A/N: Huge thanks to ScorpioSkies for betaing! If you like, you can find me on tumblr as eluvisen!

It takes a day for Kaelyn to come to a decision, but when she does it's a simple matter to follow through. She can spare a day or two from the talk preparations for this. Nate accompanies her, of course, curious to properly meet this shadowy Railroad. Dogmeat is always up for another walk, and his keen senses give them forewarning of a nearby threat more than once.

At the Waterfront, buildings elbow their neighbors for room on the sidewalk. Broken windows are imprinted with jagged black stars, gaping at the street front. Atop the steeple of Old North Church, a golden bead of light serves as a beacon in the clear night.

Kaelyn has barely taken a step into the courtyard when Deacon materializes nearby. "Fancy seeing you here."

If she hadn't been raised politely, she might have bequeathed him with a rude hand gesture. "Don't act so surprised. The Institute's still a threat to the Railroad, so here I am."

"And you missed us. It's okay, I'm the only one here so you can admit it. I won't tell anyone. Promise."

"Deacon." She grabs his sleeve, but her grip is loose enough he can easily pull away if he wishes. "Are we good?"

He looks her over, then nods. "We're good."

Nate says, "Good, because the suspense is killing me."

"Sure you want to bring him in?" Deacon asks. "Dez is touchy about security."

That is a fact Kaelyn is all too aware of, recalling her own introduction to the Railroad. "She's just going to have to deal with it. Nate knows a lot already."

"Yee-ah, about that…" Deacon chuckles nervously. "Husband of my best friend, I would really appreciate it if you wouldn't mention anything about the Railroad to anybody."

"I can guarantee it," Kaelyn says. "Honey, if you compromise the Railroad or act against it, you're in the doghouse."

Nate holds up his hands. "Woah, woah, no need to resort to threats. My lips are sealed."

Kaelyn takes his hand and leads him into the church. She's half-surprised they're still here, frankly, when HQ has been compromised. Lack of options and lack of time, she supposes.

Inside, Nate pauses to take in the ruined church with its broken pews and collapsed ceiling and haunted air. Meanwhile, Deacon is already ducking around the collapsed beam that conceals the stairs to the undercroft. Kaelyn doesn't miss the way Nate glues himself to her side once they reach the labyrinthine crypt, and she holds his hand while carrying Deliverer in the other. In a stroke of fortune, no ferals have wandered in recently, so they can safely follow the green-gold glow of fungus and lanterns that serve as guides as much as the paint on the walls.

Nate whistles at the Freedom Trail disc rigged as an elaborate lock, and Kaelyn stretches on her toes to cover his eyes as Deacon enters the passcode. The floodlights inside are off, and remain so. Down the stairs, voices flutter like dust to soften the chilly air.

Nate makes a soft grunt of surprise as he takes in the undercroft. HQ is as bustling as ever, with agents coming and going between the tombs, and dust motes writhing in beams of waxy yellow light. New names have been written on the blackboard at the back of the room, but Kaelyn's heart clenches when she sees High Rise and Glory.

What she hadn't anticipated is how much this feels like coming home. No, it isn't Sanctuary, nor are these people the family she grew up with, but—all the same.

Desdemona glances up from her document mountain—Kaelyn fights a sympathetic wince, knowing the pain of so much paperwork—and for a moment her expression softens.

"Guess who's back, Dez?" Deacon crows, which causes everyone in the immediate vicinity to crane their heads to look. The sudden furor of shouts and greetings keep the attention on Kaelyn as everyone reacts to their prodigal heavy. Dogmeat wanders away to greet Boxer, who obliges him with a belly rub.

"Whisper!" Drummer Boy claps her shoulder and drags her further into the crypt, into the spotlight by Desdemona's workstation. "You didn't really quit, did you? Deacon lied again, didn't he?"

"Asking if Deacon lied is like asking if the sun rose in the east this morning," she replies, if only because she never wastes a chance to sass Deacon. "You guys been busy down here?"

