*I think I completely rewrote this chapter at least three or four times. Thank you guys for being so patient! 3*

I'd never really experienced the whole spinning-room sensation without being drunk, but I'd be damned if the floor wasn't swimming beneath my feet now.

Nate, my fucking Sole Survivor, was standing in front of me. Not a pre-written character with his own ambitions and motivations. Not the stock design that everyone's presented with at the start of the game. This was the SoSu that I had created. He was a little scruffier, sure, but every other detail was exactly the same: eye color, lips, hair, build. He even had the little scars that I'd put across his left eyebrow and down the right side of his jaw. It was uncanny.

I built a fucking human being in a character generator. Oh. My. God.

"Hey, Hancock," Nate said, with a small, friendly smile. "We're not interrupting anything, are we?"

Hancock grinned. "Not at all, vaultie. What brings you two to town?"

I watched him stride across the room to clasp hands with Nate and thump MacCready playfully on the shoulder. I'm not sure what my expression looked like, but inside I definitely felt like I was either going to throw up or pass out. After nearly a whole day without sleep and playing wasteland nurse with Gavin, I was at my limit for weird shit.

"Helping out the settlers down in Hangman's Alley with a feral problem, and we needed to stock up on some supplies," Nate explained. "Couldn't pass through without stopping by. Ran into Fahrenheit at the gate… she's as charming as ever."

"We swung by Diamond City too. Piper sends her regards," MacCready added, smirking.

Hancock chuckled. "I'll bet she does."

Nate glanced over at Gavin and then up at me. "So who're your friends?"

Shit. I scrambled internally to try to get myself together. I couldn't very easily explain my reaction away if I was staring at Nate like he was the ghost of my long-dead grandfather or something. I had to be able to take this in my stride like I did with everything else about this world… at least until I could get away to freak out in private.

"I'm Cass," I blurted, jerking into motion a little abruptly. I cleared my throat and offered what I hoped was an apologetic smile. "Sorry, long night. Kinda zoned out for a minute there."

"Yeah, looks like it," MacCready remarked, arching an eyebrow at Gavin, who was still sleeping through all of this. Most of his bruises had already faded away, but he was still a pretty sorry sight.

"Ain't no party like a Goodneighbor party!" I replied, a touch too enthusiastically. They all looked at me like I had started speaking in Cantonese; my cheeks flushed and I ducked my head. Rein it in, Cass.

"Sorry. I think I'm at the point of sleep deprivation where I start getting weird," I said, still talking too quickly. I added a chuckle to try to sound more natural and immediately regretted it. "Listen, I'm dead on my feet. I'll, uh, just leave you three to catch up."

I started for the door, but Hancock stuck a leg out in my path to stop me.

"Runnin' off so soon?"

Don't panic. He's not trying to interrogate you.

I tried to arrange my features in a flippant expression. "If you want me to be able to actually function in the bar tonight, then yes." An impulse hit me, and I smiled at Nate and MacCready. "If you guys are around, you should come by. I'll be a little less socially awkward after some sleep, and I'll even get you a couple drinks on the house… so long as you don't tell my boss."

I winked, and Hancock shoved me lightly.

"You little shit," he said, chuckling.

"Deal," MacCready said with a grin. "It'd be nice to kick back in the Rail again. I've even sort of missed that grumpy old robot."

My smile turned a little more genuine as my anxiety ebbed. "Then it's a date."

Nate stopped me again before I could leave, and reached out to shake my hand.

"Nice meeting you, Cass."

I accepted the handshake automatically, noting the hint of military formality that Nate showed in the gesture. It was meant to be friendly, surely, but I felt an uncomfortable pull in my gut when his eyes marked the tattoos on my forearm. More than anyone else, he'd be likely to recognize that my ink wasn't the result of improvised stick-and-poke jobs… he would have seen at least a few real tattoos in his pre-war life. It could tip him off that I wasn't a normal wastelander. He didn't say anything, though. He simply held on for another second longer and then released me with a small smile.

