five, six kids there total?

With a sigh, Mouse trudged silently toward Amata, who was scowling at the mess of a cake on the counter. "Hi, Amata," she greeted softly.

Amata turned and beamed. "Happy birthday, Mouse! This is so exciting! You finally get your own Pip-Boy!"

Mouse grimaced at the whirring, beeping thing clamped on her forearm. "Oh, lucky me. Does this come off easily?"

"I don't know; I've never tried. I'm scared to, since my dad's the Overseer." Amata's eyes suddenly widened. "Oh, jeez, Butch's coming. Duck, Mouse."

She tried to turn to see what Butch would do, but she was shoved forward into Amata before she could even try.

"Hey, Mouse," a boy's voice sneered. "Think you're all big and tough now that you're ten? Big freaking deal." Butch DeLoria came around her and scowled. Grabbing up her wrist and making her whimper quietly, he laughed and held her arm toward his friends. "Look at her Pip-Boy. It's older than this Vault."

The boys around them burst into loud laughter, and two of them punched Mouse in the arm, hard enough to make her stumble into Butch. He pushed her back into one of his friends, and her heel caught on a toe. With a squawk, she toppled to the floor and landed heavily on her bottom.

"Go away, Butch," Amata said courageously.

"Yeah? And what're you gonna do about it? Call your daddy?"

Mouse peered up at Butch as he scowled down at her. "G-Go away, B-Butch," she murmured. "W-We didn't do anything…"

The boy started to open his mouth, but a sharp call from Officer Gomez made him quickly shut it. Glowering at Mouse, he pointed one grubby finger at her and muttered, "I'll get you for this, Mouse."

"Butch!"

He rolled his eyes and started toward the door of the cafeteria. Mouse's eyes followed him, and her shallow breathing calmed as he left the room with his cronies behind him.

Amata plopped down beside her and glared at the door as Butch left. "Just ignore him, Mouse. He's just jealous."

Shutting her eyes and rubbing her face in her palms, Mouse whispered, "Of what? He has a mother still." But it was too soft for Amata to hear.

"He's just a bully anyways. Hey, are you listening to me? Mouse!"

—

Her eyes snapped open. A grimy aluminum panel was above her, serving as a ceiling. Shaking gently, she pushed the grubby, prickly blankets off her body and wandered to the window. A glorious orange sunrise silhouetted the city of Megaton in black; the horizon shimmered with heat and radiation still floating in the air. Bronze, cinnamon, gold, even some smudgy violent at the bottom of the sky; it was the second sunrise she had ever seen in her life, and like the first, it was unforgettable. Nothing in her old home could have caught the awe of it. It would be a beautiful day.

A sigh as she turned and pulled on her jumpsuit; the images of her dream were still burned in front of her eyes, making it impossible for her to enjoy anything about the day. The torture of her childhood seemed so real as she slept; it was almost as if she was reliving it once more.

She shook her head. The jumpsuit was soft and worn, after so many years in her possession. Same with her boots; the ancient BB gun dangling from her hip. She dipped her hands into her pockets and her fingers brushed an aging piece of paper with frayed edges, folded up beside a compact audio recorder. A poem and her father's voice; two things she kept with her at all times.

Slowly, she zipped up the front of her jumpsuit. Well, this was it. She might as well go downstairs to the tavern and ask her questions, let her voice be heard.

Speak for the first time since she arrived in Megaton three days prior—since her escape from Vault 101.