Desdemona's gaze skips from Kaelyn to the strange man lurking behind her and becomes pointed, like a crow that's just spied a sparrow in her territory. "Who's this?"

"He's with me." No one uses their real name in the Railroad, so there's no need to introduce him properly.

Her face hardens. "Bringing strangers into headquarters violates all of our security protocols. We need to talk, Whisper. Now." Desdemona leads her away to PAM's abode, and holds out a hand when Nate shifts on his feet. "You stay here. Deacon, on him."

"Sure thing, boss." Deacon settles against one of the crypts and pats the spot beside him. Nate searches Kaelyn's face, and whatever he sees convinces him to sit down beside him.

PAM stands ready nearby, and the robot perks up when its red optic registers Kaelyn. "My algorithms predicted a seventy-six percent chance that Agent Whisper would return."

"Let me guess," she drawls, "people bet on whether I'd come back or not."

"People were curious, yes." Desdemona turns on her heel and any potential for any further teasing withers under the full force of her stormy gaze. "You know better than to lead a stranger into the church. Who is he and why is he here?"

Time to get the awkward explanation out of the way. "He's my husband."

Despite knowing the story of Vault 111, no shadow of surprise darkens Desdemona's face. "So Deacon wasn't lying after all. That still doesn't explain what he's doing here."

"After everything that's happened in the past few months, he doesn't like being separated from me. Or I him, frankly."

"Simply being your spouse doesn't grant him the right to be here. Many of our people have families. It's safer if they stay away."

"I couldn't keep it a secret from him, Dez. Not when I—had to explain what happened to Shaun."

At last the hard edges to her countenance fade away, and she sighs. Rifling through her vest pocket, she withdraws a cigarette and lights up. "I understand that must have been difficult for you both." A long pause. Then: "Is he trustworthy?"

"I had a child with him."

She nods, slowly, her gaze distant as she considers. "Would he risk his life to protect synths?"

"You'd have to ask him, but I'd wager the answer is yes."

"Do you think he would join the Railroad?"

"Again, you'd have to ask him." It'll soothe a number of concerns if he does, but that's not a decision she can make on his behalf.

Even if Desdemona is appeased—barely—that still leaves Carrington waiting in the wings. His scowl is like a lobster's claws clenched around a tiny fish. No matter Deacon's ongoing feud with Carrington, the cantankerous doctor holds the smallest of soft spots for Kaelyn, and she him. That does not, however, let her off the hook today.

"You are aware our security protocols do not exist for you to flout at your convenience!" Carrington snaps. "The vital work you've done for the Railroad does not put you above our rules, no matter what behavior Deacon encourages."

"I can hear you, you know!" Deacon yells from across the room.

"Then consider this equally applicable to you, since you didn't refuse them entrance as you should have!"

By the time Carrington is finished chastising Kaelyn, her ears ring as if she's been standing in the bell tower instead of the basement. She wanders back to Nate's side, slightly dazed, where he's talking with Dez.

"If Kaelyn's helping you, and I'm helping her, then I'm helping you by proxy. So sure, let's make this official."

"Good." Desdemona nods once. "Welcome to the Railroad. Before we move on to anything, you need a codename."

Nate glances sideways at Kaelyn. "So that's why they've been calling you Whisper." He hums, thoughtful. "Okay, let's see, what sounds cool… I've got it. Sentinel!"

Well, it isn't an inaccurate name, even if he seems a little too excited by this spy business. Once his name is written on the chalkboard, the induction is more or less complete.

While Desdemona gives Nate the run down, and Carrington stalks over to keep himself in the loop, Kaelyn wanders over to the blackboard to take a look at the updated agent list. Above Sentinel, Phoenix and Expat are both present, though the latter has an asterisk beside their name. There's also a Scrapper. Kaelyn makes a mental note to ask if Scrapper and Boxer have met. The jokes would write themselves.

Kaelyn briefly touches Glory, her fingertips leaving marks in the chalk.