I gave them all a quick nod and then disappeared down the stairs before they could stop me again. Nate existing as my Sole Survivor complicated things; I needed some time to try to think this all through. After I had gotten some sleep first, though. At the moment my brain felt like so much cotton fluff between my ears; I couldn't think my way out of a paper bag, let alone an existential crisis. I needed to be firing on all cylinders if I was going to figure this one out.

Several hours of (restless) sleep later, and I still wasn't any closer to making heads or tails of my Nate walking around in the flesh. Out of all the crazy things that I'd experienced so far, this was definitely the most insane. I mean, either my character looking exactly like the Sole Survivor here was an unbelievable coincidence, or I had some kind of god-level influence in his creation that I was nowhere near comfortable with accepting.

I mean, how did that even work, exactly? Logically Nate would have had an entire life before the events of the game started. Did my choices as his character just kick in after he made it to the vault? Was he a different person before I stepped in, so to speak? And I designed his appearance… did that mean I had some effect on his family as well, since that's where his genes would have come from? Trying to puzzle it all out was like disappearing down a Wikipedia black hole; I was only creating more questions than answers.

I rolled over on my lumpy mattress and tried to be objective. This latest twist in the nuclear Land of Oz didn't necessarily impede my ability to find a way home, no matter how disquieting it might be. What I really needed to focus on was discovering where to find the Wizard… and how I was going to convince him to reverse whatever hocus-pocus he did to get me here.

Come to think of it, solving the mystery of Nate might be the easier task of the two.

I'm not certain how much longer I dozed… I drifted in between brainstorming and restless sleep, so it could've been minutes or hours. All I know is that an indeterminate amount of time later, someone woke me up by pounding on my door, hard.

"Fuck!" I yelped, startled by the noise. I jerked to my feet… or would have, if I hadn't been burrito'd in a blanket. So instead I lurched upwards like a drunken caterpillar and crashed to the ground, knocking over the nightstand next to my bed in the process.

I'm really, really glad no one was here to see that.

There was another few pounds on the door. Whoever it was clearly didn't know that patience was a virtue… especially when dealing with a still-groggy me. I groaned and stiffly unraveled myself so that I could get up to answer.

"Hancock, if this is your idea of getting back at me for last night, I've got a baseball bat I'd like you to meet," I grumbled at the door. "Also, you lost points on originality."

I slid the lock open. The instant that click registered in the air, the door burst inwards. I stumbled back to avoid getting slammed in the face, and tripped over the blanket I'd left on the ground behind me. I hit the ground a second time with a steady stream of swearwords coming out of my mouth.

"What is your fucking probl…. Oh." I blinked up in surprise at the individuals standing in front of me. "Oh shit."

"Grab her!"

I scrambled backwards, pulling my ankle out of reach just as one of the intruders tried to snag it. These men were very clearly not friendly. There were three of them, and they were all dressed in the same olive-green fatigues. I didn't spend a lot of time checking them out, but they had hardened expressions that told me they weren't dicking around (if, you know, breaking into my room wasn't already enough of a clue).

I pushed myself to my feet and ran back into my room, around the side of my bed. I had a nail-studded baseball bat that I'd bought off of KLEO with some tips shortly after I began working at the Third Rail… my knife was handy and all, but I'd wanted something with a little more oomph, just in case. I still wasn't great with a gun, but I'd briefly experimented with softball during my formative years. I could swing a bat a lot more effectively than I could put a bullet through a target.

I wrapped my hand around the base of the bat just as the three men shoved through the narrow entry. I could see that they were carrying guns, but they didn't have them drawn… which meant they didn't want to kill me, or they thought they could take me down without them. Not a far-fetched assumption on their part, really.

They didn't bother with trying to talk me into dropping my weapon, which told me they were professionals. They knew as much as I did that I wasn't going to give up or trust them, and weren't going to waste time pretending otherwise. They split up to corner me, each one moving in a little closer with every breath. I contemplated yelling out for help, but knew it wouldn't do me much good. There was no one within earshot who would be willing to take on three armed men just to save my ass.

