Freddie Gomez paced back and forth in the classroom. He knew it was going to come down to this. They wanted him to choose. He didn't want to choose, but he had to. Today, he was being forced by the Amata to decide whether or not he was with her and the rebels or the rest of the vault.

He chose the rebels. He'd always been with the rebels, really, but not choosing sides kept him from being attacked by either side. Now that he'd chosen, the security guards would be all over him like the bitch attitude was on Amata.

"Good," Amata stated as she pointed a finger at him. "Don't let me catch you trading secrets with your father. We all know whose side he's on."

Freddie wasn't normally quick to anger, but Amata's demand made him boil. Who was she to tell him what he could or could not discuss with his own father? His father would never disclose that information to the Overseer by any means.

"Whatever you say, Amata," he replied, quickly covering up the anger in his voice with the shaky, nervous tone he usually spoke with.

Amata walked away with a satisfied look on her face. She was excited to have a little bit of power in the vault. She had the rebels behind her and she had power over them. Soon enough, she would have power over the whole vault. She could feel it.

"Good call, man," Butch said excitedly as he placed a hand on Freddie's shoulder. "I always knew you'd make the right call. Amata might think she's in control of us, but she's not."

"Of course not," Freddie mused. It didn't matter if someone was in control of Butch or not, he'd never admit it. Freddie knew that, too. He took Butch's statement with a grain of salt. He honestly wouldn't be surprised to find that Amata was in full control of the rebels.

"I mean, we support her decision to escape the vault, but we don't support her. You know what I mean? She knows that, too."

Freddie nodded to Butch's question. Sure, he knew what Butch meant. Butch really should have asked if Freddie believed it, because he didn't. He found it rather amusing that Butch was supporting a girl that he tormented throughout their lives.

Butch, Wally, and Paul may have gangbanged Amata a few times, but that didn't stop any of them from tormenting her. Freddie didn't want anything to do with any of them after that, especially Amata. He felt unclean being around her.

Butch sat down at a desk in the classroom and began to play with his switchblade. It may have been time for the rebels to go over their plan for the week, but Butch never really listened to that. Most of the rebels were all bark and no bite.

They all talked and talked about how they were going to get out of the vault. None of them ever did anything to help the cause though. If he knew for sure these pantywastes were behind him, he'd start acting.

He'd kill the overseer and the whole security force if he had to. There was no doubt in his mind about that. He wasn't a sissy but he damn sure wasn't stupid either. He knew if he stabbed someone in the throat with his switchblade, no one would stand behind him.

The rebels would all run for cover like they had with Brotch. Butch was passed out drunk yesterday when Brotch was thrown in vault prison. He wasn't sure exactly what had happened, but he did know that no one stood behind Brotch.

As soon as the guards took him into custody, the rest of the rebels crept away like the snakes they were. Well, like the regular snakes they were. Tunnel Snakes weren't like that.

Though, tunnel snakes really only included Butch and Freddie right now. Paul had died not long after Doc and his kid left the vault. He'd been wounded severely by radroaches and the vault had no doctor to save him.

Wally had quit the gang all together. Butch was glad Wally had quit the gang… because fuck Wally. No one quits the Tunnel Snakes. Butch kicked people out of the Tunnel Snakes. In Butch's mind, really, he had kicked Wally Mack out of the Tunnel Snakes.

Freddie wasn't really listening to Amata talk either. He was worried with the situation. He kind of wished that James and Rhydian wouldn't have left in the first place. If they had never left, then he wouldn't be in this situation.

Also, if they hadn't left, he could still be close to Rhydian. He'd never tell anyone else this, but she was the only person he could be himself around. Doc's kid didn't judge him like everyone else in the vault. Doc's kid didn't call him Freddie the Freak or compare him to Grognak the Barbarian.

"Let's go, Gomez," Butch commanded, pulling him by the sleeve. "I want to try and free Brotch."

Freddie followed Butch into the vault's jail. Brotch was standing in the jail cell and didn't look very pleased to see either boy walking in the room.