Beside the blackboard, a new map of the Commonwealth has been pinned up. She can tell it's new because Deacon and Tinker Tom haven't swamped it in graffiti yet. Interestingly, there are a number of colored pins stuck at various locations. Kaelyn stares at them but can't detect a pattern. "What's this?"

Deacon says, "We've been tracking Institute sightings. Red for confirmed, green for rumored."

Kaelyn scans over the map. Sunshine Tidings Co-op is marked in red, as is the run-in they'd had with that rogue scientist group and the Minutemen squad. There are a dozen or so in total, some annotated with s for synth or h for human. "PAM, have you been able to make sense of this?"

The robot, who'd wandered out of its own accord, presumably to investigate the racket, fixes its optic sensor on the map. "Based in input data, there are two patterns of sightings. Eighty nine percent chance the first category are random encounters with lost humans. Seventy two chance that the remaining are seeking building materials. Fifty nine percent chance the resources are for a technological construction, but I cannot extrapolate what."

"Building materials?" Kaelyn looks at the map again, and runs her fingers along the roads winding between the pins. No pattern emerges to her eye, so she'll have to take PAM's word on it. Deacon places a red pin just above Kaelyn's finger.

"We also found confirmation that the Institute hired raiders to kidnap me. The gang was hired at West Everett."

"Raiders?" Drummer Boy's face scrunches. "Since when do they hire raiders to do their dirty work for them?"

Carrington presses his fingers to his chin while he thinks. "It isn't normal for the Institute to use intermediaries like this. We know they have surface contacts who pass on intelligence for caps, but abduction is never trusted to any but their own people."

"Guess they've run out of people," Nate jokes.

That's it.

Kaelyn stills. "First they sent two coursers after me, presumably to kill me. When they failed, it was probably a crippling blow. How many coursers can they have left? Not enough that they can afford to waste them. But raiders are expendable."

"Didn't you say the raiders were ordered to capture you alive?" Carrington frowns. At her assent, he asks, "Why send two coursers to assassinate only to then order raiders take you alive? What changed?"

Kaelyn leans heavily on the tomb-turned-desk. "Dammit. I don't know. None of this makes any sense."

"It does make sense; we simply lack the information required to understand their motivations. I daresay, however, that we are still at threat. As I've said before, we need to evacuate to somewhere more secure." Carrington gives Dez a pointed look at this last part.

She waves a hand. "We'll discuss that later. For now, we need to uncover where the remnants of the Institute are hiding. They've been kidnapping every synth they can get their hands on and killing our agents."

Kaelyn frowns. "Not to underestimate the power of indoctrination, but the Institute can't wipe the memories any rebellious synths. If they're taking synths who want their freedom, how can they keep them under control?"

Carrington's mouth pinches. "As you just said, their conditioning can be difficult to overcome. In any event, I wager we'll find out. We need to know who we're up against and where they're based."

Deacon coughs, his head tilting in Kaelyn's direction. She shoots him a look that promises vengeance if he opens his mouth.

Alas, Desdemona notices.

In the undercroft, the magnetizing force of her glare is all-encompassing. "It's true, isn't it? The Minutemen took in Institute survivors. What were you thinking, Whisper?"

Kaelyn lifts her chin. "You're the one who let a former Institute teenager into the fold. You gave Expat a second chance. I'm doing the same."

"Expat is isolated at their assignment. They're one person who has come to recognize the humanity of synths. And they still aren't assigned tasks that put them in contact with synths. That's not the same as inviting a group of scientists to cement their place in the Commonwealth."

Well, if Kaelyn's committed to this, she may as well go all the way. She did promise Shaun, after all.

She takes a step closer, lowers her voice. "When we fought that rebellion, we evacuated every person we could, whether they were synth or human. I didn't do that just to let them die up here. Besides, this keeps them where we can see them. Believe me, the Minutemen are watching."

"And we are, too." Desdemona's mouth thins into a hard line. "You're certain these people aren't involved in hitting our caravans? The movements against you personally?"

"They all denied it. If anyone from this group was behind it, best keep them where we can find them."