When the man to my right (let's call him Jackass #1) stepped within range of my bat, I swung. He dropped to the ground and I missed him by centimeters (though my bat made a nice hole in the wall). Jackass #2 darted in from my left and cracked what felt like a security baton across my ribs. Searing pain lanced up my chest and around my back; suddenly I couldn't get a whole breath in. I tried to swing my bat again, but the first guy blocked it easily and yanked it out of my hands. The guy on my left backhanded me across the face (I literally saw stars), and while I was still dazed he grabbed me by the neck and flung me down onto bed.

"That was almost too easy," middle guy said contemptuously. He'd done nothing but stand there the entire time, so I pegged him as the leader… a.k.a. Captain Jackass.

I could feel the two men behind me begin to tie my wrists and ankles together. I began to thrash and struggle until one of them pinned a knee or elbow against the back of my throat.

"Let me go!" I gasped. It wasn't very threatening, but I wasn't getting a whole lot of air into my lungs at the moment. "What the fuck do you dickless wonders want?"

I really needed to work on how mouthy I got when I was scared.

"Don't act like you don't know, synth," Captain Jackass sneered. Synth? What the fuck? "You've got a hell of a lot of caps on your head."

"You got the wrong girl, Einstein." I couldn't help but wince as I spoke; my ribs were on fire. "Not a synth."

El Capitan put a leg up on the end of the bed and leaned in closer to me. "Bounty's on a young girl, pale skin, dark hair…"

"Congrats, you just described about 40% of the population."

"… and covered in tattoos."

Well, shit.

"These things?" I wiggled uncomfortably; they were pulling those bindings awfully tight. "Not real. Drew them on last night for funsies."

He reached forward suddenly. A tiny yelp escaped me when he grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulled my head back to make me look up at him.

"You're gonna make us a lot of caps, synth," he sneered. "And the bounty said alive, but didn't say shit about what condition to bring you in. So unless you'd like me to have these boys beat you within an inch of your stolen life, you oughta start being a little nicer to me."

I spit at him. It seemed like the thing to do; he was pissing me off something fierce, and I didn't want him to see how terrified I actually was. That earned me another backhand (this time across the other cheek, so at least they were keeping things symmetrical). Then a ball of cloth was stuffed into my mouth while another was wrapped around my face.

"That oughta shut her up," one of the others said… not sure if it was #1 or #2.

"Let's get out here, then," Captain Jackass said, dusting off his hands like he'd done a hard day's work. "I wanna get out of here before we run into that ghoul mayor."

"Town really went to shit after he killed Vic."

"Yeah, no kidding."

#1 picked me up and threw me over his shoulder. I struggled a bit, but there was no real point to it; I was trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey. Even if I managed to wiggle myself out of his grip, I'd just end up on the floor… and I already had enough bruises.

They started to walk out, chatting casually like this was something they did every day (then again, it probably was). I was feeling steadily more panicked with each step they took. Where the hell were they taking me? Who would put a bounty out on my head? I was unknown in the Commonwealth at large, and even those who knew me didn't know that there was anything unusual or special about me. I hadn't seriously wronged anyone that I knew of. And why would they think I was a synth?

They reached the hotel lobby. None of the usuals- Fred, Rufus, or Clair- were around, which wasn't surprising. They'd probably seen these guys come in and lit out before they could get dragged into any trouble. But we'd only crossed about halfway through the room when all three kidnappers came to a stop.

"Well, well, well… what's goin' on here?"

I was so relieved to hear that familiar raspy voice that I could've cried. I'd be mortified that I'd been so easily subdued and snatched up later, but right now I'd take whatever help I could get.

I heard #1 swear quietly under his breath, and Captain Jackass stepped forward.

