Chapter 11

It was pitch black.

Then there were lights, blinding and shining directly into their eyes. The familiar whir of a mini-gun trilled in front, and Dawn and MacCready were frozen into place from the threat ahead.

"Stop right there!"

The quick rush of adrenaline made the lights even brighter, and he squinted to see the woman who shouted her firm command. She stood in-between two other guards, one pointing a rifle and the other holding up a mini-gun. Both weapons were aimed at them. The woman, however, showed no weapon drawn but instead held a cigarette. She looked too relaxed, like one would be if they were going for a quick smoke outside, but the hard look in her heavily lined eyes showed no such casualness.

Dawn took the hint and held her hands up in a cool surrender, but MacCready kept his rifle firmly in his grip as he eyed the trio.

The woman puffed on her cigarette, tendrils of smoke surrounding her as she spoke her next words. "You went through a lot of effort to arrange this meeting." Her eyes narrowed, the distrust evident when she squared her shoulders. "But before we go any further, answer my questions.

Who the hell are you?"

Dawn remained calm. "I followed the Freedom Trail looking for the Railroad." She slowly brought her hands down as she spoke. "I'm not your enemy."

MacCready couldn't help but clench his jaw as he watched the exchange in the side-lines. Dawn has this, he told himself. If there was going to be someone who can diffuse a hostile situation through talking, it would be her. But the woman ahead gave no indication of her intentions; would she talk or order their deaths? Nothing in her demeanour gave it away.

"If that's true, you have nothing to fear," her eyes narrowed. "Who told you how to contact us?"

"Dr. Amari told me how to find you." Dawn said as she gave MacCready a quick reassuring glance.

"Very interesting..." Her expression shifted, but a quick gesture from her hand caused the two body-guards to lower their guns. "Last question; why are you here?"

Dawn placed her hand in her pocket, pulling out a small lump wrapped in plastic. She quickly unwrapped it, the plastic discarded to the floor, and held the metal component up in the air to glint in the harsh light. "I have a courser chip."

The woman's façade was broken at the sight of the chip, cigarette in hand now forgotten and dropped to the floor. Dawn quickly pocketed the component as she waited for her response. MacCready involuntarily gulped as the silence seemed to stretch a beat too long. Finally, the woman crossed her arms and spoke. "And so you have. My name is Desdemona, I'm the leader of the Railroad. And you are?"

"Dawn."

His boss smirked as she crossed her arms, the sight of her body language eerily reminded MacCready of himself. Was she copying him? He took note to ask her about it later. From behind Desdemona, an unassuming man with sunglasses sauntered up to the trio. He seemed to be bored based by the way he aimlessly walked around the room, but the amused smile plastered on his face indicated that boredom was not an emotion he was feeling at that moment. The stranger walked up to the far wall and leaned up against it – and though it was hard to tell with the sunglasses, MacCready was perceptive enough to see that the stranger was looking at Dawn.

"I didn't know you were having a party," he said. His voice held a playful lilt to his tone, further adding to his amused aura. Somehow the room was less tense as soon as he spoke, undoing Desdemona's effort of creating an air of unease amongst the two newcomers. "What gives with my invitation?"

Desdemona seemed irritated by the stranger's presence, and she cast an annoyed glare to the man. "Deacon!" She barked. "You're late!"

Deacon ignored Desdemona's remark and paid his full attention to Dawn instead. "Oh, I see you've invited the Courser killer. Nice."

His offhand comment alarmed Desdemona, but only slightly. Reverting back to her stoic self she turned back to Deacon. "You're say this intruder actually killed a Courser? Single-handedly?"

"Don't believe me? You should see the Swan at the common, yeesh." Deacon grimaced as he shook his head. "That corpse is gonna stink up the place for weeks, and you think it smelled bad when it was alive."

"The Swan, huh?" The Railroad leader looked impressed as she surveyed Dawn. "Looks can be deceiving. And here I thought you were just another Scavver."

"News Flash, Dez," Deacon interjected as he started to list each point with his fingers. "This lady is kind of a big deal out there; she's the leader of the Minutemen! It seems like half of the Commonwealth is flying her flag. And – as if that wasn't enough – she's the one who got Nick Valentine out of a jam. Talked her way past Skinny Malone, too."

Desdemona never took her eyes away from Dawn as she listened to Deacon's intel, digesting his words whilst her harsh gazed scrutinized the vault-dweller. "Is that true?" She asked.

