Chapter Ten: Chasing Shadows

Nora felt quietly amused as Danse and Rhys marched past Deacon, completely oblivious to his presence. The agent had changed his disguise again, now donning a denim jacket, worn trousers and a paper boy cap over his sunglasses. He was stood at the base of the statue just inside Bunker Hill's gates, lazily flicking through a copy of Publick Occurences, though she knew he was more likely to be listening to the conversation around him rather than reading.

She came to a halt beside him, Righteous Authority still in her arms. "That the latest issue?"

"Yup, got to keep up with the news. I mean, did you know that the Institute replaced the brahmin in Diamond City with synth cattle?"

"I hadn't heard that…" Nora frowned.

"No. Neither have I because it didn't happen." Deacon quipped, folding the paper and smiling. "You really should read the article about Diamond City's guard training a deathclaw for patrols, though. Their arguments for it are really convincing…"

"And entirely fabricated, right?" Nora sighed, rolling her eyes.

"Would I lie to you? Seriously, it's on page five. You should give it a read." He insisted, waving the paper at her. Her frown deepening, she cautiously took the paper from him, trying to balance her rifle in her arms as she opened it. "It's right under the article titled 'gullible'."

Nora snorted, shaking her head as she shoved the paper back at him. "I can't believe you almost got me. You're a really convincing liar!"

"I try!" Deacon smirked, his chest puffing out with pride.

Nora grinned, raising an eyebrow. "Now look at who's gullible."

"Awww c'mon, you're breaking my heart here!" Deacon grinned, shaking his head. "But in all seriousness, my holiday's on hold for now. We've got a problem."

"A Geiger counter kind of problem or…?"

"Knight." At Danse's bark, she turned to find him and Rhys approaching, rifles in hand and expressions dark. She glanced back, only to find that Deacon had disappeared, his newspaper the only evidence that he had been there at all.

"What's wrong?" She frowned, feeling a twinge of anxiety as she glanced between them.

"Haylen and Burke are missing." Danse had adopted his steely Paladin expression, masking his emotions.

"Missing? Both of them?!" Nora felt her stomach drop and her eyes widen.

"The Squire disappeared shortly before noon. Haylen eventually left the compound when she couldn't find him inside it. Neither have returned. Myself and Rhys will take the search outside. You are to remain here, in the event that either of them return and require assistance."

Nora nodded. "Yes, sir."

"We'll rendezvous back at the room tonight, should neither myself nor Rhys find any trace of them."

"Are we moving out yet, sir?" Rhys scowled impatiently, his grey gaze already fixed on the street beyond the gate.

"Affirmative." Before Nora could say another word, the Paladin and Knight began to jog towards the entrance, the booming thunder of Danse's armour drawing attention. Nora watched as they began to descend the steps, frowning.

I should have offered Rhys my power armour…

She exhaled heavily, glancing around for Deacon though all she could see was a mixture of merchants and caravan guards, along with the occasional coat of Gunner green. Finally, she began to make her way towards the Savoldi's bar, eager to get out of her power armour before beginning her own search.

She collected a spare key from Tony, listening to what he knew about the Squire and Scribe's disappearances, before moving up the stairs towards their room. When she reached the door, she paused, her eyes narrowing.

It was slightly ajar. Warily, she nudged it open and peered inside.

Deacon was sat on the bed, Sentinel clasped between his hands. He glanced up as she entered and smiled. "Welcome back! I thought I'd let myself in, you know, mi Casa su Casa. That's a saying from your time, right? I read it in a book."

"I was wondering where you'd gotten to." Nora sighed, exiting her power armour. "I've got an emergency."

"No shit! You too, huh?" Deacon asked, testing the small zipper on the teddy's jacket. He grinned when it actually worked. Nora eased Righteous Authority from the arms of her power armour, slinging it over her shoulder and adjusting the leather strap.

"This is serious, Deacon. Two of my friends are missing!"

"I know. I can help you find one of them." He smiled crookedly when Nora turned to face him.

"What?"

"Remember the problem I was telling you about before Danse and Grumpy interrupted us?" He asked, dropping the bear back onto Burke's sleeping bag. "It turns out that one of your problems has become one of our problems…"

Earlier that day…

"It's not fair!" Burke fumed, folding his arms stubbornly and scowling at the floor. "I'm supposed to see them in combat situations! They can't just leave me behind!" He winced when Haylen began to gently dab something onto his shoulders and ground his teeth. The gouges left by the hound were mostly bearable, until the Scribe felt the need to clean them, which she did daily.