"We're here to free you," Butch announced, hoping to hear gratitude and joy from Brotch. Hearing only a sigh in reply, Butch asked, "Hey, what gives?"

"Mr. DeLoria, as I can tell you from your grades, you are not capable of hacking the terminal or picking the lock."

Brotch still had a sense of authority in his voice, which made Freddie wonder if he was really aware of where he was. Freddie wondered if maybe Brotch's tone was arrogant naturally and not the result of being a teacher.

Butch ignored Brotch's insults. Who was Mr. Brotch to tell Butch what he was and was not capable of? Butch decided himself that he was fully capable of picking a stupid lock. He was leader of the Tunnel Snakes- the most feared and dangerous delinquents in all the land. A stupid lock was no match for him, he decided.

Brotch just stared without interest at the two boys who claimed they were going to free him. He had taught the two young men all their lives and he knew neither one was capable of bypassing the vaults security system, whether it be by lock or by terminal.

He knew Butch DeLoria very well. Butch may have fancied himself an intelligent and fearsome criminal, but he was neither. A criminal he was, but fearsome or intelligent, he was not. In theory, he considered Butch much like a young kitten. Yes, he could hiss and scratch someone, but he couldn't kill them.

He also knew Freddie Gomez. Freddie was a timid and vulnerable soul who tried to avoid violence at all costs. For the longest time, he had tried to avoid choosing factions in the vault. This kid was no more criminal than a sleeping baby. He highly doubted that the anxious young man could find it within himself to even attempt to hack a terminal or pick a lock.

Freddie stood by the doorway while Butch attempted to pick the lock keeping Brotch in his cell. If he stood by the doorway, he could hear if someone was coming. If the overseer or a vault officer did happen to come this way, Freddie was unsure of what he would actually do.

Staying in the room and getting caught didn't sit right with Freddie. However, taking off and hiding while letting Butch take all the blame didn't sit right with Freddie either. Not that Freddie thought Butch would have his back in any kind of situation. Freddie still didn't like the idea of stooping to Butch's level.

He silently cursed himself as his hands began to shake. He didn't understand himself, really, so he could understand why no one else could. His hands- they were always shaking. He was always nervous, anxious, and unsure of everything.

He could hardly even decide what he wanted for breakfast in the mornings. He never thought sugar bombs were a good choice as they made his stomach hurt. He thought maybe he wanted a sweetroll for breakfast, but then something about having a sweetroll for breakfast seemed wrong to him.

Damn my VDS, he thought to himself. He wished he didn't have it to begin with. Then, he realized he wouldn't be himself without VDS and he was glad he had it. That's when he realized, that once again, he was incapable of making up his mind about something. He wasn't sure whether or not he'd choose to have VDS if given the choice.

Butch grew impatient as he continued to wiggle his bobby pin around in the keyhole. He was frustrated until he realized his bobby pin in the keyhole resembled something dirty. That thought made him giggle.

Fuck this lock, fuck this vault, he chimed in his head over and over again. He jiggled the bobby pin around in the keyhole. Unlock, you son of a bitch.

Butch broke part of his bobby pin off in the lock, successfully jamming it. He stood up and smiled at Brotch. He'd tried his best and no one could blame him for that.

"I broke the lock," Butch clarified as if no one else had heard the snapping of his bobby pin. "I'll try to hack the terminal now."

"No!" Brotch shouted. He knew good and well that if someone got locked out of a terminal someone else could still hack it. He also knew that if anyone could render a terminable completely useless, it was Butch DeLoria and he was not taking that chance. "Do not touch that terminal, DeLoria. I mean it."

"What are you gonna do about it?" Butch sneered from behind the glass.

"I'll give you detention for life."

"You can't do that," Butch bit back, proud of himself for knowing that much. "You can't give me detention when I'm already graduated."

"Oh, yes, I can make that possible, DeLoria. Just try me."

Butch stared at Mr. Brotch for a while. Earlier he was sure that Brotch couldn't do that, but now, he wasn't so sure. He decided against trying to find out. If there was one thing Butch hated more than anything else, it was school.