Desdemona is by no means assuaged, but accepts the exact location of the settlement as a consolation prize. Along with a warning that the Railroad must consult Kaelyn with any evidence against this particular group before acting against them.

With PAM and Carrington present, Desdemona then finds a pen and fresh paper. From the steely glint in her eye, it's clear every scrap of intel Kaelyn gathered during her absence will be wrung out of her.

Carrington beats Dez to the punch. "What can you tell us about the Institute's remaining leadership?"

"Madison Li, head of Advanced Systems, is in charge of her people at Starlight. Allie Filmore died not long before the rebellion and the vacancy was never filled. I don't know if Justin Ayo and Clayton Holdren survived."

Desdemona's flinty eyes narrow. "I'm not doubting you, but are you certain Fillmore is dead?"

The Institute had been absurd to believe Kaelyn could keep one noncombatant safe from a company of Brotherhood soldiers when she wore no armor.

Kaelyn's jaw clenches. "I can confirm it."

By the time they're finished interrogating Kaelyn and Nate, her stomach is audibly complaining.

The return of Whisper is reason enough for HQ to break out Drinking Buddy and gather all the chairs in the undercroft into a circle. Seeing that robot again is a hoot; Kaelyn and Deacon had found it in the basement during a rescue op and Deacon begged her to bring it back to HQ. Better than languishing away in a dusty basement, he'd said, even if PAM is indifferent to the company.

The Railroad's parties are as loud as their arguments and twice as friendly. With enough booze to make dinner appetizing, they sit in clumps on all available surfaces, dealing cards or trading gossip. Dez joins in even if Carrington hunches over his desk, the sound of his teeth grinding louder than the radio. Dogmeat earns one of the best seats in the undercroft—on the lone couch—surrounded by adoring fans.

Deacon is dared to take off his sunglasses, and he agrees with a too-wide smile as he turns his back on the room at large to trade his glasses for Kaelyn's. She's had enough to drink that she puts on his glasses without caring if she looks like an idiot.

Nate watches their antics, leaning against one of the pillars with a chilled beer dangling between two fingers. When Kaelyn checks on him, he says, "Reminds me of the squad. All the trouble we used to get up to."

It's too dark to make out the details of his face, but she knows what she'd see. Wistful longing and weary grief. Before she can respond, he continues, "You seem to fit in with these people."

"What was it Deacon said once? Just one big dysfunctional family. With guns."

"Guns that shoot railway spikes."

Underground, there's no reference for time beyond how long it takes for the lanterns to burn down, but Kaelyn decides it's better to quit while she's still ahead. While many of the others are still partying, she claims one of the least moldy mattresses in HQ, tugging Nate down beside her. Dogmeat soon curls up at their feet.

She rolls over to face him and touches his cheek. The shadow of grief still haunts his expression, but maybe she can offer a distraction. "So, what do you think?"

"The decor is, uh, unique. And your leader is a force of her own. Gotta admire her confidence that the tomb's residents don't want revenge for all the coffee rings staining their lids."

Kaelyn snickers despite herself. "I've seen a lot of things in the Commonwealth, but that would be a new one."

In the morning, a runner drops by their corner and Whisper is summoned to another meeting.

"We heard about what you did at the Compound. Thank you. Glory—" Desdemona draws in a thin breath through her nose. "Glory always said we needed to do something about it, but their pattern of abductions was too erratic to confirm an anti-synth agenda and we never had the resources to strike the place. Which is why I think you're our best option for this next job. We've already had agents smuggle out the research you recovered, but there's still one outstanding issue: Covenant itself."

Ah. They need their top heavy to do what she does best. Kaelyn's stomach turns. "What are you asking me to do, Dez?"

"We need to be sure they aren't a threat any longer. The choice is yours as to how you go about it, but we can't have a known anti-synth settlement breathing down our necks. Old Man Stockton has a proposal, if you want to negotiate. He's heard rumors that Covenant has lost business since Amelia's kidnapping—his doing, no doubt—and wants to buy out the local traders so they'll work for him."