"Whether it's fair or not doesn't matter, Squire. Orders are orders."

"Orders are orders." Burke parroted, rolling his eyes. Haylen sighed, shaking her head as she rummaged in her pack to retrieve dressings for the wounds. They were healing better than she had hoped and, annoying as he was, the Squire had shown remarkable resilience ignoring any discomfort they caused. "How come Knight Rhys got to go with them?"

"Because Rhys is a capable soldier-"

"Does that mean you're not?" Burke interrupted, his tone sly and sharp.

"Oh believe you me, Squire Burke, I'm just as tough as any of those three." Haylen frowned, fixing the dressings in place with some medical tape. "You can ask any of the others. I'm a field scribe for a reason. Maybe the Paladin thought Rhys couldn't handle you as well as I can. Anyway, we're done."

Burke jumped out of the seat immediately, drawing his flannel shirt back over his arms. "Finally." He grumbled.

"Why? Got someplace to be?" Haylen's lips twitched in amusement.

"I'm going for a walk." Burke sniffed, fastening the buttons on his shirt.

"Don't you mean we're going for a walk? I'm not letting you out of my sight." Haylen said firmly, reaching for her hood and goggles.

"I don't need a babysitter!" Burke scowled, heading towards the door.

"Squire." He paused, caught off guard by her steely tone. "You're being insubordinate. Keep this up and I'll lock you in this room, revoke all privileges and recommend your immediate return to the Prydwen."

Burke's eyes narrowed as he turned to look at her, his green glare measuring her up. She watched with a stern expression, careful not to let her amusement show. She could practically see the cogs turning inside his head as he tried to decide whether or not she would actually carry out her threats. Finally he huffed, scuffing his boot on the floor. "Sorry. Ma'am."

"There, that wasn't so hard now, was it?" Haylen folded her arms, deciding it was best to keep up a stern façade. "Now, I intend to head down and browse the stalls. Provided you behave yourself and stay close, you may accompany me. Or you can stay here."

"I'll go with you, Ma'am. I promise to behave."

Haylen wasn't entirely sure that she trusted the gleam in his eyes, but she shrugged it off. The boy had mostly behaved himself ever since she and Rhys had arrived. What's the worst that could happen?

She checked for her cap pouch, fastened to her utility belt before nodding. "Then let's get going."

"Can I have some chewing gum, Ma'am?" Burke asked, leaning against the counter and pulling his best puppy dog eyes. Haylen, who had been studying a haptic drive glanced down at him, looking mildly annoyed.

"No, Burke. Those things are bad for your teeth and not worth the caps you pay for them."

"Then what about some snack cakes?"

"No. Those are treats. Besides, lunchtime isn't far off. I'll get you something to eat then."

"…Knight Hart and Paladin Danse let me have snack cakes for dinner." He muttered sourly, folding his arms.

"And I'll bet you slept poorly that night due to the sugar." Haylen replied dryly, shaking her head. One thing Hart and Danse had in common was a love of sweet things. It hardly surprised her to learn they'd made a meal of cakes.

"Actually we didn't sleep well because of mutant abominations." Burke sniffed, turning his back to her and peering around the plaza. There were all sorts of people milling around there, some of them looking rougher than others. I wonder if any of them are raiders…

As he glanced around, idly guessing at the identities of strangers, he found his eyes drawn towards a tall woman with long flaxen hair. She was striding purposefully through the crowd, her expression stern and eyes carefully surveying all who moved around her. He glanced away when her eyes passed over him and Haylen, noting from the corner of his eye the way her gaze lingered on the Scribe's back for a few moments. I suppose our uniforms do stick out… Burke thought for a few moments, before remembering that his own uniform had been torn to pieces and discarded.

He couldn't quite suppress a small smile at the thought. It felt good to know people wouldn't immediately look upon him and think him from the Brotherhood. As he idly fantasised about blending in with the crowd and away from Haylen's sight, he returned his gaze to the woman who had come to a halt at old man Stockton's stall. It took him a few moments to realize just what it was about the woman that had drawn his gaze. She's got a coat a bit like the Elder's. Not as nice, though.

The woman's coat was shorter for one thing, singed and dirty, some of the armoured plating exposed through the leather. He hadn't seen any before that were quite like it, the Elder's being far superior in aesthetics and quality, he decided.