"Let's go, Gomez. I've decided not to free him after all. I decided that maybe I don't like him all too much."

Butch was sure that he'd made it look like he decided against freeing Brotch and that Freddie had no idea that he was just incapable of picking that stupid lock. He'd seen the Doc's stupid brat pick the lock into the Overseer's office plenty of times. What did she have that he didn't have?

Freddie felt a sense of relief that they were unable to free the teacher from the jail cell. It wasn't like Freddie didn't like the friendly man, because he did. He just didn't want the Overseer or his security force coming after him for freeing Brotch.

Then, Freddie felt guilty. Maybe he deserved to be locked up, too, for thinking the way he did. He wasn't sure that a better him than me attitude was the best thing to have. In fact, that was the only thing that Freddie was sure of. He didn't want to be an asshole.

"I'm sorry that we couldn't free you," Freddie told Brotch as he left the room, following Butch.

"Well, this blows," Butch told him as they headed for Butch's room. "We ain't ever gonna get out of this stupid vault! This place gives me the creeps."

"Yeah, we are," Freddie assured him. "You should never believe that you can't do something. It's not good for your self-esteem."

Butch looked at him as if he were from a different vault entirely. "Hey, I don't need one of your VDS speeches, Gomez. I don't need no therapy, so you keep that to yourself, alright?"

Freddie nodded as Butch twisted the cap off a bottle of whiskey. The overwhelming stench of charcoal and permanent marker wafted across the room. Butch took a sip, seemingly unaffected by the kick Freddie knew it delivered.

"How can you drink that stuff straight from the bottle?" Freddie asked with a look of disgust. He'd only ever had whiskey with Nuka Cola and he could even taste the kick in that.

"Try some," Butch offered, holding the bottle out to Freddie. When Freddie shook his head, Butch demanded, "I said, try it, Gomez."

Freddie took the bottle. His first mistake was smelling the whiskey up close. The smell of it gave his nostrils a kick. He lifted the bottle up to his lips and sipped. The whiskey burned his throat, but more than anything, it burned his chest.

He quickly handed the bottle back to Butch while holding his other hand over his mouth. Nope, whiskey was definitely not for him. He tried his best to ignore the burning sensation that overtook his chest, but he couldn't do it.

Without giving a second thought as to whether or not Butch was going to bag him for it, he ran to the bathroom and hurled. The shot came up along with everything he had eaten that day. Again, whiskey was not for him.

He didn't bother going back to Butch's room. He knew that Butch was going to make fun of him for puking up the whiskey. So instead of going in there and taking the trash talk, he headed back to his room where his father was waiting.

"I heard you officially joined the rebels," he told Freddie as he sat down at the small table.

"Are you mad?" Freddie asked as he stood in the doorway. He wasn't sure yet if Herman was mad, so he just hovered in the doorway until he was sure.

"No, son, I'm not mad," Herman replied with the same calming and caring tone he always used. "In fact, sometimes I wish I could join the rebels myself."

"Are you serious?" Freddie asked, sitting down at the table across from his father. He clasped his hands on the table before him in an attempt to keep them from shaking.

"Do you know one of the last things James' daughter said to me before she left?" Herman asked, staring at his son with sad eyes.

He could tell that Freddie was nervous and anxious. Herman knew that his son was nervous pretty much all the time, but it really bothered him that Freddie was even nervous around him. He was Freddie's father. Freddie had no reason to be nervous around him.

"I don't think you ever told me, Dad."

"When I told her that I'd pretend I'd never seen her run by, she told me, And I'll pretend that you don't work for a homicidal maniac."

"Why are you telling me this?" Freddie asked, unsure if there were dots he was supposed to be connecting or not.

"I'm telling you this because that little girl was right. Do not ever tell anyone I told you this, son, but she was right. The reason that I don't quit isn't because I enjoy working for the overseer."

"Then why don't you quit?"

"I keep my job because I'm still a security officer. I'm still working for the safety of this vault even if the vault's overseer is a maniac. I'm still working to defend the safety of the vault, the vault kids, and above all, your safety."

