Hey guys. Let's begin.
O
I sat down at my lab, not eager for what I'd have to do. I'd just finished showing Amata around my home, a fun little tour I didn't get to do often enough. I then fed us, Amata and Dogmeat, and then she nearly passed out on my downstairs table. I helped her up to my bed, and let her sleep. I shaved, trimming the scrangy thing with a combat knife, then using a razor for the rest. I looked like...well, the good ol' Lone Wanderer again.
So now I had to complete the self matinence. I picked at the polymer on my hand, and it slowly peeled away. WHen I was done, all that was left was an inside-out hand, and the horrible monstrosity that was now my hand.
The way it's set up is few inches above my wrist is where they amputated. The main case, which connects to my brain and rest of my body, is on my forearm. The hand is detachable, for matinence, damage, or other purposes. The hand itself is the most complicated. A whole mess of metal and a few wires and hydralics. But it works the same as an organic hand. But I do get phantom pains sometimes. You never get used to the feeling.
I'm not saying that it's less useful. It's an improvement, really. The robotic appendage was almost impossible to break, had a grip that could snap a femur in two, but still agile and delicate enough to type on a computer or repair a gun.
But it was an improvement I didn't ask for. My real hand wasn't broken. It was fine. THey only did it because I was expendable. Just a cadaver for them to discard. But what else did they do? They have those mind control devices for the deathclaws...
No. Deathclaws are mindless beasts. They couldn't do that to me.
I finish gawking at my hand, and place the old "glove" off to the side. I twist off the hand, set it on the device I'd rigged up. I figured out the recipe they used to make the polymer a few years ago, and I still use it. Not for me. I've come to terms with it. Mostly. But It's a pretty well-kept secret. Not too many others know.
But the device I have is sort of a dipping machine. I set it on, flip it, and it sets the hand in for the time it takes for the polymer to solidify. Easy-peasy. But that leaves that uncomfortable moment where I'm forced to recognize that ugly metal stump on my arm.
I lean back as the timer ticks away. I cross my arms in an attempt not to look at it, but feeling it is even worse. I take it out from my underarm, and set my right arm on my lap. I stare down at it and sigh.
Everything I've done...I've sacrificed so much, my family, some friends, my health, and now literally a piece of me, and what to I get? I fake hand made by my enemies, one that could go Terminator on my John Connor in the middle of the night, torture at the hands of an extreme reformist, not to mention all the emotional scars I have due to the countless atrocities I've seen, and my girl getting stolen by some brown-haired prick.
Being the good guy's fucking sweet, lemme tell 'ya.
I sigh again, and Dogmeat props his head on my lap. I smile, pat him. Boy knows how to cheer me up. "Thanks boy." I say to him. Those two miscolored eyes shine at my approval. "At least someone appreciates the shit I do." He sits up and licks my hand. I let him.
"Oh no Al, I just love you cause you taste good. If you die, I'm totally gonna eat you!" I mock for him in a dopey, lower tone, trying to put his thoughts into words.
"Thank you for your loyalty and support." I say mocking back at myself. I chuckle at my own humor, and he put his head back down. Shuts his eyes. Is pretty late, I think. Chances are, Hollow will be here by morning time. Everyone needs sleep, right?
I stand up, suprising my dog. I apologize to him, and walk over to the more comfy chair on the other side of the balcony. I grab a scotch from my vending machine, because really, why I would I keep only Nuka-Cola's in there, and sit back down in the soft, pink chair.
I replaced the other one, damn thing was on its last legs. I slouched and took a long swig from the bottle, and Dogmeat took his place at my feet. And I felt...fine. For once in the last few days, I felt like everything was right with the world. LIke I could just take a break from adventuring, sit back and enjoy the spoils of my endeavors.
I smiled, and knew that that day could never come so long as Harkin still drew breath. Hell, given my track record, it may well never come. So I figure I gotta enjoy the moments that I do get like this.
I shifted a little more, raising my arms for a little extra warmth. I let that feeling slip me into a sleep.
O
Wasteland. Little past noon. Armored Jumpsuit on me. Hunting rifle on my back. Walking. A few shots. A scream. I'm running. I cross the hill, panting. See a group. Continue running.