The moment Stockton saw her, his face paled, though he kept his expression neutral. Burke tilted his head, glancing back at Haylen to find her scrutinising some weird gizmo. He rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to Stockton and the woman, only to find that the old man was walking away behind his stall, the woman following in his footsteps. He watched as they disappeared into a storage closet, closing the door behind them.

He could scarcely believe it. Stockton had left his counter completely unattended!

Burke glanced back at the Scribe once more, ensuring that she was still engrossed in her tech and bartering, before he slipped away, disappearing into the crowd. When he reached Stockton's counter, he checked that Haylen was still distracted before stepping behind it, his eyes scanning the pigeon holes for any loose caps or treats. To his delight, there were a few caps and even a golden pocket watch. It was too great a treasure to resist.

He stuffed them quickly into his pockets, trying to ignore the voices in his head that insisted stealing was wrong and beneath him. They sounded suspiciously like the Paladin's voice. As he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and turned his attention back to the Scribe, he cussed.

Haylen was turning around on the spot, looking for him, her expression a mixture of worry and anger. For a moment, he considered hurrying back to her side and playing innocent. Then his devilish side kicked in and he began looking for a place to hide. He quite liked the idea of the adults worrying over him.

He ducked towards a stack of rusting shelves loaded with small wooden pallet boxes and slipped behind them, stifling his giggles. He'd undoubtedly be in trouble later, but he was too caught up in the moment to give a damn what the others would think. If they didn't want to lose me they should have taken me with them…

He waited a few minutes before poking his head around the corner and scanning the crowd for any sign of Haylen. He couldn't see her. A Cheshire grin spread across his lips and he made to step out, when he heard the door of the storage closet opening. He quickly withdrew, cursing under his breath as Stockton emerged, tapping the concrete with his walking stick as he returned to his counter. Burke held his breath, praying the old man didn't start looking through the pigeon holes for the caps or the watch.

It was only when his initial panic subsided that he realised the woman had yet to emerge. He frowned, glancing at the wall to his left. The shelves had been set right next to the storage closet. He slipped towards the wall and pressed his ear against the planks, but he couldn't hear anything. Why would she stay in there…?

"Stockton!" He held his breath, carefully nudging one of the wooden pallets aside with his fingers, watching as a tall, bearded man approached Stockton's counter. "Stockton, we need to talk. We can't keep the caravans running like this! We're taking too many hits!"

"Hold your brahmin, Dan. I'm already spending a good fortune on caravan protection-"

"Not enough with this mutant crisis!" Dan scowled, beckoning to him. "Come and see just how many brahmin and goods survived travelling back from Diamond City! Hell if I hadn't been leading this particular venture, there wouldn't be anything left at all!"

Stockton sighed through his nose before nodding, making his way around the counter. "As if I didn't have troubles enough… Meg! Keep an eye on the counter for me while I'm gone and there's some caps in it for you!" Stockton called as he moved beside Dan. "Anyone asks about Geiger counters, you send them to me. You hear?"

"Of course!" Piped up an overly cheerful voice. Burke rolled his eyes as Meg, Kay's daughter pulled herself up onto the counter, waving the two men off. He had only spoken to her a few times and didn't like her, whatever Tara said. The girl was obsessed with caps and little else.

He waited a few moments before slipping out from behind the shelves, carefully watching Meg. He had little doubt she'd sell him out. He moved as stealthily as he could, hardly daring to breathe. He was just about to walk past the stockroom door when the girl began to turn her head. He didn't even think. Suddenly he had eased the door ajar and slipped inside, pulling it closed behind him.

Good thing it wasn't locked… He thought, turning to look around him. The space was small but cramped, shelves and boxes clustered along the walls brimming with goods. Including boxes of snack cakes. Burke cheered internally as he tiptoed towards the shelves. As he reached his hands towards the piles of boxes, he heard a soft clink and glanced down, watching as one of his ill gained caps rolled away across the floor behind some boxes.

Sighing, Burke lowered his hands and moved towards the boxes, peering over the top of them… which was how he discovered the trap door.

It reminded him a bit of some of the doors on the Prydwen, solid metal with a valve and keyhole. Had it been fully closed, entering would have proven impossible, but some sack cloth had been caught in it, preventing it from shutting. Burke felt his heart begin to beat faster. Was it Stockton's secret stash? Would it be full of caps? Weapons?