"Nothing to see here, Hancock," he said, in a tone that was very friendly-but-not. "Just a little Gunner business. Not any of your concern."

"Is that so?"

"Just a little piece of ass that needs to be taken home," Captain continued. He slapped my butt to illustrate his point as he talked; I couldn't fight back, but managed to scream "MOTHERFUCKER" loud enough to make it audibly past the gag.

"Huh." I couldn't see Hancock, but I could hear the cold tone his voice. "Now, the way I see it, you're roughin' up one of my citizens, on my turf. So I'd say that makes it absolutely my concern."

I could hear the click of the safety going off on a gun.

"And I'm not real fond of kidnapping, myself," came Nate's voice. "What's she done to you?"

"There's a bounty out of her head," Captain Jackass explained tersely. "A big one. She's more trouble than she's worth to you, mayor. You don't wanna pick a fight with the Gunners over some little synth bitch."

I could hear the tinkle of breaking glass, and a millisecond later #2 jerked back and fell to the ground. I could see a neat little hole in his forehead; someone had blown his brains out. Then there was the louder pop of Nate's rifle going off. #1 shouted in pain as his leg buckled; he lost his grip and dropped me to the ground.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" Captain Jackass yelled, whipping his gun around to the front. #1 simply stayed down, clutching at his leg. It looked like Nate had kneecapped him.

"Yeah, that'd be MacCready," Nate said dispassionately. "Guess he's still a little pissed at you guys for making his life hell for so many years."

"Then what's your excuse?" Captain demanded.

Nate shrugged. "Finger slipped."

Captain Jackass glowered. "You two better drop the guns and call off that turncoat sonofabitch right now or I swear to god-"

Nate's rifle rang out again, and Captain Jackass dropped to the floor. It was so quick that the merc didn't even have time to squeeze his own trigger.

"Hey, I had that one covered," Hancock complained, but he was grinning. "Guess that just leaves one…"

#1 held up bloodstained hands. "I give! We weren't gonna get paid that much."

Hancock smirked. "Smart choice." He glanced over his shoulder as Fahrenheit walked in, looking ready for a fight but also extremely unimpressed at the same time. "Find anything?"

"It was just these three," she said, kicking at the boot of Captain Jackass's body. Then she looked over at me and snickered. "They catch you on an off day there, princess?"

My response was muffled by the gag, but I know she got the gist by the way her grin broadened.

"Do me a favor, Fahre, and send someone to clean this mess up," Hancock said, slinging his shotgun back around his hips. "Clair'll gut me for makin' a mess of her lobby. And why don't you take this asshole with you… have a little chat about who sent them, and why."

Fahrenheit could have easily sprouted fangs, and it wouldn't have looked out of place with her expression.

"My pleasure."

She hauled Jackass #1 up by the armpits, making him whimper in pain as she jostled his injured leg. Then she half-dragged/half-steered him out the door, humming tunelessly to herself as she did so.

Hancock crouched next to me. He took in my appearance with a quick sweep of his eyes; I could see the muscles tighten in his jaw when he did. I was sure that I looked just as wonderful as I felt, if not worse.

"Need a little help with that, doll?" he asked. He gently reached behind my head to untie my gag; his thumbs just barely brushed over my cheekbones, and I winced as the contact stung.

"Are you alright?" Nate asked concernedly. "Those guys were real pieces of work."

"Cowardly, cocksucking mouthbreathers!" I growled, stretching my aching jaw as Hancock used his knife to slit the bindings on my wrists and ankles. "Who the fuck brings three guys to ambush one girl?"

"Good question," Nate murmured.

Hancock pulled me to my feet. I crossed my arms, but couldn't really hide how much I was shaking. Anger and adrenaline had dulled the worst of the trauma, but now that the excitement was over I could feel the shock starting to creep through my brain. I couldn't stop staring at the bodies of the two mercs.

"Hey." Hancock bumped my shoulder, and nodded his head towards the door. "Whattya say we grab a drink. Looks like you could use one."