Dawn quickly held up her hand – almost like a schoolgirl would if they wanted to ask a question in class – and gave the Railroad members an apologetic smile. "Yes, it's true...but, uh...one sec." She turned on her heel and ran back down into the tunnels, leaving the remaining parties confused by her sudden disappearance.

Then the tunnels were filled with echoes of her retching.

"Oookay..." Deacon scratched the back of his head, slightly dislodging his black hair. When MacCready saw his hair shift in one piece, he realised that the agent was actually wearing a wig. Deacon and Desdemona gave each other a concerned look before diverting their attention to MacCready. "Is she alright?"

The sniper shrugged, unsure of whether or not to reveal Dawn's true state of wellbeing. Before he could open his mouth to reply, Dawn returned, looking more worse for wear than before. She pushed a hand through her hair to sweep it away from her face, but it only revealed just how pale and tired she was looking at that moment. Everyone watched her as she strode back to the middle of the room.

Voice hoarse, Dawn coughed before continuing. "So, where were we?"

MacCready sat by a large stone table, surrounded by other Railroad agents and members. Dawn and Desdemona were busy negotiating terms in regards to the Courser chip, the said object resting in the middle of the stone table like it was only there for decoration. He huffed as he pulled out another cigarette, placed it between his lips and lit it. It was partly as a distraction to keep himself from being bored, but the main reason why he has smoked his third cigarette within one hour was because of the feeling of eyes on his back.

And those eyes belonged to the man on the opposite side of the table, Deacon.

The sniper flitted his gaze back to the agent as he smoked, but lost his nerve with keeping eye-contact when he saw that Deacon was still openly watching the sniper. MacCready tipped his hat lower over his head as he exhaled a cloud of smoke, hopefully creating some sort of barrier between them. He turned his attention back to his boss – her raised and irritated voice piqued his interest.

"Fine," Dawn huffed. "You can keep the Courser chip after you've extracted the data."

Desdemona gave her a pleased smile. "Thank you for co-operation."

"But!" Dawn interjected with an index finger pointed at the chip. "I want all of the data on that chip. Everything you can find. After that, do what you want with it."

"Of course," the Railroad leader took the chip and handed it over to a jittery young man behind her. "Tinker Tom will get started on it right away. We'll let you know when it's done."

"Let me know?" Dawn scoffed, visibly displeased with how the transaction has turned out. "How long will it take to get the data?"

Desdemona shrugged as she folded her arms, her stance reflecting how the whole conversation had now bored her. "Days, weeks...we don't know." She nodded at Tinker Tom to begin, and he took her silent order with glee before delicately inspecting the chip with a peculiar set of goggles. "Deacon will find you when it's time."

Dawn narrowed her eyes at this, obvious distrust showing in her expression. "How will he know where to find me?"

An obnoxious laugh was barked across the table and everybody turned to face Deacon; who seemed amused by the notion of having his skills questioned. "Oh, trust me," he drawled. "We've crossed paths plenty. Finding you will be no problem. Although..." He tapped his chin with a finger as he mulled over his thoughts. "If you're up for a challenge, why don't you try to find me."

The young mercenary had enough. He stubbed out his half-smoked cigarette with a grimace, rolling his eyes before glaring at the cocky agent. "Great, we have a creepy stalker." MacCready stood up abruptly and faced Dawn. He shifted his weight on each foot in agitation, his need to get outside growing stronger. "C'mon, let's go. There's no point staying here."

He made a move for the exit but paused when he realised that Dawn was not following. She was still standing by the table, arms crossed and staring holes at Deacon.

"How long have you been following us?" She asked the agent.

Deacon gave her another amused snort. "Long enough, toots. Trust me, you're not the easiest to follow, but it's been fun. By the way, thanks for selling me the Pre-war tech, you drive a hard bargain. Tinker Tom had a field day with those."

"Bunker Hill?" She confirmed.

"Eh...among other places."

Dawn hummed in thought. She aimlessly tapped her arm as she digested this new piece of information. "Well, I look forward to seeing you again, Deacon. Thank you for your time." She finally made a move to join MacCready near the exit, and he let Dawn pass through and walk ahead of him.

He heard Desdemona speak to Deacon in a low voice, but it wasn't quiet enough for MacCready not to hear. "Who is Dawn's partner?" She pressed.

He could almost imagine Deacon's smirk as he said his next words. "Robert MacCready, and he's bad news."