He knew he was already in for a world of trouble if he was caught in here, with caps and a watch he didn't own. What difference would a little more adventuring do? If Nora and the Paladin wanted me to stay out of trouble, they should have taken me with them. He decided, nodding to himself as he clambered over the boxes and to the door.

It was heavy, but opened silently on well-oiled hinges. He stared down into the space below. Metal rungs set into the wall led down towards a stone stairwell, illuminated by lamps set along the wall. He hesitated only a moment before descending.

He could feel his heart hammering wildly in his chest, adrenaline making him giddy with excitement. This must be where that woman went.

Licking his lips, he began to make his way down the wide stone steps, moving as stealthily as he could. He had been the pride of the class when it came to scouting and he found that the skills continued to serve him well.

He grinned stupidly, imagining that he was descending into the bowels of a dungeon… no. The Institute. He'd shoot the evil scientists and their synth abominations, all of them. He'd be the hero of the Commonwealth! He'd travel back to the Prydwen and the Elder would salute him, looking proud whilst Kells, his tutors, Danse and Nora would applaud and his mother…

The dream died. He forced himself to shake it out of his head, trying to ignore the stab of sorrow in his heart. No. He would not triumph as a Brotherhood Knight or Paladin. Instead, he'd do it as a Minuteman. He'd have a hat and a coat and…

"…no idea where they keep coming from! It makes it impossible to safely move the packages across the Commonwealth!"

Burke snapped out of his reverie, coming to a halt on the stairs.

"You don't think it could be the Institute, do you?" Came a worried voice. "Maybe they're causing it to weaken the Commonwealth!"

Burke's eyes grew wide. The Institute?! He began to creep further down the stairs, warily trying to peer around the column of stone at its centre. If I find stuff out about the Institute, maybe I won't get in trouble… maybe I could be a hero…

"I don't know. Mutants have been known to converge and form hordes before. Maybe they're just being driven to it. The Brotherhood's been doing a good job of eradicating them in the East, not to mention the Minutemen have recently been clearing out the hives closest to their settlements."

"This is awful. I thought running from the Institute was bad enough, but mutants too? And the Brotherhood?"

Burke finally reached the bottom of the staircase and quickly ducked behind some nearby crates, his heart pounding so loudly in his ears he had to strain to hear over it. Warily, he peered around the side of the crate.

The blonde haired woman from the plaza was sitting on a plastic chair, her coat puddled on the floor beside her seat. A nervous looking man was stood in front of her, wringing his hands and staring at her face with wide, terrified eyes.

"The Brotherhood won't be a problem, J-23. They're not even sure the Railroad really exists. So long as we keep out of their way and act like good little civilians, they'll act like we don't even exist.

The Railroad…? What's the Railroad? And why don't they like the Brotherhood?

As he watched, a man emerged from a tunnel just beyond where the man and woman were talking, a med-kit in his hands. He was shaking his head, glaring at the blonde woman with disapproval written all over his face. "You shouldn't treat this like a game, Pilgrim. If it was that simple, the Brotherhood and Commonwealth wouldn't be so dangerous for the synths. And what were you thinking, walking straight into the Hill without a disguise?"

"Give me a break, Snipe. I came here for treatment and to report in. Not get a lecture." Pilgrim frowned, sitting up. Snipe muttered something under his breath as he opened the kit box and handed her a bottle of purified water. Pilgrim cracked it open and downed half the bottle in a single gulp. "Mm… Much better than the shit I was drinking enroute," she sighed, leaning back in her chair as Snipe dropped a bag of Radaway onto her lap.

"I'm just going to get some fresh needles. You sit tight and try not to give yourself another injury." Burke watched as Snipe disappeared back down the tunnel, leaving the other two to speak again.

"Do you think they'll move me soon?" The man asked anxiously, to which the woman shrugged before downing the rest of her water and throwing the bottle across the room. Burke recoiled, holding his breath as the plastic rolled over beside him, bumping against the wall.

"Hard to say. That's part of why our operations run so smoothly though. Everything's strictly need to know. Less leaks that way." The woman sounded tired, and when he dared to peek around the corner again, he saw that her chin had lowered towards her chest.

The nervous man heaved his shoulders in a silent sigh, rubbing the back of his neck before moving in Burke's direction. Burke backpedalled sharply, cursing the water bottle for rolling in his direction. There was nowhere for him to hide back there. If the man looked to the left, he'd be spotted!