Freddie was unsure of what to say. He felt more nervous now than he had before. Feelings and emotions made him extremely nervous. He was never really how to show his emotions, so he normally didn't. He nodded his head.

He nodded his head instead of stating his appreciation and admiration for his father, the only person that really cared about him. His mom didn't really care, but his father always had. His mother ignored him when he started speaking to the rebels, but his father still accepted him.

That's the way it always was. Freddie recognized how lucky he was to have his father. He didn't tell his father and he didn't tell anyone else, but he knew good and well. He hoped his father knew that without Freddie having to state it.

Herman didn't know and he didn't care, really. He didn't do the things he did to be appreciated and admired by his son. He did it to keep his son safe and for nothing more. He would continue to work for his son's safety whether his son appreciated it or not.

Butch was in his room, still. By this point, he was completely plastered. There was something missing inside Butch DeLoria. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, something deep inside Butch DeLoria was hopelessly broken beyond repair.

If he wanted to think about it, which he didn't, he could attribute that broken feeling to his mother. Part of the problem was rooted in the fact that he didn't have a father, either, but he could also blame that on his alcoholic mother.

Butch wanted to think that he was just a delinquent merely because he was just a badass. Deep down inside, though, no matter how hard he tried, Butch couldn't lie to himself. He was troubled because of his mother.

The basics of Butch's troubles were because of Ellen and only her. His broken and misguided feelings manifested in him becoming a bully. Again, Butch just wanted to think that he was a bully because he was tough, but that wasn't the reason.

"Get out of here, you worthless piece of garbage," Ellen slurred as she entered the room. "I've got business that I don't need you knowing about."

She entered the room with Paul Hannon Senior. Butch knew exactly what business she was speaking of. As much as Butch wanted to mouth off to his mother and tell her that he'd come and go as he pleased, he didn't want to see or hear her fucking Chief Hannon.

Paul Hannon Senior had lost his son, Paul Jr., and his wife, Vikki, the night that James and Rhydian had left Vault 101. He was upset and easily convinced, which made him the perfect victim for Ellen DeLoria.

Butch had once read about a creature called a siren in a book. It was supposed to be some creature that preyed upon men. It used sexual charm and desire to hypnotize men. Then, it would kill them or it would lead them into a dangerous situation where they would later be killed.

Butch was sure that his mother was a siren.

"I see you've been drinking my liquor again, you thieving brat. Maybe if you amounted to more than a fucking hairdresser, then you could get your own liquor."

"I'm a fucking barber," Butch reminded her as he threw the empty liquor bottle on the bed. He grabbed another full bottle from the cabinet and before leaving the room, he muttered to Chief Hannon, "You poor bastard."

He walked down the hallways and headed for Freddie's room. As he entered, he wished that Paul hadn't died the night the vault opened. If Paul was still around, he would have someone other than Freddie the Freak to shoot the shit with.

"I thought I told you about coming into my room and hanging out with my son," Officer Gomez stated as Butch walked in the door.

"Ain't you supposed to be leavin' for work anyway?" Butch asked in a smartass tone as he made himself comfortable on the Gomez' couch between Freddie and Pepper.

Herman eyed Butch one last time before leaving the room to work his shift. He didn't like Butch DeLoria. Butch was good for nothing but getting his son in trouble. He had turned Freddie into a bully for a while, and because of that, Freddie's VDS worsened.

Herman didn't want anything bad to happen to Butch. After all, Butch was only the way he was because of Ellen. That didn't stop him from wondering if Freddie would even have VDS if it wasn't for Butch. He always quickly dismissed that theory and felt guilty about it.

"Is your mother busy?" Pepper Gomez asked Butch, anxious to get out of the room and away from her son and Butch.

"Nope," Butch answered with a wicked grin. "She's sitting at home alone."

Pepper Gomez hurriedly left the room.

"Your mother isn't really alone, is she?" Freddie asked in a knowing fashion.

"Nope."