This trip will be cutting a fine line when they have to return to the Castle ASAP. "All right. I'll see if I can talk them down."

Nate rolls his shoulders. "Don't think you're going alone, hon."

Dez nods. "Good. One more thing: take Expat with you. They could do with some mentoring. Deacon's too busy pranking newbies to be useful."

Not for the first time, Kaelyn wonder why she'd been the exception.

They leave immediately. Kaelyn is halfway to the hole in the wall when she remembers the Brotherhood collapsed the tunnel during their assault. Once they reach the surface, Nate shakes out his shoulders. "All this paranoia is getting to me."

Expat meets them at Mercer, as agreed, with Phoenix by their side. "Do you really think this is a good idea?" he asks.

"We'll find out," Expat answers. Their gaze lingers on Kaelyn.

They all say their goodbyes to Phoenix, Expat giving him a gentle shove. Dez had drawn the line at allowing any synths within a fifty foot radius of Covenant. While they wander down the road to the walled settlement, Kaelyn watches Expat out of the corner of her eye. Their inclusion here seems odd. Yes, they need mentoring, but Kaelyn suspects an ulterior motive.

"Let me do the talking," she says. Nate and Expat both agree, but neither are particularly enthused.

Since her last visit, Covenant has fallen on hard times. Swanson isn't even guarding the gates, and several turrets are broken. Marching up to the doors, Kaelyn calls, "Commonwealth Minutemen! Requesting permission to come inside. I passed your SAFE test last time I was here!"

A head head pops over the barbed wire to verify. After almost a minute, the gates creak outward. Expat sticks close to Kaelyn's side as they enter. So does Dogmeat, his ears pricked forward, detecting the sudden tension.

When Swanson recognizes Kaelyn, he holds out a hand and gestures for a nearby guard to run a message. "You folks just wait here for the mayor."

Without the Compound's subsidies, Penny has been forced to raise her prices, driving away the infant business they've been nurturing. The houses now have a run-down quality akin to the rest of the Wasteland. With fewer caps pouring in, they've had to prioritize basic necessities over upkeep of their picket fences.

Nate still whistles. "Almost pre-war in here. How'd they manage this?"

Expat looks around again, curious now. Covenant's citizens stare right back.

Mayor Jacobs steps out of his office and goes rigid when he sights Kaelyn. "Who let you in? More importantly, why are you back?"

Showtime. Since Covenant hasn't attacked yet, there's at least a chance to resolve this peacefully. "From the look of this place, you've fallen on hard times. Let me be blunt, Mayor: Old Man Stockton has an offer for Penny, and your settlement at large. No matter that awful kidnapping that took place outside your walls, Amelia was complimentary of Penny's skill as a merchant."

In the crowd, her green dress wrinkled and stained, Penny perks up at the flattery.

"Stockton?" someone squawks.

"Why should we listen to anything you have to say?" Jacobs asks.

"Because you've all known loved ones who were killed or kidnapped by the Institute. I've known that too." Beside her, Expat sucks in a breath, but Kaelyn refuses the urge to glance sideways at them. "Also because the well-being of your people is your utmost priority, I imagine."

"Well— of course I—"

"Good," she cuts him off, knowing she's publicly cornered him. "Covenant has physical security but lacks long-term trading partnerships. Stockton seeks to remedy that by offering Covenant a place as a subsidiary. I have the contract here."

Jacobs attempts a smile through gritted teeth. "I'm afraid we'll need an hour to read over the terms."

"Of course."

This time Kaelyn opts to wait outside the walls instead of the bunkhouse, keeping an eye out for any would-be kidnappers. She's surprised no one gets shot with tranquilizer darts. They return at the allotted time, and the township is still gathered in the mayor's front yard.

The man himself stands on the stairs to his front porch. "You said Amelia Stockton is still alive."

"That's right." Making a snap decision, Kaelyn drops any pretense. "No thanks to you. Do you know how they tortured people in the Compound, or do you just not care? Anything to stop the Institute, right?"

Gasps echo around them like pebbles down a well. Expat's jaw is clenched. So is Nate's, for a different reason.

Kaelyn barrels on with, "Covenant was intended to be a trap, luring in innocent people to torture for science. But there are innocent people in these walls, too, and this offer is frankly more than you deserve. I suggest you take it."

"Tell Stockton we… accept." Jacobs all but throws one copy of the contract, signed, at her. He recognizes it as a leash, even if Penny calls it a decent offer.

Once they're safely outside the walls, Expat exhales, long and relieved. "I thought you were going to hand me over to get them on your side."

Kaelyn freezes. "What?"

"That's what they want, right? Payback against the Institute?" Their face twists. " And what you and Dez want? To get rid of me?"

"Not Dez's style, or mine." Kaelyn frowns. It actually stings. But under the hurt that Expat thought the Railroad wants them gone, she recognizes she hasn't given them any reason to believe otherwise. Perhaps she can remedy that now. "You're an agent, and you aren't the first to have come from a less-than-ideal place. What matters is that you're doing something now."

If she couldn't condemn Deacon then, she can't condemn Expat now.

"Less-than-ideal? That's what we're calling it now?" they snap. "The Institute never tortured synths! All of my jobs with the Railroad involve working around surfacers who hate synths."

"People up here fear synths because of the Institute. Sure, some—like the Brotherhood—would take the newest opportunity to fear and hate something different. But most people are afraid because their loved ones were replaced by infiltrators, or kidnapped as test subjects, or simply killed because they got in the Institute's way. Collateral damage for the greater good."

"Easy there," Nate intervenes. "No one's enemies here. Let's all take it down a notch."

Kaelyn sighs, presses the heel of her palm to her forehead. She used to be better at containing herself. "Sorry. Expat, you're right that the Institute didn't torture their synths like the Compound did."

They continue on in silence. Expat stalks ahead,either eager to return to Mercer or eager to put distance between them and Kaelyn. But soon they start to flag, and then fall behind.

Nate calls their group to a halt and suggests a drink break. Perhaps it's because he's the one to say it, Expat doesn't argue. Finding a protected spot away from the road, they sit in the shade and turn their faces to the breeze that takes the edge off lingering late afternoon heat.

Nate slouches against Kaelyn's shoulder and toys with his pip-boy. On the other side of the clearing, Expat digs through their bag, becoming more visibly frustrated the longer it takes to find their water bottle. They drain half of it in a few quick swallows and swipe a hand across their face. Kaelyn's almost willing to believe it's to wipe away sweat until she hears a quiet sniffle.

Despite herself, Kaelyn asks, "What's wrong?"

"You—" they choke up. "You probably don't care, but the Institute was my home."

Kaelyn is silent for several long moments. "If there's anything I understand, it's losing your home and being tossed into a wasteland. Maybe the peace and prosperity was just a veneer… but it was home."

Nate's hand catches hers, entwining their fingers, and she wonders if he too feels a sudden tightness in his chest. He adds, "And when it all comes crashing down, that just makes it hurt more. Because there's no competition between then and now, but everything back then seems so much better in hindsight. Even if it was bad."

Expat says nothing more, so Kaelyn lets it lie. She doesn't realize her olive branch was accepted until they lower themselves to the ground nearby, some ten minutes later. Dogmeat plops down beside them and rests his head on their knee. They run their hands through his fur, and something softens in their face. "You were alive before the Great War," they say. "How different is it now?"

The question is sudden enough it arrows past her defenses. The old grief is a tangled mass sunk low in her chest. But such curiosity, discouraged in the Institute, isn't something Kaelyn wants to squash. "Barely resembles the old world. Before the bombs dropped, there were so many species of plants and animals. Only one head. No radiation. Most of them went extinct, and what's left is mostly mutated. Sometimes beyond recognition."

"All anyone ever said is that the surface is dead. I didn't have the clearance to see any surface studies." Expat draws their knees up to their chest. "I've seen rusted boxes—no, not boxes, but like boxes. On the roads, mostly. Deacon said they were cars and they were used for transport. Was he lying again?"

