Much Ado about Valentine

Note:

Hey guys, I haven't forgotten about you!

I rewrote this chapter over and over, for some reason I just wasn't satisfied with anything.
We have a few familiar faces showing up, and a lot of talk but no action.
That'll change, so enjoy this moment of relative peace before everything goes to hell.

As always, let me know what you think!

The Memory Den had never been so lively, even from Kent's room muffled shouting and arguing still won out against the radio playing in the corner, and as he curiously opened the door to peer out through the dim lighting, the sounds only became clearer. His eyes connected with Irma's, who had been agitatedly flipping through a magazine, turning the pages with more force than necessary, a cigarette burning between her fingers. They stared at each other for just a moment but it was long enough to convey a silent conversation, and the tall, thin woman shot up from her lounger with a huff, tossing an end of the feathered boa over her shoulder. She hastily stomped her way down the stairs, opening the door at the bottom which only released the full-volume of the shouting match within. The room was nearly stuffed with people, Irma had to glare over a few shoulders to even spot Doctor Amari toward the back, bent over a computer, but the rest of the group hardly even noticed her presence.

"He can't stay in Goodneighbor," Hancock was barking, his own cigarette dropping a bit of ash as he jabbed Garvey in the chest. "Think just 'cause we're freaks we got nothing to risk? My ass is still burning from that little jaunt he gave us, if he goes berserk again-"

Garvey was barely an inch from the ghoul's face, shouting back just as fiercely. "And you think he's safer at Sanctuary?! We have women and children, Hancock, same as you!"

"You got fucking turrets mounted every twenty feet!"

"And you think these turrets can just magically detect the difference between Valentine and Kellogg? You're out of your mind. I won't endanger the people who fought hard to start a new, safer life in Sanctuary. They trust the Minutemen to keep them safe, we're just now getting back on our feet-"

"If only you had- oh, I don't know- a castle filled with gun-toting farmers and enough ammunition to blow a crater in the commonwealth? Speaking of which, I don't appreciate you using my shack as target practice, that little shithole diner had a lot of good memories for me before you came along and cannoned the shit out of it." Hancock took a step back, his dark eyes narrowing at this sudden realization of trauma.

"Can we maybe not focus on gunning down Valentine?" A man wearing sunglasses indoors tried to helpfully chime in over the din of voices, though his retort was met with a fierce response from Fahrenheit who had been circling Hancock's shoulder like a leashed mongrel.

"And what, let you synth freaks drag him off to your little lair and reprogram him to do fuck-knows what? I know a synth when I see one," the redhead snapped and the explosion of voices all arguing at the same time continued, though somewhere amongst them, MacCready was helpfully singing 'Accentuate the Positive' while Dogmeat whined at his knees.

It took a few unsuccessful attempts at being heard before Irma turned to the light switch by the door, flickering it several times until the voices slowly petered out after a final 'someone touched my butt' followed by Hancock apologizing. "Need I remind you all," Irma cooed, her lilting voice still the essence of dark seduction despite the death glare she was shooting to each person individually, "this is a quiet, reverent place for reliving pleasant memories, not a raider bar hellbent on raising the dead!"

There was a collective silence before Doctor Amari looked up from her computer, having to stand a little taller to see toward the door. "Sorry, Irma," she apologized. "We'll try to keep it down." She was met with a slightly softer smile before the woman recoiled back behind the door, shutting it with a soft click before stomping back up the stairs. "I've done all I could," the doctor went on with a defeated sigh. "He's ready to come back online, but as for Kellogg's memories… there's not much I can do on my end. This goes beyond memories and interfacing, it's like the entirety of Kellogg has been stored inside Valentine, he needs someone familiar with Institute tech."

"Our best option is to have our guy take a look at him," Deacon said, edging around Garvey's back. "He's more familiar with Institute tech than anyone, he's our best chance at getting Valentine back to normal."

"Normal being spying on everyone?" the redhead hissed, taking a threatening step toward Deacon though Hancock set a heavy hand on her shoulder. "If they get hold of him, then having a psychopath taking his body for a joyride won't be his only problem, or ours."

Once in relative safety on the other side of the irritated-looking Minuteman, Deacon seemed to relax a little. "No one else has experience with synths, other than the Institute itself and they're a little more unwilling to tango with outsiders, if you know what I mean. I'd kind of rather them not have access to Valentine's memories."

"We have enough problems without the Institute being directly involved," Preston said, removing his hat for a moment to pass a hand over his head. "If we have a chance to help Valentine otherwise, then we should take it."

"The Institute is already involved," Rocky finally said, snapping out of her silent reveries as she raised her gaze to the mob before her, pushing away from the counter she had been leaning against though she kept her bandaged arm babied across her chest. "It's complicated, but Kellogg worked for them directly. If given the chance, he could contact them again and who knows what would happen, at the very least he could call in an army of synths. That's the reality of what we're dealing with, and the sooner we erase him from Nick's mind, the better."

There was another lull of silence as every pair of eyes stared at her, but Hancock was the first to speak, taking a step toward her as he flicked his ashes in the general direction of a ceramic ashtray. "So that begs the question, what were you doing messing around with the Institute's lackey? Or is that just another Tuesday for you?"

Deacon and Preston both looked pointedly at Rocky, who shrugged in response, wincing a little as her bandaged arm throbbed with the movement. "Kellogg had information that I needed and he wouldn't willingly give it, which is why… Which is why Nick had to run his memories through his own tech, that was the only way to get the information we needed. If I had known… I never would have agreed to it, if I had known the risks." Her eyes passed over Valentine's body, over his hands that had been poorly and temporarily patched up, at his closed eyes and almost peaceful expression. She let out a breath, looking up again. "Deacon was right, the Railroad knows synth tech almost as well as the Institute itself, they're our best hope of getting Valentine back to normal. However, I don't want to risk him waking up as Kellogg in the middle of their operations, so Deacon, you and I will agree on a place to meet with Tinker Tom."

"Somewhere secluded, I hope," Deacon answered, glancing toward Fahrenheit behind his sunglasses; the redhead wrinkled her nose in response.

"Preston," Rocky continued, "until we can meet with them, you and your men will escort Nick north to Sanctuary." She held up a hand as he opened his mouth to argue, furrowing his brow. "I know the risks as well as you do… if not more. Kellogg can be ruthless and unfeeling, but Nick doesn't deserve to be treated like an armed bomb to be tossed around until he goes off. I don't know who he'll be when he wakes up, and I don't know how long he'll be that person… but our first priority should be to help him. He'd do the same for any of us. Sanctuary has enough armed men to keep an eye on him, but he's always liked it there, he's always liked helping everyone out, so as long as he's still Nick, he at least will have some semblance of normalcy. Agreed?"

Preston ran his teeth over his lower lip in thought, shaking his head, though he finally looked up with a defeated sigh. "Alright, fine... But it seems to me like we should let him decide."

"Betcha one hundred caps he'll want us to chain him up out in the Glowing Sea," Hancock cut in, blowing out a lungful of smoke. "Valentine's a martyr. He'd rather be unplugged or whatever than risk hurting anyone."

"And why is that not the obvious option?" Fahrenheit asked from his shoulder. "Guy clearly wants this scavver dead, she said it herself that he's ruthless. If you can't be sure who he'll be, then why risk it at all."

"Maybe," Rocky shook her head lightly. "But there's nothing worse than waking up when the world has gone on without you, to not even have a choice." She turned away for a moment, coming to stand at Valentine's side and pulling up a short stool. "It's ultimately Nick's decision, you're right, but I'm not going to give up so easily. He'll at least hear us out. Ready, Doctor?"

"Hang on. There's still two people here who didn't get a special little task," Hancock said, folding his arms and looking toward MacCready.

"Speak for yourself," MacCready said, swinging his legs from his seat on the counter, bending a wooden tongue compressor between his palms.

Hancock looked back to Rocky, extending an arm toward the ex-Gunner pointedly. "The fuck?"

"Someone has to go to Diamond City to tell Ellie what happened, tie up some of his loose ends," Rocky answered, rolling her eyes. "Did you want to go camp out at the gate? Or put a mask over that pretty face and hope no one recognized literally the only person in the Commonwealth who's ballsy enough to wear a red frock?"

"When you put it like that… Still wanna feel important, though."

"I don't think you need a job to do that," she said, settling in on her stool. "We'll talk after. Go ahead, Doctor."

The woman nodded, tapping in a few lines of code on the keyboard before she moved to stand at Valentine's side, giving Rocky one last look of warning before gently removing the cable that had been attached to the wires at the base of his skull.

For a while, nothing happened. Nick remained still for several minutes, his eyes closed and body limp, even as the Doctor fixed the wires at the back of his head. Finally his fingers twitched, and then contracted. His chin raised ever so slightly as his eyelids sleepily flickered open, his yellow eyes trying to focus, and after another long moment of waking up, his hand raised to his temples. "Rocky?" the name was just whispered, but it was enough for relief to wash over her at the recognition of Valentine's soft, reassuring voice. "Think some of my wires got tangled. How long was I out?"

She smiled a little, releasing the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "Hey Nick," she answered. "Not too long. How's the head?"

"Sore, if that even sounds possible. Like a million things running through my mind at once." He passed a hand over his bare head, feeling the absence of his hat, and his eyes slowly turned to the group standing nearby, to the five faces all eagerly watching him.

"Thought we'd throw you a welcome back party," Hancock snickered, holding out his cigarette. "Remember anything?"

Valentine took the cigarette and raised it briefly to his lips, letting his other hand fall limply between his knees. "I'm not sure… I remember leaving Goodneighbor, and being in a warehouse by the river. I was at a computer while you three went downstairs. Can't think of anything after that." He released a bit of smoke, letting the cigarette glow between his fingers. "Did they get the jump on us?"

"Not exactly." Rocky shifted on her stool, leaning her elbows against her knees. "Remember a while back, after we killed Kellogg? We brought his brain augmenter here, to Doctor Amari, to look through his memories."

Valentine nodded along. "Sure, that's how we learned about Shaun and that scientist."

"Right. Well, afterwards, you… Remember the mnemonic impressions?"

Nick frowned a bit, rubbing at his temple with the knuckle of his thumb. "You said I spoke like Kellogg. What is this about, Rocky? You think he's still around in my head?"

"There's a chance some of him might still be left over, Nick."

He dropped his gaze for a moment, focusing on a spot on the tiled floor as he took another pull of nicotine, letting the smoke slowly drift from his lips as he processed this. "I'm guessing this is more than just a grizzly warning," he finally said, raising his eyes to her face once more. "Tell me what happened."

"Nothing much," Hancock chimed in. "You just played hot potato with a bunch of nukes, tried to throttle us with your bare hands, then chased us out of a burning, crumbling building."

"No one got hurt," Rocky assured him.

"Except the people we wanted to," Hancock added.

Valentine dropped his gaze again, slowly shaking his head, but his hand moved to partially cover his eyes as he leaned against it. "So Kellogg lives on, huh. In my head. That's why the rest of you are here- Garvey and Deacon. Nice face, Deacon, the sunglasses give you away."

"Not always," the synth answered, adjusting said glasses.

"This is my fault, Nick," Rocky said, taking his old hat from the table to hand to him. "I know what you're going to say, that you willingly let me run Kellogg's memories through you, but I still asked you to do it. We could have found another synth to use, Kellogg had plenty with him, but I was… impatient, and impulsive. I selfishly put you at risk. I'm going to make things right again, which is why everyone is here."

"It's no one's fault." Valentine reached out for the hat, laying his fingers on top of hers. "Even if I knew the risks then, I still would have gone through with it; you'd do the same for me, if you were in my shoes. Kellogg wouldn't have willingly given up that information, we did the only thing we could. So what's the plan to get rid of him?"

"Well, Tinker Tom-"

"Is going to gut out half my software with his sweeper robots and battery acid?" Valentine pulled on the hat, shaking his head. "Never thought I'd be within thirty feet of that guy with my wires exposed."

"We'll keep him on a short leash," Deacon promised, coming to stand at Rocky's shoulder with his hand stuffed in his jean's pockets. "He's your best chance, knows Institute tech like the back of his hand. We'll keep the eccentrics to a minimum."

"Zero is a more reassuring number. Don't have much of a choice though, do I?" He waited for the woman to shake her head, and then shook his along with her. "Didn't think so. I know you won't let him meddle with my brain more than he has to."

"Promise," she said with a nod. "As for Garvey, we thought you'd be happier at Sanctuary. He's going to take you north, and MacCready will be going to Diamond City to see Ellie, so she doesn't worry."

"You thought of everything." He snuffed out the cigarette on the ashtray, then slumped back in the chair. "Do what you have to do. What about Hancock? For once he isn't involved?"

"I'm taking that a little to heart, Valentine," the ghoul said, putting a hand over his chest. "I got the most important gig of all."

"Why do I have a feeling it involves little work on your part."

"I get to hang out here, keep my ear to the ground, be at our fearless little leader's beck and call. Anything she needs, day or night. I'm like the sidekick… with benefits."

"So you do nothing and get to feel important. Sounds about right."

"Think I heard that line somewhere before…"

Rocky rubbed at the bridge of her nose, letting out an exasperated sigh. "Moving on from that, I still have work to do, Valentine. In case Tinker Tom doesn't have the tech to remove Kellogg, it's just another reason to infiltrate the Institute. I need to find that scientist, for both our sakes. I'll be with you when Tinker Tom shows up, but until then, I think it'd be better if I was away from you, in case I'm the one drawing out Kellogg."

"You sure you don't want to just keep me shut off? Long as I don't wake up in a junk heap again…"

"Pay up." Hancock cackled wickedly and held out his hand, which Garvey smacked away with an irritated grumble.

It was a while longer before Rocky finally came up the stairs from Dr. Amari's office, Hancock trailing along at her side with his hands idly in his pockets, whistling some kind of scattered tune. She rubbed at her sleepy eyes with the cuff of her long-sleeved shirt, casting a long look at Kent's door where she had taken a good share of naps, but forced herself to shuffle on by. There was still one more thing to be done before she could rest, though it was hard to find the will to do anything besides sleep. She took the black respirator from her pocket and placed it back over her nose and mouth, securing the buckle beneath her loose hair.

"You ever talk to Kent?" Hancock asked, using his rear to push open the front door, meanwhile tilting his head in the direction of Connolly's room.

Rocky blanched, glancing up at his inquisitive face as she stepped around him, though her reaction only seemed to draw more suspicion. At this point, it was probably better to play dumb when caught off guard, especially if he had seen her look toward his door. "Kent who?"

"I know you weren't stoned for the conversation about needing to know where Kendra was- that was my job." Hancock fixed his tricorn hat, stepping out into the lights of the alley. "He holds the leash of the Silver Shroud, IE the scarfed lunatic who got himself ass deep in a crime ring."

"A crime ring that's been using Goodneighbor as a doormat, from the sound of it," she responded, before she could stop herself, giving Hancock a pointed look. "I remember, and I remember that little comment about a slinky dress. There's one too many costumed crusaders running around, and I'm not fighting crime in a skin-tight dress and heels."

"I could find other things for you to do in a skin-tight dress and heels."

"Let me guess, paint the statehouse?"

"Oooh, I'll leave that comment alone," he said with a wicked laugh, winking slyly down at her.

"For once I'm genuinely curious to know how you could turn painting into a sexual innuendo."

"Don't question the dark corners of my mind. But if you really want to know, I could have a dress and heels in a matter of seconds."

"Your other costume?" she asked, smirking beneath her respirator and leering up at him with satisfaction; he shook his head in response. The door to the statehouse was opened for them both, and she was the first to step into the eerie quiet, the stairs creaking beneath her feet as she made her way up to the second landing. The seriousness of Valentine's situation was always severely lessened in the presence of Hancock, it was something she found she greatly appreciated about him, but there was something she couldn't avoid any longer. She had kept him in the dark about the real situation as long as she could, but Valentine had said too much, about the Institute, Shawn, and the scientist. "Look, about Kellogg… I know I owe you an explanation, but-"

"It's alright, Rocks," he said, stepping around her at the top of the stairs, leading the way into his dimly lit room. "I'd rather speculate wildly." He aimed a wily smile over his shoulder at her, scooping up a new pack of cigarettes from the coffee table before leaning against the back of the couch. "I get that it's your business. I should have told you before, in the Third Rail, but I guess it didn't seem like much then- didn't really understand it. Valentine just used that maniac's voice to say some ominous shit and then he was back to being Valentine, like nothing happened. I thought it was a glitch or the chems or something."

"Oh yeah, your 'uh, we, uh, know each other, uh'," here she changed her voice to sound as dopey as possible, before continuing on normally, "was a great head's up."

"Real' hilarious, Rocks. He just said some shit about people around you disappearing, that's not exactly a big indicator about wanting to blow us all up."

"You should have listened to his warning." Hancock's eyes widened and then narrowed at the words, and she almost couldn't believe she had said them, but it didn't make it any less true. She folded her arms across her chest, steeling herself, putting up the cold, indifferent front that was so much easier to do than to let him into this sinkhole that was her life. "And I shouldn't have brought you along."

"I asked to go." Hancock's face was unreadable, but he maintained his distance, his hands on the back of the couch on either side of him as he leaned against it. "We clean up our own messes, you and me. Can't say I'd be at the head of the line if I'd known that homicidal maniac was floating around Valentine's wires, but, if anyone was going to put Ruddy down, it needed to be me. What kind a' shitty mayor doesn't fight his own battles?"

"Not you, Hancock. And after all the fighting and the running, no one can doubt your dedication to Goodneighbor," she teased, the hint of a smile playing at the edge of her lips.

"We make a good team. Even in the nearly dying part."

"You had my back… that means a lot." The words hung in the air between them; there was something strange and unfamiliar written on Hancock's face that made a bit of color rise in her cheeks, but she quickly cleared her throat, turning to the desk in the corner. She put a hand on the hazmat suit that had been laid out for her, looking it over, checking every seal and seam but Hancock had been thorough this time, it was practically flawless. The other things she had asked for, a couple StealthBoy's and boxes of ammo, along with the extra Rad chems, were all bundled together in a backpack. It was just about everything she needed to go into the Glowing Sea, to finally seek out the rogue scientist, to hopefully put in the last piece of the puzzle before she could find the Institute. "Speaking of keeping Goodneighbor safe, this is a mess I have to clean up on my own."

"You don't have to do it alone, Rocks." There was clearly something deeper going on here, which he had always suspected about her, but even after seeing first-hand the mess with Kellogg, he couldn't turn away. Perhaps it was sheer lunacy on his part, considering she was turning him into a masochist; punishing him for his involvement while simultaneously making him want more. She held debts over his head, lured him into this mess with Valentine, which nearly included being blown to pieces by nuke mines and buried under a pile of flaming cement rubble, and had basically admitted being Institute Enemy #1. If this was just the tip of the iceberg, he couldn't even imagine what the bottom looked like. He had every reason to turn away and not get involved, to protect Goodneighbor and his people like his mind was counseling him to do, but at the very word of her leaving- knowing it would probably be for good- an internal switch was flipped, and suddenly a different body part was making some very good points about why he should be involved, about why he hadn't turned away so far. Even after Rocky had said she'd been the cause of what happened to Nick, he still couldn't turn away, he couldn't allow himself to believe that her intention behind it had been selfish. "What did he mean, when he said you were on ice?"

Rocky paused as she stuffed the suit into the backpack, feeling something prickle along her spine to the back of her neck. "The vault I was in…" She swallowed, shrugging her shoulders, trying to make it into not so big a deal, despite the sickness in the pit of her stomach at remembering. This was just opening the door that she didn't want Hancock to see through, to get a glimpse of the life that was too intimate to be shared out in the open, but she kind of owed that to him. After nearly dying because of her hasty, selfish actions, maybe he deserved more trust on his end. "It was a cryogenic vault. I was on ice for over two hundred years... kinda like a pre-war ghoul, but, you know, the frozen, fresher version."

"You're fucking with me." He squinted at her, trying to decide if she really was just screwing with him, but beyond that fake smile she had put on, barely reaching up to her eyes, he could still see the shard of weary pain behind it. She was telling the truth. She was a fucking relic. "You're serious?"

"I don't have a good punchline otherwise." She shrugged again, zipping up the bag and hoisting it over her shoulder. "Sanctuary was my actual home before the bombs, it was just a lot different back then. Everything was. I mean, you remember the color green don't you…?"

"I'm not a pre-war ghoul." Now it was her turn to wear the incredulous, disbelieving look; her mouth formed a few words, but nothing coherent would come out. He just smiled, waving a hand to brush it off again. "Yeah, had a smooth set of skin just a few years ago. I'm a knockout now, but back then…"

"No one should have that much power."

He cackled back, running a hand over his chin. "It was criminal. Anyway, what I found was the only one of its kind, some kind of experimental radiation drug- man, the high was worth it. And what's not to love about immortality?"

"I guess you can't watch the world go to hell a second time…" It was devastating to see what the world had become, to see everything dead and gone, so drastically changed, even worse to have to experience that alone. But, to see humanity still thriving, still carrying on despite these past wrongs and still finding beauty in the world… that was a form of hope she hadn't known existed. "Kind of ironic, you're young and I'm old."

"I always did have a thing for older women," he said with a wink, drawing out a laugh she couldn't disguise. "Gray hair, canes, that 'back then' story of yours- oooh, reminisce, baby."

"And here we see the darkest corner of your mind." She shook her head at him, trying to squash the inevitable smile blooming over her lips, even though she was glad that he hadn't made anything serious about the topic, when there was a world of pain lurking in the past. Maybe someday she'd be ready to face it again, when she found Shawn, when she could finally feel like people weren't trying to take advantage of her desperation. At least finding the scientist was a start, when every lead felt like a dead end. "I should go, thanks for the suit, Hancock. For being thorough about it."

"You got it." He had been shuffling the pack of unopened cigarettes from hand to hand to pocket, but now he finally cast them back on the low table, though his eyes lingered on something stronger. Damn the pact he had made with himself. "It's not pretty when I get sappy, so, if you ever need anything, you know where I'll be."

She almost felt reluctance to go, at losing something that had taken her mind off everything else, but she had to carry on. She had to do this, for Shawn and Valentine. Even if she continued her work as the Silver Shroud, carrying out this one last mission, afterward she knew she had to get serious. The Glowing Sea was waiting. Rocky strung the backpack across her shoulders as she went to the door, turning slightly for one final look. "See you around, Hancock." He made some kind of half-hearted saluting motion, and with that, she turned to go down the stairs, to leave Goodneighbor behind.

The cloud of smoke from the smoldering wreckage at the Silver Shroud's back was reaching up toward the sky in a long, wavering pillar, and for a while, she simply stood by and watched it burn. The past few days had yielded little rest, and truthfully, she wanted it that way. Taking out Northy and Smiling Kate had been the distraction she needed, her final act as the Silver Shroud before she really buckled down and got serious about the Institute. But before that could happen, there was one final person waiting to die. She slipped an orange holotape into her Pip-Boy and slammed the player shut, waiting for the static to clear and a hollow, woman's voice came on.

"Sinjin's not happy, Northy," said the voice, as cold as ice. "You let the Shroud get this far, and now Sinjin's getting personally involved."

There was a noise behind her, and Rocky turned her head just slightly, peering over her shoulder toward the open street behind her. There was movement in the shadows, a dark-skinned man with a rifle was approaching as quietly as he could, staying low to the ground. She gritted her teeth together, and the voice on the holotape played on.

"He's going to pay a personal visit to the costumed freak's little flunky in Goodneighbor," hissed the woman. "Now's not the time for failure."

The tape ended and something sick and heavy was developing in the pit of her stomach, even before she turned fully to look toward the hiding Minuteman. "Preston, where's Valentine?" she called, taking off the black hat and letting her hair pool around her shoulders.

Preston stood, looking uncertain but even from a small distance she could see him squinting at her. "Rocky?! What the hell are you wearing?" he called back, emerging from the shadows. "Or do I even want to know?"

"It's a long story." Not to mention it was embarrassing and hard to explain, but at least Garvey wasn't the sort to rat her out. "Where's Valentine?"

He pursed his lips together, still looking over the costume and the drawn-on beard. His instincts had told him to follow the pillar of smoke in order to find Rocky, and in a way, they hadn't exactly been wrong. Smoldering piles of wreckage was somehow normal for her. "I think you mean Kellogg. We were half-way to Sanctuary and suddenly he just… I don't know. He just went crazy, grabbed Randal's pistol, started shooting at us and took off!"

She was pinching the bridge of her nose, gritting her teeth together as she shook her head. Poor Valentine hadn't even made it to Sanctuary before Kellogg took over, and it disproved her theory that the maniac would only be drawn out in her presence. Now he could be anywhere, doing Christ knows what. "Took off where?"

"I don't know, looked like he was heading South again, good thing I found you first before he did."

"If he's not looking for me, he's looking for the Institute. Dammit!" She let her hand drop and instead clenched her fists, looking back toward the smoldering rubble. If only she had heard the news before she raided Northy's hideout. What a giant, deathclaw-sized pile of shit she had stepped in. "I have to go back to Goodneighbor, Kent's in serious trouble-"

"You're in serious trouble! That crazy guy doesn't mess around- he almost took us all out!"

"I know the feeling. Look, the only thing we can do is wait for him to come to us. Kellogg's careful, he was practically impossible to track down. Dogmeat only found him because he smoked these cigars, and I doubt Valentine would leave anything behind. In the meantime, I need you to do something for me."

Garvey pursed his full lips together, nodding along. "What can I do to help?"

"I need you to spread the word to our settlements to keep an eye out for Valentine, but don't mention anything about Kellogg. Just say Nick's gone missing, and if anyone's seen him, to send word to the Castle. Valentine's done too much for these people, he's earned their respect- I don't want to see that fall apart because they think he's gone rogue." She replaced the hat on her head, tucking her hair back up into the brim. "Please?"

"Yeah, alright." He gave her one last look, taking in everything with a small shake of his head. The things she got roped into, sometimes it was just better not to ask. "I won't ask, but, try to take care of yourself in Goodneighbor. I'll be at the Castle, try to lure Kellogg there if you can."

The Silver Shroud nodded, picking up the silver submachine gun that had been leaning against a nearby stump. "I will. And you know, there's other radio stations besides Radio Freedom," she teased, receiving a sort of flat, unamused look in return which only made her smile. The two clasped forearms and then parted ways, Garvey heading to the Castle, and Rocky to the one place she didn't expect to return to.