Clarity.
I slide into a wall, nearby where I can set my rifle on a broken windowsill. Lean over to see the targets. Three raiders. One wastelander. Female. I see her on the ground, and it takes me a few seconds to realize what I've stumbled onto.
A rape. That special kind of evil.
See the largest of them behind her, a dirty fucker, driving her into the ground, probably skinning her knees, arms and face. I see the other man laughing, playing with her exposed breasts. I see the third, a woman, forcing the vicitim to keep her eyes open, to see what's happening to her.
Take the shot, I think. Take it. End her misery, and their lives.
But I didn't. I just sat there and watched, mesmerized. It's not like I hadn't seen this before. The Vault had porn. Not anything too wild, your basic "Pizza guy/Pool boy and the housewife" kind of thing. But I'd never seen or done the real deal. I was nineteen, so this was inconceivable to me.
And I just sat there until the first guy was finished, and then realized what I'd just seen wasn't a holotape. It was a real, live rape. A crime. And I'd just stood by with my finger up my ass and my hand on my dick.
I stood, and offed the biggest one with a clean head shot. He fell off to the side, and the second man looked up, horrified. I remember that face. Because it was only gore the next.
The woman managed to take a few steps before I shot her. But it wasn't a clean kill, just a leg shot. I ran over and popped a round into her with my 10mm.
I then, reluctantly, turned to the bigger problem. The victim. She stood up, slowly, afraid that I'd mimic the raiders. I held up my hands, and she seemed to calm down. I didn't have the will not to look. I saw a bit of blood running down her leg.
She took an uneasy step towards me, I took a large one back. SHe looked over left. I followed. A man, wearing a brahmin-skin outfit, but missing a head. I looked, and saw a ring, an honest-to-God ring on his finger. And a matching one one her finger.
They were married.
I tried to say something, but couldn't. I had no fucking clue on what to say. But she had an idea of what to do. She pointed at my 10mm. I pulled it out. I flipped it towards her. She stepped up. I let her take it.
I closed my eyes before the shot.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
O
I jumped up slightly in my chair scared. Dogmeat was also up, and heading towards the door, barking. I realized that someone must've just knocked, and my mind put it into the dream. Heh. More like a nightmare.
"Coming, coming!" I said, and clumsily made my way down. I unlocked the door, opened just so that Dogmeat couldn't get out, and checked who it was.
A clipboard filled my view. "Hollow's special delivery service" written on it. I smiled, opened it the fully way. Hollow stood before me, holding the hard drive. I let him in, took the valuable data from him, and saw him squat down to pet Dogmeat. A low rumbling came from him, and Dogmeat panted happily.
"It's been an exciting day for the ol' boy." I said. Hollow half-mindedly nodded. I smiled, and went up to plug the hard drive into my computer. I set the data to download, and returned to me guest.
"Amata's passed out. Long day for both of us." Hollow nodded in agreement. I checked the time. 3am. "Want me to fill you in?" Hollow shook his head, made a yawning motion to respond. Sleep now, talk later. "Agreed. I'll get you something to lay on."
I carried a bedroll underarmed to him. I caught him pulling on a shirt, having changed into something that he could sleep in. He had cargo pants and a tight t-shirt on. He looked up at me, rubbed the back of his head. I understood his plight. When you wear something long enough, it becomes hard to part with. I laid the bedroll down without a word, and he nodded his gratitude.
I figured that my hand was ready, and went to check. I pinched the polymer, and felt that it was solid but gave a little. Perfect. I reattached it and gave my fingers a flex, making a wave. I nodded, satisfied with the "Glove".
I went back to my pink chair. I took one last look at Hollow. Dogmeat and he were sort of sharing the bedroll. It was cute, seeing the huge fellow almost being evicted by the hound. But as I got comfortable in my bubble of wamrth, I shuddered at the nightmare that could await me, and I picked up the almost-full bottle. I downed the entire thing, three gulps. I almost went for another.