Of course the Railroad's newest agent is already acquainted with Deacon's dishonest tendencies. "Cars," she provides. "See the wheels? They were much faster and more comfortable than walking. It did not take most of a day to get from Sanctuary to Boston."

Expat perks up. "Do you think you could fix them? I worked in A-Systems, so I know tech. Walking sucks."

Of course someone who grew up in a place like the Institute wouldn't be accustomed to long-distance travel.

Nate chuckles. "You'd need parts, the mechanical know-how to assemble them—and fuel." A grim smile flickers across his face, chasing away amusement. "Don't think the pipeline works anymore."

Expat looks between them. "I'm… missing something here, aren't I?"

"In the years leading up to the Great War, there were the Resource Wars," he explains. "A global oil shortage led to all sorts of trouble. We had to defend an oil pipeline running down from Alaska. We needed oil to make fuel for cars."

Disappointed, Expat retreats into silence. At Nate's suggestion they wait for nightfall to move, and Expat watches the sunset through their fingers. The heat lingers well into the evening, lolling on the brown-gray ground like a lazy dog, and they wait for the last of the day's light to leach out of the sky.

Expat doesn't stop watching the world around them, staring up at the milky shroud of stars fading into existence. "No one ever told me about the stars. I don't think anyone even knew they existed."

Kaelyn blinks. "Really? Nobody? But the Institute 'acquired' talented scientists from the surface."

"Rarely," they agree. "Madison Li actually sought us out, but she wasn't the talkative type."

Kaelyn jolts so fast Nate makes a noise of complaint. "Madison Li was from the surface?"

The head of Advanced Systems has always been cantankerous—but, Kaelyn realizes as she looks back through her memories, she lacked the sense of superiority that hung around so many others like a shawl of the finest silk.

"Capital Wasteland, wherever that is. She ran from the Brotherhood of Steel."

Kaelyn grunts softly. "Can't blame her for that. Capital Wasteland are the ruins of DC, south of here. If Deacon is to be believed. He said it's Brotherhood-controlled territory. Apparently their headquarters are the ruins of the Pentagon."

Nate makes a strangled noise, but Expat just gives her a quizzical look.

When they return to Mercer, a silhouette stands on the front porch, backlit by the lantern in the window, far behind Bones, who's sitting at the guard post beside the road. He welcomes them back and, upon learning that Covenant is in hand, gives all three of them hearty smacks on the shoulder. Expat notices the shadow by the stairs and races to the porch to reassure Phoenix they're alive and well.

There are only five synths in residence now, which is still too many, but the establishment of June Safehouse, otherwise known as Coastal Cottage, has eased the load according to Phoenix.

After an obligatory gossip-trading session, Kaelyn retreats to the back porch with her whiskey to watch liquid moonlight ripple on the lake's surface.

A nearby door creaks, and Nate's hand rests on her back, a comfortable weight, his fingers drawing tiny circles against her shirt. "Something's bothering you."

Kaelyn's glad he's behind her shoulder, where she can't look him in the eye. "Just… we got Covenant to agree to the contract, but is it really a solution? Putting them in Stockton's pocket only works if he has the power to influence them—or come down on them if they start up again. And that talk with Expat…" she sighs. "I lost the moral high ground a long time ago. And I'm afraid that I'm not so different to what I'm fighting."

"Why, kidnapped many people, have you? Founded a torture dungeon somewhere?"

"No. I just—" Kaelyn presses the heel of her palm into an eye socket. "Killed a lot of people. There aren't many lines I wouldn't have crossed to find Shaun. And none of it paid off. I still don't know what that makes me."

He's quiet a long time, drawing circles on her back. Finally, he says, "Difference is, you were doing the right thing."

"How long until right and wrong no longer matter? If they're using the same justifications we do, how do we know we're right and they're wrong?"

Nate rests his hands on her shoulders. "You don't stop asking that question."