As much as he wanted to turn around and punch Deacon, he had to follow his boss outside. They were too far into the tunnels to hear the rest of the conversation, but he tried to pay it no mind as they made their journey back outside.

Night had fallen. MacCready and Dawn agreed to trek back to Diamond City to rest and recover, mostly for Dawn to visit a doctor, but also for the mercenary to find the courier and see if there was a reply for his intel letter.

The gates to Diamond City were guarded as usual, but passage was easily given when a guard recognised Dawn and beckoned her inside. Their footsteps echoed down the corridor as they made their way through the stands, and as soon as the market came to view Dawn turned to her hired gun and gently handed him a bag of caps.

"Payday already?" He gave her a small smile as he took the bag from her. "Thanks, I'll meet you at the Dug Out in the morning."

But before he could turn to leave, Dawn reached out and held on to the crook of his elbow, keeping him from walking away. "Wait," she said as she hooked her arm fully around his. The gesture caught him off guard – a bit too close for his tastes – but he knew fully that she only held on to him to steady her tired body as they walked. "Help me to the doctors, please."

He readily obliged as he guided her to the medical stall in the market, where Doctor Sun was busily cleaning his tools. He wrinkled his nose when the pair approached the stall, and Doctor Sun immediately put his tools away before addressing them both.

"You stink," he grunted, shaking his head as he observed them. "What can I do for you?"

Dawn found the situation funny and coughed out a harsh laugh. She helped herself to a seat while MacCready stood idly by. "I've had a scuffle with the Swan in Boston Common," she began as she unbuckled her gun harness, "I was thrown into the Swan pond and I've swallowed some of the water. Pretty much been chucking up since then."

A startled look flickered on Doctor Sun's expression before he resorted back to his professional and neutral demeanour. He picked up a thermometer from a medical tray and proceeded with Dawn's inspection. "No signs of a fever," he muttered, "but I'll need to take a blood sample just in case."

She nodded in understanding, then turned to MacCready as she rifled into her pockets. "Hey, Mac. Get yourself a hot meal and help yourself to whatever at Homeplate. Don't waste your caps with a room at the inn, just take the spare bed and I'll meet you when I'm done." She handed him the key to her home before she leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes as Doctor Sun swabbed disinfectant into the crook of her arm.

MacCready took the key from her, puzzled with her intentions, and left her with the Doctor. He made a beeline to the end of the market, fluorescent lights flickering from above as he stood at the entrance of Dawn's home. He hesitated, the key hovering at the lock, and he considered the idea of finding the courier first before he did anything else. No, he thought, perhaps it was too early before he could get a reply from the Mass Pike Interchange, so he swiftly unlocked the door and entered inside.

He activated the circuit breaker by the entrance and the whole house was illuminated with orange light. There was a closed off area in the main room – corrugated metal was held up as a makeshift privacy screen – and behind it was a tap in the wall with a drain, a metal bucket and some soap. Dawn kept spare clothes in a chest nearby, which MacCready helped himself to a pair of military pants and vest, and then proceeded with scouring off all the dirt and blood that has accumulated on his skin.

He had finished changing before Dawn finally entered. She noticed the water dripping from his wet hair, smirking at the sight, then went off to do the same. MacCready decided to busy himself by lighting up a small fire in the makeshift stove, smoking a cigarette as he did so before putting a large iron pot on top of the fire.

"What did the doctor say?" He called out over the sounds of splashing water. He eyed some tins of canned food piled neatly on a shelf nearby, and he haphazardly took one and emptied the contents into the pot to heat up.

"He said I'll be fine," she called back. More splashing, a cough which sounded almost like a retch, and then a heavy sigh. "He gave me a shot of some kind, a drip, and some pills to get rid of the nausea." She paused. "A-Are you cooking?"

A small laugh escaped from his lips as he exhaled a puff of smoke, the mirth clouding around him as he stoked the fire. "I may know my way around guns, but that don't mean I'm lousy in the kitchen!"

"Oh really?" Her voice was muffled with the sounds of ruffled clothing as she spoke. "I just didn't take you as the domestic type. So, what's on the menu?"

"Domestic type?" He scoffed. "C'mon, cut me some slack here! I've just cooked up a delicious meal of marinated haricots a la porc with sun dried tomato dressing."

Dawn stifled a laugh with a snort as she stepped out of the private washroom, her hands wringing the water from her wet hair. "Is that a fancy way of saying Pork'n'Beans?"

"Pretty much," he scooped up the said meal into a bowl and handed it to her as she walked past. "Now don't go throwing this one up. Bon appetite."

She took it gladly, grabbing a spoon from a basket of cutlery from the table and sitting down next to him as he dished up his own meal. Dawn hummed as she slowly stirred her meal before eating a small spoonful of beans. "Where did you learn French?" She asked between bites.

He chewed his large mouthful of food, absently tapping the sides of his bowl with his fingers as he swallowed. "Knew this guy called Sinclair," he began. "He travelled all the way from Ronto, Canada. He hired me for a while, stopped working for him probably around three months before we met, but the guy constantly switched between English and French mid conversation. You kinda pick up on it after a while."

"Combien de français pouvez-vous comprendre?" She asked him, so fluidly she almost sounded like another person. MacCready shook his head in disbelief, digesting her words as he strained to pick up anything that sounded familiar.

"Uh, yeah. You've either said combine the French for me to understand, or you're asking if I can speak French." He could feel the tips of his ears burning at his poor translation of the language. Not wanting to dwell on his failure, he steered the subject back to her. "How the heck do you know French?"

Another small laugh from Dawn, which interrupted her from eating as her spoon hovered in the space between her bowl and mouth. "I've just asked how much French you can understand," Dawn put the spoon back into her bowl, now finished with her meal. "I learned mine when I was in school. Learning another language was mandatory back then. I tried Spanish... German too, but French just sounded nicer."

"Another pre-war custom, huh?"

She hummed in response. "I guess you could say that," she shrugged. "It all sounds so frivolous, learning a language because it sounds nice, and not because of necessity or survival. You don't have that luxury today. All the things I used to be worried about, or scared of...it's all so stupid if you compare it to now."

He scooped the last of his meal into his mouth, bowl now empty, and he set it aside as he chewed in thought. Curiosity took over as he studied her expression. "What were your fears back then, and what are your fears now?"

His question caught her off guard, and Dawn stared into the fire as she mulled over her response. She shifted slightly, an idle hand tucking a wet of strand of hair behind her ear, then heaved out a very forlorn sigh. "Back then, I was scared of making bad impressions. I was..." She gestured vaguely into the air as she tried to think of the right words, "I was a people pleaser. All the time I did and said things, not because I wanted to, but because I felt like I had to hold up a good reputation. I wasn't kind, not really...I just acted and talked that way. I never confronted people because of it, and I was always taken advantage of. Regardless, I couldn't speak up for myself. I didn't want bad blood with anyone, so I just laid down and played nice and hoped that everything would blow over."

Dawn paused, but MacCready let the silence hang in the air. It was hard to think of her as a pushover, someone who didn't retaliate to insults – not with the way she has been acting towards him anyway – but he was interested to find out what her fears were now. So, he kept quiet, and waited patiently for her to answer.

"Now," she began. "Now...I'm scared of many things. Genuine fears. I'm scared of being alone. I'm scared for my son. I'm...frightened of not being able to get to my son in time, or at all, and if I do... will he want to take me as his mother? What if... what if I've changed into a horrible person? What kind of fucked up mother will I be to him?"

The tight feeling returned to his chest as he listened. Everything she said, it all rang true to him. Duncan, the one and only thing truly important to him in this miserable wasteland worth fighting for; would he still want him as a father after leaving him in the care of someone else for so long? Would he ever be a good father to him when he returned?

Would Duncan hate him for being responsible for not saving his mother?

"What about you?" Her voice roused him from his brooding, and MacCready blinked a few times to clear his thoughts. Thinking of Duncan reminded him of his deal with the Gunners, and his mood soured as he contemplated telling Dawn the truth about his betrayal.

A lump rose in his throat, but he swallowed the confession back down.

"Ferals," he said simply as he stood up and stretched. "I'm going to bed."

He quickly strode over to the spare bed in the other side of Homeplate, away from her, away from his problems... and he seethed as one word screamed over and over at the back of his mind.

Coward.

He was a coward. A liar. A snake.

But he would do anything to protect Duncan.

Ohohoho! I knew my pathetic French skills will come in handy one day! Btw, I'm terrible at French, and I actually share Dawn's sentiments on the fact that I only learned the language because it sounded pretty. Spanish would have been easier because of my background with Tagalog, since I'm half Filipina, but what's life without regret eh?

Anyway, thank you once again for reading! And for those who have commented, thank you so much for your support. I love each and every one of you, and reading them really gave me the push to keep going!

I shall see you in the next update!