I'm going to kill MacCready.

The sarcastic, impulsive, self-involved, selfish bastard.

Last night I found him in a bar, which to be fair isn't a great place to meet reliable people. And of course, he just had to have baggage. He was a part of a cult. Or, not a cult, but something like a cult. The Gunners, who are like Raiders except organized and like a cult with how MacCready describes them. Winlock and Barnes, those guys in the Third Rail last night? They want his blood. And here's me fresh out the Vault, with minimal knowledge of how to use a gun or how to defend myself and I just had to find him. Nice kid, Daisy told me. Please.

Back to MacCready and the reason I'm going to kill him.

Basically, it boils down to him asking questions.

After we left Goodneighbor, he starts spitting them out like it's his calling in life. What's your name? Elenora. What's with the vault suit you were wearing last night? I stole it. It's not mine. Then how'd you get the Pip-boy? Stole that too. What's up with the teddy bear, I saw you cuddling with it last night? Shut up.

Was it wrong to lie about my time in Vault 111? Maybe, but that's my baggage. And I don't want him knowing about it.

How old is he anyway? He couldn't be older than twenty five. Young by pre-war standards, middle aged by the new ones.

Outside in Boston Commons, it's cold as hell because it's the end of October and the universe thought to itself: 'Hey, why settle for having a doomed woman when we can have a cold, miserable doomed woman? Much more satisfying!' I mean, why did I have to thaw out during the winter months? Couldn't I have popped out when it was warm and sunny? For the same reason Shaun was taken from me, I guess; I pissed off someone in Heaven.

I sent Dogmeat back to Sanctuary. He'll find his way. The dog knows his way around the Commonwealth better than I do.

We're halfway to Park Street sitting behind a flipped car taking a water break when MacCready asks what we can expect inside the station. I repeat back what Ellie told me, "This guy named Skinny Malone's holding this detective hostage, but I think-"

"Hold up," MacCready interrupts. "Tell me you didn't just say Skinny Malone."

I frown, "why, what's wrong?"

MacCready grumbles something...unintelligible, and pinches his thumb and index finger in-between the bridge of his nose, sighing he says, "Okay. Let me explain this to you; Remember when I said I worked with the Gunners?" He says everything very slowly with long pauses between words, like he's talking to a toddler. He did that to me. Me! I subconsciously add it to the list of why I'm going to kill him. He goes on, "Well, running with them, you tend to know the bigwigs behind the other factions, get it? And Skinny Malone is fu...fricking crazy! Why are we doing this again?"

"The detective, remember?" I say dryly.

He groans. Again. "Tell me we're getting paid for it."

I roll my eyes. Then I blink, "actually, I don't know. I walked out before we discussed payment."

MacCready's jaw drops, "So, we're not even… Okay, why are we doing this, boss?"

"I don't know," I say. Translation: I don't want to tell you. Then, after two breaths, "because it's the right thing to do."

MacCready's eyes narrow, "nobody does anything because it's the right thing to do."

"Fine!" I yell, calling my bluff. Then, quieter in case someone's around. "Fine, it's not that. I just need the detective, okay?"

"Okay," he says, raising his arms in defeat. "Do you know anything else about this job?"

I nod, "I think Malone's operating inside a Vault."

MacCready blinks, I can see the fire manifest itself in his eyes. "What. Else."

I throw my hands up, "That's it! I need an experienced shooter for this job, so I got you, okay? So stop asking questions and do what I paid you to do!" Then I'm so angry, at him, at my situation, at how I'm handling it, that I wanted to punch his stupid face in.

But I don't, instead I stand up, pull my sack on my shoulders, and walk on. I call out for MacCready, and in time, I hear his footsteps behind me.

We walk for a while, him trailing behind me, me leading. Then we reach the subway station, and I see a few Triggerman guarding the stairway in. I pull MacCready behind an abandoned bus and say, "When things go to shit out there, and they will, you keep yourself and me protected. That's it, that's the whole job."

"I know how to shoot, boss," he says, loading the rifle.

"Then prove it," I spit. "Stay smart and keep your gun loaded."

Where is this coming from? It's like I'm channeling all of my anxiety out into him. Maybe it's just a result of me finally having someone to talk to and releasing my tension on him. I don't know. Maybe there's some sort of symbolism in me becoming more aggressive, but it's early, I haven't showered in weeks, and I haven't slept properly in, like, three days so forget it. I'm not thinking about it.

We pop out of hiding, and the bullets fly. The Triggermen. Damn, are they good shooters. I'm glad I've got MacCready.

We're in the Subway station finally, and MacCready takes point and shoots off any Triggermen coming our way. I felt a surge of sadness cross me every time I heard the shot firing. I was commanding lives to end. I know it's for survival but- damn, I just really hated it.

We get farther into the subway, heading down an abandoned tunnel when we see the doors to the Vault. I use my Pip-boy to open the Vault. Once we're inside, I let MacCready take the lead, while I follow him, using my pistol to protect him.

We push through the Vault. No time to think it through. We were lucky coming in that I didn't die, but it's not about luck anymore. Luck's not gonna get us to Valentine. Being hardcore, being fierce, shooting at the right time- That's what works. That's how we're surviving this.

So that's what we do. Right up until we're both in the room where the Triggermen are keeping Valentine, inside the Overseer's office. I hear the faint sounds of a conversation as MacCready and I sneak up the stairs. Once we're at the top, I order MacCready to shoot the man guarding the office. As he squeezes the trigger, I remind myself:

It's about being hardcore, Elenora. It's about being fierce. No morals in the face of survival. Besides, survival vs. morals? I already know who wins that battle. This isn't some court-house quarrel on who's right. This is your son's life.

The man falls dead. I smile at MacCready, thanks.

Walking up to the window inside, I knock on the glass. He notices, "Hey, you. I don't know who you are, but we've got three minutes before they realize muscle for brains isn't coming back. Get this door open!"

I can't hack terminals for shit, and something's telling me MacCready can't either. "Do you know the password?" I shout.

And Valentine, through the window, "if I knew it, do you really think we'd be having this conversation?"

Oh yeah. Geez, for a lawyer, I wasn't good on my feet.

Maybe I could shoot the lock? Nope, not gonna work, Vault-tec doesn't believe in the stability of manually locked doors, only control pads. Then, I get the bright idea to check the dead man's pockets. Ugh, dead man's pockets. That sounds like there should be a saying for that.

Bingo. I find an old holotape and plug it in the terminal. It works, I cross into the room, and find Valentine rubbing a lit cigarette out with his foot. His face is… strange, for lack of a better word. All grey and plastic looking, metal and torn. And the brightest yellow glowing eyes you'd ever seen. "Gotta love the irony of the reverse damsel-in-distress scenario," He drawls. "Question is, why did our heroine risk life and limb for an old private eye?"

I felt MacCready's eyes on me, and I really didn't want him knowing about Shaun yet. That's my baggage. "It's complicated," I say. "I need someone found, but I don't know where they are or how long they've been gone."

Nick nods, "Well, I've done jobs with less. Anyways, you've got troubles and I'll help, but now ain't the time. Let's get out of this Vault, first, then we'll talk."

(-)

We had company waiting for us when Nick unlocked the door. Skinny Malone, the mob boss, his girlfriend and three other Triggermen are waiting for us on the other side. Malone steps forward, a huge gun in his hands. Skinny as a nickname was pretty ironic seeing as how I hadn't seen someone with that much meat on their bones since 2077. Ah 2077. I miss you. Miss you so bad.

I was still kind of buzzed from the heat of the battle that I wasn't paying much attention to what he said. I think he got mad at Valentine, and then he started arguing with his girlfriend. I don't know, but then I snapped back into it when Malone started yelling.

"This ain't the old neighborhood, Nicky. In this Vault, I'm king of the castle, you hear me? And I ain't letting some private dick shut us down now that I finally got a good thing going. What makes you think I'm just gonna let you walk?"

Who did this apocalyptic version of Al Capone think he was?

I know I'm terrible with weapons and fighting. But, I could fight with words, with my mind. I say, "Yeah, okay, Bugsy. We're gonna walk, and you aren't gonna shoot. Wanna know why? Because ammo is expensive, and nobody makes ammo anymore. Plus blood is a hard stain to get rid of, believe me, I know. And Nick Valentine is the shit back in Diamond City, and unless the Triggermen want a war with Diamond City goons, you'll put your guns down." I say. Is Nick Valentine the shit back in Diamond City? Hell if I know, but I'm hoping they don't.

"You know what you are?" Malone growls, "you're a smug, over-confident ass! Argh! Alright, you get to the count of ten, I still see your face after that, I'm gunning both of you down!"

We didn't waste our time. And MacCready, Valentine and I are seeing daylight within ten minutes.

(-)

"Ah, look at that Commonwealth sky. Never thought something so naturally ominous could look so inviting," Valentine says as we're walking out of the subway tunnel. "Thanks for getting me out. But how'd you do it? Not many people would know where to find me."

"Ah, your secretary… The girl with the scarf and pink skirt." I forgot her name.

Nick smiles, "I need to give that girl a raise," he chuckles. "I want you to come to my office in Diamond City. Give me all the details of your case, we'll go from there."

"I'll meet you there."

"See you in Diamond City." He says. Then he's gone.

MacCready and I stand in the center of the Boston Commons. I turn towards him and smile gratefully, "You really held your own in there."

MacCready scoffs and adjusts his hat, "I told you I was good."

I smile, "Well, I'd be lying if I said you weren't," I say. After a beat, "So, I guess you'll be wanting to head back to Goodneighbor."

MacCready shrugs and rubs the back of his neck, "Well… To be honest you're the first work I've had in weeks. And Goodneighbor is starting to wear it's welcome." Then he adds dryly, "Plus, I think you'd die without me."

If it's supposed to be a joke, I don't laugh. "So you're still interested in traveling together?"

"If you want me, boss."

I smile, really smile- "Welcome to the team, MacCready. I'll make jackets."

We walk back to Diamond City together, talking about a bunch of nothing. I say, "So, this is gonna come as a shock, but I've never had a mercenary before."

He snorts, "no shit." He says, then adding quickly, "Uh, I mean… that's pretty obvious, boss."

"So what am I supposed to do?" I ask. "If you saved my life today, so shouldn't I know something about you?"

"Like what?"

"Like… what's your favorite color?"

"Green."

"Red. Favorite DCR song?"

"The Wanderer. Yours?"

"The End of the World. Great song."

"Are we interviewing each other?" He asks.

"Something like that."

"What position am I applying for?"

"More-trusted-mercenary," I sneer. Then, "Okay, partner."

He jabs my elbow, "Aww, but I thought I already had the job."

"Don't be so sure, you arrogant son of a bitch."

"Nice mouth," he chuckles. "Do I get to ask a question now?"

"Shoot."

"What's up with the teddy bear?" He asks.

I shrug, shoving my hands in my coat pockets. "I dunno, I just like 'em. They're cute."

MacCready narrows his eyes, "Alright, don't tell me."

Damn, this boy was astute.

We're back in Diamond City around 5. Since it's October, the sun sets more quickly now. There's more of a clump of people around the marketplace since the shops will be closed soon. I say to MacCready, "This place used to be called Fenway, and they used to play baseball here…" I trail off, not wanting to say much else on the subject.

"Didn't know you were a history buff, boss." MacCready says.

I twist my wedding band around my finger, "yeah, I read it in a book somewhere."

We pass by the Publick on our way to the Agency, I gulp and put my head down, hoping beyond hope that Piper wasn't around, or that she hadn't published my article yet. Why had I done that? Get interviewed? Make the whole world experience my tragedy? I didn't want that, I just wanted help.

I walk by quickly, passing into the backway alleys that led to Valentine's. Once we're there, I realize that I really didn't want MacCready there for him to hear all about what happened in 111. I tell him to wait outside.

"Is everything okay?" He asks.

I take a breath and reach for the door handle. "It will be," I say. More for me than him that I said that. "Just… wait over by Power Noodles. I'll be out in a few minutes."

He adjusts his hat; he's not comfortable with it, but he's not arguing either. "Alright, boss. Whatever you say," then he leaves. I turn, and enter Valentine Detective Agency.

When I'm inside, Ellie Perkins, the secretary pays me a hundred for 'saving her job'. Nick makes me sit down and has me describe who I was looking for. I don't hold anything back, I tell him all about Shaun. He asks where he was kidnapped, I waste no time describing 111. How'd it happen? It's hard, but I get through it. I describe Nate's murder, how he died protecting our son. The murderers? That might be harder. The hair on the back of my neck stands up while I describe the scarred man, the one I'll never forget. The scar catches Nick's attention, "You didn't hear the name Kellog, did you?"

"If I did, you'd know. Why, who is he?"

Ellie pulls up a file on Kellog. My description fits; Bald, scar over left eye, dangerous mercenary, but no known employer. And he's got a house in the city. I put a hand on my 10mm. "He's here in the city?" I ask, my heart dares to pump right out of my chest.

"Yes, but he left almost a month ago," Ellie says. Almost a month ago? The same time I've been out of the Vault! I'm coming Shaun. "But he didn't have a baby with him, just a kid. He looked to be… Maybe ten years old?"

My heart sinks, "Ten?" I say, "Maybe Kellog's stealing other kids."

"Let's not jump to any conclusions," Nick tells me. "But I bet we can snoop around his house, find out where he was going. Maybe track him down."

"Let's go now," I say, jumping out of my seat.

"Hold on," Nick says. "If it's someone like Kellog's house, chances are, he wouldn't leave it unlocked. You got any skill in lockpicking?"

I almost laughed, "that's cute."

Nick says, "Maybe you can get a spare key from the Mayor's office?"

"I'll head there now." I grab my pack and I head out before he can offer anything else. I couldn't afford to waste time; Every second I was losing was time that Shaun was with that homicidal maniac and not me.

I avoid the Noodle Stand and head up straight for the elevator. I press the button and ride the lift all the way to the top. But somebody's already occupying the office.

"Why doesn't the mayor come out of his office, huh?" Piper grills this blonde lady, pounding her fist on the table, pointing a finger at her face. "He afraid of talking to the press? I bet if I said I was with the Institute, he'd come running."

"You ever think maybe you could get a man's attention if you used softer words, honey? Maybe shout a little less?" The woman was handling her.

"Ah, that reminds me of this article I'm writing about the mayor's affair with a certain air-headed, blonde…" Piper rolls her eyes and backs off the desk. Then she locks eyes with face. I tried to keep my cool, but I think my face betrayed me. Piper folds her arms, "O-oh, look who it is, my favorite popsicle. What brings you to the mayor's office, huh?"

"What are you doing here?" I say, waving my hand at the mayor's assistant.

"Trying to find out why the mayor happens to be meeting the same suspicious looking courier every other week," She practically yells it, so even the guards can hear. The assistant rolls her eyes, "are you done yet, Piper? Because if there is someone here with an actual complaint…"

Piper spins around, "You hear me, Geneva, when I get to the bottom of this, the people of Diamond City will be the first to know. And believe me, they'll start asking questions."

She adjusts her cap and faces me, then she takes me across the room and speaks to me quietly. "Blue, where'd you go? I thought we were traveling together," she looks me up and down. "Whoa, what happened to your leg?"

"Can we talk about this later?" I ask, "maybe I can come to the Publick later tonight."

Piper scrunches her nose, "not so fast. You walked out on me. What happened?"

I can see with perfect vision the man being shot by the guard. I cringe, "I'll explain. Just not now, okay?"

She rolls her eyes, and crosses her arms. She chews absently on a piece of gum, "Fine. But I want answers." Piper looks back at Geneva and says loudly enough that even the guards can hear, "Hey, Geneva? I'm leaving now, so you can drop the constipated look you've got on your face."

Geneva whips out a nail file, looking bored, "Going back to your little hovel, Piper? What's it feel like knowing you'll never be an upper stands girl?"

Piper walks over to the elevator and steps on the platform. "Oh I'm not going home, Geneva! I'm heading to go get myself a bottle of blonde hair dye from the Super Salon! Ooh, or maybe I could save on caps and raid your house."

"Cute, Piper. Think of that yourself?"

"Ugh, go fix your eyebrows," she sneers. Piper presses the button and she's gone.

Geneva's eyes widen, but she shakes the horror off her face eventually. "You'll have to excuse Piper," she says. "She has this terrible habit where she says everything she's thinking. Anyways, you came up here for something?"

"Yeah, this man named Kellog has a house here. I need his house key."

"Oh! Right to the point then," she smiles. "Sorry, that doesn't happen much in public works. Well, I can't help you. Kellog was a private citizen."

"Oh, I know," I lie. "I'm his wife, I need my stuff back."

Geneva makes this face, "I didn't know Kellog was married."

I show her my wedding band. The ring that belongs to the man Kellog brutally murdered. "He doesn't like to talk about his personal life much, though, does he?" That's a gamble. There's the biggest possibility that Kellog is a chatty mercenary. "Anyway, I left the rest of my clothes in our home and I really want to change, and I lost the spare getting back here. The key?"

"I suppose he doesn't," Geneva shrugs. She reaches into her desk drawer and places a small key on the table. Shit, Piper was right, this woman wasn't that bright. "Sorry for the wait."

I take the key from the table. I thank her and ride the elevator out. While riding down, I see Geneva staring at a small mirror, examining her eyebrows instensely.

I bring Kellog's house key back to the Agency. I slap it on his desk confidently. Nick looks at his thoughtfully, chewing on the end of his cigarette. "If we're heading into Kellog's house, we'll be searching pretty heavily for clues. Which means we'll need a good nose. You got a dog?"

I felt like kicking myself. I had sent Dogmeat away only hours ago. "I do. Do we really need him?"

"You wanna find Kellog?"

"If I get my dog, do you promise you'll stay in the city long enough for me to return?"

"On my honor."

Back to Sanctuary.

(-)

I found MacCready later that evening chowing down on a bowl of Power Noodles. I slap him on the back and take a seat next to him. "Mmpm- Boss!" His mouth full with noodles, he gulps, "where have you been?"

I take off my pack and set it by my feet. ""We got paid for rescuing Valentine."

"Haw, really?" He grins, "how much?"

"One hundred," I say. I split it up, passing him fifty. He takes it all in one swoop, staring at them in his palms. He asks in disbelief, "I get half?"

I shrug, "you did your job well. Consider it this week's payment."

He pockets it gladly, "It's starting to look like hanging with you was the right choice." He orders me a bowl of noodles, which I'm so grateful for. I've been craving for warm food for forever in this wasteland.

Since I've come out of the vault, I've had more cravings than I did pregnant, but this time, always with things I'll never taste again. Hot cheesy pizza. Warm chocolate chip cookies. Cheeseburgers. Steak and eggs. No, steak and eggs was still a possibility. I'd have to find a Brahmin, slaughter it, butcher it, cure the meat, grill it up. Find the eggs some place else. If nothing else, the possibility of steak and eggs gives me hope.

"So," MacCready says, slurping down his broth. "Is Valentine helping us?"

"It's kind of more complicated than that," I say, stirring my food around. "We need to make a trip back to this settlement out north, I need to get Dogmeat back."

"Why do you need the dog?"

"Valentine thinks it'll help with the case," I say. I got quiet all of the sudden. I didn't feel like talking anymore. "It doesn't matter, I'm willing to whatever I have to."

We sat there in silence, around the chatter and bustle of Diamond City at sunset. Then, after several minutes of talkless eating, MacCready says, "It's your husband, isn't it?" MacCready purses his lips. "He's the one who's missing."

I blush. "What are you talking about?"

"I saw your ring back in Goodneighbor, and the way you seemed so panicked to find a detective..." He flicks his eyes down to my hands, "if he's the one who's missing, I'll help you find him."

I open my mouth to say something, but I close it quickly. I twist my ring around my finger, "I'm not looking for my husband." I whisper, "He's… well, gone. For lack of a better term." My voice cracks on 'gone'.

"Oh, my gosh. I didn't...Hey, I'm really sorry," he winces. We sat there in utter silence. It was depressing. Then after two beats, "We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. I'll leave it alone."

I muster a smile, "Thanks, MacCready."

Talking about something so personal, and having it treated with respect makes me feel more comfortable around him. Once we're done with dinner, I give MacCready some caps and tell him to buy a room at the Dugout. "I gotta meet someone in town. I'll be back in ten."

I head over to the Publick, anxious to tell Piper about that synth shooting I saw yesterday. I knock on the door, and Piper takes her damn time getting to the door. When she does, she ushers me inside, "Blue! Get it, you'll never believe what I just figured out."

Apparently, Piper heard the whole story before I could tell her. She's going off about it, clicking a pen in her hands, chewing wildly on a piece of bubblegum. "And get this! The man convicted of being a synth wasn't even let free! It's been a day and he's still in jail. The guards said for 'questioning' but anyone who can read between the lines can see that's a damn lie. My question is, why? Why are the guards keeping him for so long?"

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about," I say. "I was right about to head here when I saw that man die. I guess I got scared and ran off. Plus, I figured you needed to stay here and work on your paper. Speaking of, have you… finished my article yet?"

Piper shakes her head, "Sadly, no. I still need to edit it… Why, you want me to add something?"

"Not that," I say. "I want you to not publish it."

Piper pauses, then chuckles, "I don't think I heard you right, Blue. You want me to do what now?"

"Please Piper," I beg. "I know you've got that thing about the truth or whatever, but I want this to remain my truth. I don't want it published."

"But why?" Piper asks, "Blue, you had great quotes, a good story. Why not have the people of Diamond City root for you along the way?"

I tried to offer her money but she wouldn't hear of it. She just wanted answers. I tell her the truth. I tell her I didn't want my whole life in print for someone's viewing pleasure, that I didn't want to make the whole city experience my tragedy. That I didn't want anyone else know that I didn't personally tell. And Piper, despite being Piper understands. She tells me I owe her big for wasting so much time writing the damn thing, and that she deserved lunch one day. I promise it to her and she lets me leave. I'm thankful, but honestly I think she did it because she pitied me. Whatever, as long as my sob story isn't out into the world.

Back at the Dugout, MacCready' s gotten us a room, one with two twin beds so we can both get a bed tonight. I'm glad to have my own room again. Well, not my own room. I'll never have that again.

Oh screw self-pity. The world doesn't revolve around you. And screw guilt. You aren't the one that shot Nate. And while you're here, screw grief. Crying over your husband won't bring him back.

I fall asleep better that night, having a dreamless night.