Burke steeled himself, taking a deep breath and tensing his body, ready to sprint. He listened as the man's footsteps drew closer, his eyes growing wide as J-23 stepped into his line of sight. The man was quite small, not too much taller than Burke. As he crouched down to pick up the bottle, he began to turn his head and Burke acted.

He surged towards the man, holding his breath as he shoved him over. J-23 let out a frightened bleat as he fell, and Burke heard Pilgrim sit bolt upright though he didn't dare to look, instead scrambling up the staircase.

He heard the woman shout somewhere behind him and began to run even faster. Suddenly the lights went out on the stairs and he gasped, his foot missing a step and sending him sprawling back down the stone steps. He couldn't help the yelp of pain that escaped his lips. The edges of the stone were sharp and he felt like his shins and stomach had been skinned.

He could hear heavy footsteps on the stairs behind him and knew he was being followed. Panting, he scrambled forwards on his hands and knees, desperately fighting to clamber up the stairs. The way the footsteps echoed behind him, he couldn't tell where they were, how close. He tried to remember how many steps he had left to climb, when the lights suddenly flickered to life and he heard Stockton shout "what the hell is going on down there?!"

Burke turned his head to see Pilgrim rounding the corner, speeding her step now that she could see the stairs. Burke launched back to his feet, clawing at the wall as he tried to speed up. He could hear footsteps moving down from above and felt his heart lurch into his mouth. He was trapped.

Suddenly he was yanked backwards, choking as Pilgrim seized his shirt collar. "Stop right there kid." She growled, turning him to face her.

Burke thrashed wildly, kicking out. His foot struck the woman in the abdomen and she gasped in pain, doubling over and dropping him, her arms folding defensively over her stomach. Burke barely managed to catch his balance as he fell and began to sprint away once more, rounding the corner-

WHACK.

Burke made a strangled sound as Stockton's stick lashed out and caught his stomach, winding him. Burke staggered, teetering on the edge before the old man seized him by the scruff of his shirt and pulled him forwards.

"What is this boy doing down here?!" He thundered, his face turning puce with anger beneath his hat. Burke was still gasping for air, slapping uselessly at the old man's hand which had formed a vicelike grip. He could feel the chain of his mother's holotags biting painfully into his neck.

"I don't know." He could hear the woman behind him spitting from between her teeth. "He came out of nowhere, knocked J-23 over and ran."

Burke found himself being shoved roughly down the stairs, Stockton refusing to relinquish his grip. Burke was struggling to breathe. Pilgrim staggered down in front of him, still doubled over. The man called Snipe soon ascended the stairs and wordlessly ducked under her arm, helping her down the rest of the way. The moment they were back on level ground, Stockton shoved Burke forward. A number of people were now gathered there, frowning at him.

"Would someone mind explaining to me just how this scrap of a boy managed to get into my safe house?!" Stockton roared, his piercing blue eyes little more than narrow slits. "Or why the trapdoor was wide open when I came into the stockroom?!"

"Maybe he's an Institute spy!" J-23 cried, resulting in a few of the people gathered gasping in horror.

Burke felt his face redden as he tried to stand taller. "I'm not with the Institute! I'm with the Brotherhood!" He spat defiantly, regretting his words the moment he said them. If anything, the air seemed to only grow frostier, the strangers glaring down at him.

"Oh I know that already!" Stockton snapped. "How did you get down here?! What have you heard?!"

"He's already seen me!" J-23 cried, pointing a trembling finger at him. "He's now seen all of us!"

"We can't let him just walk out of here." Pilgrim scowled, stubbornly standing as Snipe eased up her shirt, revealing soiled bandages that were beginning to darken further.

"He's just a kid. What're you going to do? Kill him?" A man drawled, raising his eyebrows.

"You're going to kill me?!" Burke squeaked, his voice shrill and eyes wide.

"Don't be ridiculous." Stockton snapped, stamping his walking stick for emphasis. "We don't murder innocents or children! Besides, his Brotherhood guardians would come looking and I will not risk drawing any further unwanted attention!"

"So what do we do?" Another woman asked. All eyes turned to Stockton. The old man huffed, hunching his shoulders and glancing around, before his eyes finally settled on a crate. He pointed with his walking stick.

"Put him in there."

A/N: So just a quick apology about this and the previous chapter's being so late. I was ill and University has been busy with a lot of work due in so I had to make it a priority, and then I struggled with this chapter & the last one because I was so drained from it. I hope you've enjoyed reading about Haylen & Burke's misadventures though and thank you all so much for continuing to read & review! It means a lot! C: