Postpartum
Chapter Eight
Nora didn't move from her self-appointed post all night, keeping the heavy rifle in her lap as she remained tirelessly crouched in the cold, damp hours of darkness. Dogmeat stayed faithfully by her side, wrapping his sprightly body over her feet for some measure of warmth. Nora appreciated his deep sense of loyalty but did not say as much, expressing her gratitude in the quiet stroking of the sensitive spots behind his ear.
She had not slept. She would not sleep.
Just as the sun peered over the horizon for dawn, Preston arrived for his morning shift at the guard post. He seemed surprised to see her there. "We wondered where you had went last night."
She doubted that but did not argue. "Do you smoke?" she asked instead, her insides clenched, coiled, waiting for the answer.
Her question puzzled him. "Smoke. No, I don't."
"Does anyone in your group smoke?"
"Mama Murphy used to but she stopped when her coughing got so bad. Sturges would indulge occasionally, but I think he hasn't had one since Quincy."
The clenching, the coiling shattered. This was not the answered she had wanted to hear. "I know our group is small at the moment, but we need to make sure that we have someone guarding the gate at all times, even at night."
Preston did not say anything in response, but his mouth worked itself into an agitated line, suggesting he might have disagreed. But his silence was all the compliance she needed.
Nora looked around, and, confirming that they were indeed alone, she decided to share something with him. "I know you probably want to argue, but listen. On my way back to Sanctuary, I was… kidnapped by a group of raiders. They let me go, but they knew Mama Murphy. I'm supposed to deliver something to her."
She showed him the jet and repeated Jared's message. To her suspicion, Preston looked troubled but unsurprised with the news. "I had heard that she ran with raiders once, but…" He didn't complete the thought.
"Since no one in your group smokes, you should know about the cigarette butts I found last night. I know for a fact that Jared smokes." She touched the pink burns on her cheek before opening the gate to show Preston her evidence.
Preston crouched to inspect them. After a moment, he straightened. "We don't know how long these have been here," he pointed out judiciously.
Her face hardened. "They were fresh last night. Whether or not they're Jared is debatable, I understand. But it still means that someone was prowling around the gate last night. We need to be careful. We need to protect ourselves."
Once more, Preston did not argue. He nodded, trading places with Nora and her rifle with his own laser musket. "You should deliver that message to Mama Murphy, but not the jet. If anything, she could tell us how much of a threat they are."
As Nora headed back to her house, she heard Dogmeat's feet padding loyally on the pavement behind her.
Codsworth buzzed about the kitchen, tittering his concern over her well-being after being gone all night.
"Relax, Codsworth. I was just guarding the gate."
This seemed to assuage him but only marginally. "I am happy to see your dedication to your new community. However, ma'am, your own health is important to consider. You've been neglecting your appetite, you've not slept properly since you've returned with that Brotherhood soldier, and you've been vomiting, of all things."
"Codsworth, stop worrying. I'm fine, really. Besides, no one is safe if the gate is left unguarded."
Codsworth's arguments paused to consider this. "Well ma'am, if it's a simple matter of having a warm body on post, I'd be more than happy to volunteer for the night shift, though technically my body casing is made of cold metal."
Nora was actually touched by the offer. "Codsworth, that's really sweet of you."
"Ma'am, you're the last of my family, pending until you find dear Shaun. I know it's technically in my programming to be so loyal, but you're all that I have left. My family is everything to me. But I guess now, this Minutemen group—they're part of our family now too."
Nora frowned, unsure if she felt as attached.
Codsworth, noticing her reluctance, pointed out. "They may be a rather rough bunch on the outside, but they look up to you, ma'am."
Codsworth spent the rest of the day testing and improving his own modified weapons system with the occasional reminder to Nora to eat something. She shrugged off his concerns, occasionally nibbling on a Fancy Lad Snack Cake she had managed to scavenge near Cambridge. She remembered eating them voraciously during her pregnancy. Nate would tease her over her unhealthy pregnancy cravings.
Nora froze in that moment, at that thought. She remembered the tenor of his laugh. How his shoulders would shake with the smallest chuckle, the fine lines that crinkled at the corner of his eyes. She remembered it all perfectly, as if she could reach out and touch his face. As if she would turn a corner and see him rocking the baby in the nursery or straightening his tie in their bedroom. As if the crumbling decayed walls were suddenly pristine and she had been transported two hundred years in the past.
Nora blinked, suddenly finding herself standing in the gray, dismal present, in the nursery. She gripped the side rails of the crib with shaking fingers. The snack cake had been dropped, abandoned, on the dusty floor. Hot tears streamed silently down her face, turning the sharp edges of the baby mobile blurry in the momentary escape to the past, masked by the thickness falling from her eyes.
Her stomach turned.
She fled the nursery in favor for the backyard, purging the contents of her stomach by the shambles of the picket fence. The arid sugaryness of the snack cake flooded her senses, and once the heaving subsided, Nora knew she could never eat another one.
To her utter relief, Codsworth was not around to witness her moment of humiliation again. She took a moment to collect herself, wiped her mouth, and returned inside to the kitchen.
She was packing up the remaining contents of the tato soup she had made, an idea forming. Once she had it properly secured, the sun shone brilliantly over the Sanctuary street for midmorning. The others were awake, working in Jun's garden or what was left of the perimeter fence. Nora paused just outside her front door to handle the gripping moment of claustrophobia, battling the trapped feeling the fence evoked as it reminded her of the constrictive cryopod where she had been rendered helpless while her husband was murdered and her son stolen right before her eyes.
She took a deep, shaky breath. No. This was different. The fence didn't trap her. The fence protected her from threats like Jared. The fence was a blessing.
She continued down the street to the front gate. Marcy, noticing her walking by, stopped helping Sturges erect one of the final walls and ran to cut her escape.
"What are you doing with that?" she asked sharply, nodding to the pot of soup.
Nora tired of Marcy's seemingly endless suspicion. "I'm making a trade."
"We need that food." She crossed her arms across her chest.
"Would you rather have one night of soup or would you rather have a steady supply line of vegetables?"
Marcy's face faltered. By now, Preston and Sturges had approached to join the conversation.
In the ensuing silence, Nora looked at each of their wide open faces. She easily saw the terror in them, even Marcy's. Especially Marcy's. She could understand it. She had also seen that terror reflected back at her in the glass of her cryopod. The terror followed tragedy.
"This is how we survive. More than that, this is how we thrive. We build the right relationships. We grow stronger—together. The people who gave us these tatos desire the same life we do, otherwise they wouldn't have given them to us. We pay that kindness back. We establish ourselves. And then we won't be the struggling survivors, the helpless victims. We become the strength of the Commonwealth. We become the people."
The terror lifted, however temporarily, from their faces. Preston was even smiling.
Marcy nodded, her face hardening, obscuring her terror. "Fine. But I'm coming with you."
They followed Codsworth's general directions to the Abernathy Farm, veering from the road and heading straight south at the Red Rocket Station. It didn't take long for the farmshack to come into view. They approached it slowly, deliberately, with Nora hefting the pot while Marcy escorted with Preston's laser musket. Nora had been initially against the show of force but didn't have the heart to argue it. She understood its necessity.
The man Abernathy greeted them just outside the fence protecting his farmstead. Marcy, whose face seemed to be stuck in a permanent scowl, said nothing, so Nora stepped forward to make the introductions.
"I'm Nora," she said, shifting the heavy pot to her hip. "This is Marcy. I believe you met my robobutler, Codsworth, yesterday."
The mention of Codsworth brought a familiar smile to his face. "Codsworth. Yes, he was bumbling around here yesterday. He got Connie pretty worked up, but we quickly saw that he was harmless. I sent him home with a basket of tatos."
Nora felt a genuine smile stretch across her face. The kindness, the generosity of this man, although at first masked by a wise skepticism, was something she had not truly seen since before descending into the depths of Vault 111.
"Yes, that was very nice of you! I turned them into soup, and I thought I would share, as a way of saying thanks."
She offered him the pot, and his eyes widened in surprise and wonder. He motioned for the woman shadowing the hut's doorway to come forward and then he took the soup into his hands. "You didn't have to go to such trouble, but it is very appreciated. The name's Blake. Come inside for a few minutes."
Marcy looked as though she would rather do no such thing but was prodded along by a side-eyed glare from Nora. They joined the Abernathy family inside at their table while Blake began spooning soup into five bowls.
It was the first time Nora had tasted her own concoction, and she thought she did pretty well with such a foreign, mutated ingredient. The Abernathy's praised her work well.
"If you don't mind me asking, where are you staying?" asked Blake's wife Connie.
Marcy's face skewered. "We're pretty close by," was all she would say.
"We're at the cul-de-sac just past the Red Rocket," Nora elaborated.
Blake nodded and said nothing, allowing his wife to do the questioning.
"Sanctuary Hills?" Connie said, recognizing the place. "You should be careful if you've just settled. Lucy would track packs of mole rats in that area."
Lucy, the adult daughter of Blake and Connie, merely raised a hand to acknowledge Connie's statement as truth.
"You've got a lovely farm here," Nora observed. "How long have you lived here?"
Connie grew quiet, her eyes fell to her bowl. Blake intervened on her behalf. "We set up here about twenty years ago. We used to be in Diamond City, but Boston has all manner of vices and dangers. Connie and I preferred the quiet life, and so when we got pregnant with our first daughter, we moved out here. We've had a few problems with raiders and pests, but nothing like it was in the city."
"Oh, you have another daughter?" Nora asked, looking around for the fourth Abernathy.
The momentary dejected silence told Nora all she needed to know. Connie reaching for a locket hidden in her shirt and Blake's clarification was just further confirmation.
"Our oldest, Olivia, was killed in a raider attack."
The harsh lines of Marcy's face faded into one of sympathy. If anything, Marcy understood their pain the most. She pushed back her chair and disappeared outside.
"I am so sorry to hear that. Please excuse Marcy. She lost her son the same way."
Blake leaned forward. "And you? I can tell you've suffered loss. Who hasn't in this cruel world?"
Nora's smile was weak. "My baby was stolen from me." It was a whisper she would rather not breathe life into.
Blake nodded, reaching to pat her hand. "Our pain is the same. We all suffer similarly."
Blake looked across the table into the tender faces of his family. Then he decided that he would send another shipment of vegetables with them, as well as their daughter Lucy who would help their own garden along, imparting their twenty-year's worth of agricultural knowledge.
Blake looked her evenly in the eyes. "We are friends. Friends help each other."
When Nora went outside to tell Marcy the news, the other woman said nothing in response. She shifted the musket around in her hands and waited with an air of agitation for the Abernathy's to gather the gift they were offering, a basket of carrots and corn this time.
Lucy carried the basket, trailing behind Marcy who led the way back to Sanctuary. Their walk was silent. When they passed the Red Rocket Station, Nora told the other two to go on ahead. She stopped to scavenge for any parts or materials Sturges could use for the power grid he was developing. She looked through all the tool chests and drawers and left the station an hour later with a good amount of conductors, wire, and other tools she thought might help him.
When she passed through the Sanctuary gate, the air inside seemed tangibly brighter than it had been before. Preston was whistling at his post. Nora could see Marcy, Jun, and Sturges surrounding Lucy as she walked their plowed field and lectured on where they needed to improve.
"You did good, Nora," Preston said, walking next to her as she went to deposit the junk at Sturges's workshop.
She mumbled a quiet thanks, dusting her shirt off from the rust and grime that had fallen on her.
Preston continued, as if he had something on his mind. "Marcy told me about the deal you made with the Abernathys."
"I didn't make a deal. They offered us resources. I'm sure there will be a time when we'll need to pay them back."
"All the same. It takes great skill and leadership to do what you did. It took bravery to even seek them out. We'll make this a great place, but we'll make it a great place because of you."
"One person does not make a community. It is the work of everyone involved," she said quietly, uncomfortable with his high praises.
Preston slowly nodded but ultimately undeterred by her dismissal of her abilities. "True, but one great leader can inspire everyone to come together, to make the community great."
She froze, sensing this new direction in the conversation. "What do you want?"
"It's not what I want. It's what we need. Not just here in Sanctuary, but the rest of the Commonwealth. I see the qualities of a great leader in you. You have the sharp cunning to think quickly through situations, the bravery to march forward into the dangerous unknown, and the fierce compassion it takes to save a group of strangers you never met before."
She said nothing.
"I was thinking. We should rebuild the Minutemen. Create it in the way it was originally supposed to be. 'By the people, for the people.' And I think you are the best choice in leading us."
Nora was strongly reminded of Danse's invitation into the Brotherhood. She couldn't fathom Preston's enthusiasm for her not only joining the Minutemen but also leading them. "You want me to lead them?"
"Yes...General."
Her throat constricted, the automatic refusal lost on her lips. She wasn't sure even how to respond to such an expectation. She coughed to clear her throat. "I'm not a leader. I can't lead you."
"I beg to disagree, with what I've seen from you handling the raiders and the Abernathy's—"
"No, you don't understand. It's not about what I'm capable of. It's a matter of what I'm willing to do. I was happy to open the doors of Sanctuary for you and the others. But I'm not the general you're looking for. All I want to do is find my son. Everything else is irrelevant, unimportant to me. You don't want a leader whose first interest isn't in leading. I'm sorry, but I can't. You deserve better."
Preston's mouth worked itself into a frown. "If that's how you really feel, then I appreciate the honesty. Just promise me you'll think about it. No matter what you say, your actions prove to me that you're the best thing that's happened to us."
Nora shook her head with even less conviction. "Thank you for the kind words. I'm leaving for Diamond City again soon, though. Maintain the relationship with the Abernathys. And don't be afraid to accept new people in here."
Preston nodded with a peculiar shine to his eye. "Whatever you say, General." And he walked off before she could argue the title.
She found Mama Murphy sitting inside their house. Everyone else, including Codsworth, was outside listening intently to Lucy's advice. Dogmeat, apparently sensing the sudden trepidation surrounding Nora, followed her to the house, planting himself in the doorway as if to keep watch. Mama Murphy looked up from humming tunelessly and gave a dry chuckle. "Oh, I see. You've got something to tell me."
Nora wanted to like Mama Murphy but found it difficult. It wasn't the sagging skin around her face or the grimy hem of her coat. There was something condescending in the way she carried herself, having this supernatural access to "The Sight" that afforded her a keen look of the world. There was something in the way the old woman yielded to the cravings of her old vices, drugs and alcohol. Nora had seen many through the legal system, kids getting mixed up in drugs but always regretting it, too weak to refuse the cravings they had grown addicted to. And then there were the addicts who understood to the fullest extent, the culpability of their actions, but had not a care in the world how it affected them or the people around them. She sensed Mama Murphy fell into the latter category.
"Mama Murphy," she began slowly, folding her arms. "Do you know someone named Jared?"
The recognition that flashed through her face was undeniable. "Yeah, I remember him well enough. He's just a sprout whose jealous of the Sight."
Nora found herself inexplicably annoyed. "Well that sprout saw you passing through Concord. He kidnapped me in Cambridge. He wanted me to deliver a message to you."
She cackled another throat laugh. "Let me guess. He wants to see me?"
Nora nodded. "He said, he's at the Corvega plant. I think he was stalking around our fence last night."
Mama Murphy waved her off. "Jared can be dangerous, but I don't think he's a concern right now. He's probably just seeing if you gave me the message. Then he'll go back to Corvega and wait. We have some time before you need to deal with him."
"Before I deal with him?" Nora repeated skeptically.
"Yes. That may be hard to swallow right now. But we've all got a role to play when the time comes."
"Well, the only thing I care about right now is finding my son."
Mama Murphy nodded. "Yes, yes. But you've brought me something, haven't you? Something from Jared? Something that will help you in your search."
At this, Nora finally produced the inhaler of jet for her, holding it out in her palm. It sat innocently enough, but she understood just how dangerous it was.
"Better check to make sure everyone is busy. Folks don't like it much when I partake," Mama Murphy pointed out.
Nora did as she was bid, confirming everyone was preoccupied. "We're good." She went to hand Murphy the jet, but paused, drawing it back, a stern look coming to her face. "This is for Shaun. I'm not giving it to you because of Jared's stupid message or to supply your addiction. You help me find Shaun. If you send me on a wild goose chase, well. I can't imagine things turning out good for you."
Mama Murphy was wholly unperturbed by the implicit threat. Nora passed over the jet and waited.
It took a few minutes. Murphy's eyes went bloodshot and hazy, a few groans escaping her lips. Finally, in full clarity she offered:
"Diamond City holds answers, but they're locked tight. People's hearts are chained up with fear and suspicion. But you find it. The heart, the brightest one. You find that heart that's gonna lead you to your boy."
And so, Nora prepared for the trip to Diamond City.