O
I woke up calmly this time. My slumber had been dreamless, thankfully, and I yawned, smacking my lips, getting some moisture in my mouth. I stretched like a dog, and stood, scratching an itch. That's when my ears told me someone was rummaging through my fridge. Without thinking, I began to sneak down. Pistol out, I rounded the corner, then recognized the petite female form.
Just Amata. I stood and holstered my gun. Then mentally smacked myself. Who else could it've been?
"Morning." I said. She seemed to jump a little, turned towards me, looking over her shoulder.
"Oh, hey! Was just kinda...looking to see if I could...I dunno...make breakfest or something?" I smiled.
"Geez, look who turned from a badass to a housewife in one night." She blushed a tad, then smiled sheepishly.
"I was looking to suprise you." She turned all the way, shrugging. "At least one of us was suprised."
"Yeah. But hey, it was a nice thought, but you're not gonna find anything too good in there. Not enough for the American Breakfest at least."
"I just hoped that the big, world walking, legendary Lone Wanderer would've found some frozen bacon or something." She ribbed me.
"Very funny." This was like old times. Before my dad up and left. We'd have some back and forth, but she'd always win. She let me win a few, but I always figured she had an ace in the hole. Still, it was endless fun. I reached past her pulled out three Punga fruits.
"Trust me, it's edible." I said in regards to her horrified expression.
"Are you sure...It's like...yellow?" I nodded. "If you say so. But you're taking the first bite." I chuckled, and handed her one. I was glad she was accepting it so well. Suprising, really. It took me longer to adjust. I guess because she has a guide. I was shooting in the dark.
We went to the table with out food. I bit into mine, juices running down onto the table. It had a semi-sweet flavor. I chewed and swallowed the pulpy thing and looked up at her expectantly. I caught her gawking, twisting the Punga like it was some alien artifact.
"Go on. It's not gonna bite." I smiled. She smiled back, still unsure. I quickly, silently added: "At least I hope not." She glared at me. I laughed a little, and in defiance, she took a chunk out of it. Juices spilled down the front of her jumpsuit, and she pulled away like it was a grenade. I tried to hide my glee as she tried to pat it off. I think she heard me trying to hide laughing as she gave me a death glare.
It was then I lost it, letting my head fall and my shoulder shake. "It's not funny!" She yelled.
"Yes it is!" I retorted. And then even she saw the humor, and laughed. After we calmed down, I shook my head and finished off my piece, and started on the other. She barely finished hers, slowly and carefully.
After we were done, I could tell she was thinking. "What is it?"
"Oh, nothing." I gave her a look, and she caved instantly. I learned how to read people in the Wasteland, but I learned how to read her when I was fifteen. "It's...yesterday, when you..."
I already knew. My massacre. "I'm...not happy that you saw that. It's...not like me." She nodded. I continued. "It's just...seeing that prick with Sarah...you saw the way they held each other? Do you know how long it took me to get her comfortable enough to even put my arm over her shoulder? Or just to hold hands for a while? Months. I put all that work into her, and now, just as I get her ready to cuddle, that bastard swoops in while I'm in the box and steals her.
"I mean, for fuck's sake...I get it, me supposedly dying was hard for her, but I at least hoped I'd get a year of mourning, maybe two...but six months? A real ego-booster, lemme tell 'ya."
She frowned for me. "Yeah, tell me about it." I cringed. I forgot for a moment that Amata and I used to be a thing as well. I really treated her like shit the last time she was out of the vault. But this time, I'm gonna make up for it.
"Sorry..."
"Oh, no, it's fine. Really." She said. A silence descended on us.
I broke it. "I'm gonna go check on a few things. Hollow, the data. You know?"
"Yeah, yeah. I'll be around here..." She looked for something to do, and picked a book from my shelf. I stepped up the stairs, and found Hollow helping himself to a water bottle. He nodded, and drank half of it.
"Hey. We uh...we need to check your..." I mentioned. He nodded, touched his neck. Turned and sat in the chair closest to him. I kneeled down, started probing his throat. Since the injury, he'd been mostly incapable of speech. He could say a few words, but not without a lot of pain.
But it could heal. Over time. And from what I felt, it was definetly healing. I took a moment to check on his face. He seemed zoned out, thinking or just uncomfortable with me touching him. I think it's the former. He had a slight five o'clock shadow on him. Other than that, he seemed fine.
His face was alot more block-shaped than mine. A harder chin line, slightly lower cheekbones. Gave him a harder look. I patted his shoulder as I stood. "Seems alright. Just needs more time to heal." He nodded, his face melancholy. That was the standard response after each check. I walked over to the terminal, logged on. The data had copied on.
I skimmed over the plans. Contingency Routine A-56. There was a standard list, then from then on it seemed to be Harkin's personal log. A lot of gloating on how he'd fooled Amata, and how he'd "Bested" the Lone Wanderer. Bullshit. But a few things stuck out. Apparently he hadn't followed protocol on step two. The genocidal one. Strange.
Possible value in Vault Dwellers. Engineering? No, Enclave bases are much more advanced, any grunt could run the Vault as well as Stanley or someone else could. Soldeirs? I did clear out their crawler, and that held an entire batallion. No. Step three and four is getting more Enclave to the base. The Dwellers would be a waste of space and recources in any other case. Then..what is it?
Oh fuck me. Human shields. He knows that the Brotherhood, the only ones capable of opposing the Enclave, are too good to shoot innocent civillians. And he made the mistake of not killing me. So he does consider me rejoining the game as a possibility. And I know I won't shoot any Vault Dweller. Not even Butch, or that bitch Suzie Mack.
Very smart. Cunning. If I was in his position, it's the same thing I'd have done. Also if I was a lunatic. But I can no longer consider him a grunt, or a pompous desk general. He's exploiting my weaknesses. I'm gonna have to change my own game if I want to win.
But how? Hmm...no time for that now. I have to get this info to the Brotherhood.
O
Something was wrong. Very, very wrong. The second Hollow, Amata, and I arrived at the Citadel, we were ushered in, not questions asked. I jogged ahead into the courtyard, looking for someone who could debrief me. No one would tell me anything. Just "Head to the infirmary."
Oh crap. Who is hurt? Please let it be Gary.
I ran towards B ring, and the crowd of Brothers parted for me. The two Paladins guarding the door let me through, and what I found shocked me.
Elder Lyons lying on the bed, a heartbeat moniter hooked to him, IV's, and an oxygen tank. Sarah at the side, Gary behind her. Lyons looked towards me, eyes sad and weak.
"What the hell happened?"
Sarah spoke. "Fawkes...he just came in at night. He's a friend, we let him in. And then he backhands my father and runs out screaming that he's sorry. I don't know what happened to him."
Fawkes? No, he'd never...
"Are you sure it was him?"
"Yes, I'm sure!" She snapped. I didn't blame her.
"Alright. It's...It has to be something. Maybe..." I was drawing a blank. I could deduce my enemy's plans in a second, but I couldn't predict my friends. Great.
Lyons wheezed. "Al...come...come here." I obeyed, knelt down to him. "It's it's not his fault. He has a good soul. I could feel it. Some...something must've happened. But...when you...find him...show him mercy. Tell him...that it's alright."
He took my hand, gently squeezed. I squeezed back. "Y-...Yes sir."
"Good boy." He said finally, then laid back down. It must've taken a lot of strength.
"Al..." Sarah spoke, after a moment. I looked at her, she at me. "Go...go look at the terminal. It has the diagnosis on there."
I stood, went over, activated it. Skimmed over. Multiple rib fractures, on true ribs down to the floating ribs. Sternum broken. Punctered lung. Internal hemorraging.
"What's your take?" She asked queitly. I took a moment to answer.
"He's...He's a tough old man. He'll pull through." Lies. I'm suprised he's alive now. I looked back at her, gave a reassuring smile. She smiled back.
"Yeah..." I took a breath and walked out. Someone told me he had headed south. This wasn't gonna end well. I already felt it. I told Amata and Hollow to wait.
I needed to do this alone.
A/N
I fucking bum rushed this. One nighter, from 11-3, and only one Monster Assault energy drink. I feel so badass. I'm already on the next chapter. I wanted to explore Al's psyche a little on this. Give some more depth to this story. I know it may be boring, this one, but trust me, the next will be absolutely awesome.