The first time Adriana's tracker went off, Deacon nearly cried in relief. The transmitter he always kept in his back pocket beeped and he dropped the pile of scrap he was carrying, forgetting in an instant that he was supposed to be delivering it to Sturges over at the new generator the handyman was constructing.

"Hancock!" Deacon started running back in the direction he had come from, yelling the ghoul's name.

It didn't take long for him to appear, popping up between houses from where he had been at work in the garden. Hancock came to a halt in front of Deacon, eyes wide with hope under his hat. Before Deacon could respond, the transmitter beeped again and Hancock, sweaty, shirtless, and smeared with dirt, wrapped the spy in an exuberant hug.

"She's alive," the mayor whispered under his breath, like he couldn't believe it.

"Yeah, but by the space between beeps, I'd say she's pretty far away. Who knows how long she'll be out of the Institute. We better get a move on."

Hancock disappeared into the house, presumably to get dressed and grab his shotgun, while Deacon took a moment to revel in this small victory.

It's working. Holy fucking hell, my plan is actually working. It wasn't like he hadn't spearheaded several successful plans in the past, but this one was so hastily thrown together and had too many variables. There were just so many things that could go wrong.

Deacon turned, planning to find Talitha and say goodbye, when she appeared in the doorway. She had a 10mm holstered on her thigh, aviators perched on the bridge of her nose, and a messenger bag slung across her body. Deacon smiled.

"All ready to go, I see."

"I even packed an extra pair of sunglass just for you," she said patting her bag with a smile.

"You're so good to me," he responded, reaching a hand out for hers.

"And don't you forget it."

How could I? He used his free hand to pat his pockets, verifying the presence of extra ammo for the gun tucked into the waistband of his jeans and that his smokes and lighter were in their customary home.

"Let's get this freak show on the road, shall we?"

Hancock appeared in the doorway after Talitha had stepped down, looking between the two of them. He nodded, motioning Deacon to take the lead.

"Now remember, Hancock, we may or may not find her the first time out. Who knows how far away she is," Deacon cautioned.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You've said all this shit before. I get it."

Then how come I get the feeling that you still aren't hearing me?

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Hancock didn't give a shit what Deacon said, he was getting Adriana back and he was doing it today. Nothing's gonna stop me.

So they headed out of Sanctuary, the sound of their footsteps accompanied only by the slow beep of the tracker under the brightly shining sun. They passed Concord in short order, continuing on quickly. Hancock wasn't sure if the beeping was actually increasing by infinitesimal bits, or if he was just imagining it. She could be anywhere.

The realization began to sink in, his heart pounding while he tried to push the doubt away. To make matters worse, there was a sudden rumble of thunder as ominous clouds rolled in at an alarming rate.

"God damn it!" Hancock threw his arms up in the air, wishing he had something to hit instead.

"Come on, there's an old cabin just off the road a ways. If we hurry we'll make it before the storm arrives." Deacon was holding Talitha's hand, pulling her forward, but he stopped when he realized Hancock wasn't following.

"Hey, pal. I know you're on pretty good terms with radiation, but Talitha and I are no more than nodding acquaintances with it and would like to keep it that way. Let's move."

"Give me the tracker, Deacon." Hancock's voice was pitched low, almost threateningly so.

"Look, I want to find her, too, and we will! Just not today," Deacon moved in closer to him, glancing up at the quickly approaching storm clouds, and placed a hand on the mayor's arm.

"That's easy for you to say," he growled. "Now give me the fucking tracker!" Hancock knocked the other man's hand away, turning on him angrily.

"You think this is easy for me?" Deacon's arms fell to his sides, his mouth, for once, searching for words he couldn't find.

"It's a helluva lot easier for you than for me!"

Deacon laughed, the bitter sound of it rattling around in Hancock's head.

"How do you figure?" Hancock opened his mouth to reply but Deacon cut him off, "and don't you dare say, 'because we're in love.'"

"Why the fuck not? It's true!" Hancock sneered, looking up from under his hat with a hateful glint in his dark eyes. "What? Still jealous she chose a ghoul over you? Is that it?"

Deacon threw his arms up in the air in exasperation.

"Would you listen to yourself? This is lunacy. Did you get a bad batch of Jet? Or did all that junk finally rot what's left of your brain?"

Hancock stopped in this tracks. He knew he was being crazy, but he couldn't seem to calm down. You need to get your shit together. This sure as fuck's not helping Adriana.

"You can't just waltz into an area full of synths alone to rescue someone who doesn't even remember you! Your charm and swagger, what little you have left that is, aren't going to save you from getting a laser pistol to the face. Hell, Nora herself might be the one to pull the trigger. I'd really like to avoid the whole tragic romance, Romeo and Juliet thing, if ya don't mind. Your voice is the key, remember?" Deacon paused, knowing that he finally had Hancock thinking, before driving his point home. "If you die before you can say the right words, Adriana dies with you. You really want her blood on your hands?"

By this point, the wind was so loud that Deacon had to yell the last of it, but maybe that only drove the point home harder.

"If the two of you are finished arguing, I think we should start running," Talitha interjected, looking worriedly from them to the sky. I can't be responsible for anything else happening to her, Hancock though in disgust. With a nod, Deacon turned on his heel and took off, clasping hands with Talitha while he used his other to point out the general direction of the aforementioned cabin.

Hancock followed behind them at an amble. He'd agreed not to run off after Adriana alone, but that didn't mean he had to hide in the cabin with them. Hell, maybe a little radiation will perk me up.

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I don't care if this is a pity mission, it sure is good to be boots on the ground again. She, X6, and a handful of Gen 2's had been tasked with a fairly straight forward job; clear the Wilson Atomatoys Factory of any hostiles, check for usable salvage, and then report back. If the location hadn't been completely picked over already, Shaun would then send up more Gen 2's to strip the location of anything valuable.

Nora had been briefed on the state of the surface and the creatures she was most likely to encounter. She thought she had been prepared, but her first glimpse of the surface in over two hundred years almost brought her to her knees. It really happened. There was something about living underground that had left her feeling detached from the reality of the bombs. I guess seeing really is believing.

Nora tried to keep a neutral expression, but must have failed.

"Everything alright, Ma'am?" X6 asked, head tilted slightly.

"Perfectly. Let's get to work."

Raising her laser rifle to her shoulder, she started forward, jerking her head in indication that the synths should follow. Just focus on the job. It was about then that she caught her first glimpse of a Super Mutant. The pictures hadn't done them justice. They're even uglier in person. Maybe Shaun's right…

Dropping to a crouch, she signaled the Gen 2's to circle around the building while she and X6 went at them head on. After so long without anything to do, she was itching for a fight.

"I know you're out there!"

Nora stiffened at the sound, pausing to watch. She clearly saw the moment that the abomination's eyes landed on her.

"There you are!" The beast growled, shouting to his friends and running in her direction. She waited until he was in range and then pulled the trigger of her rifle three times, in quick succession.

"Ouch," it cried, holding a hand to it's oversized forehead. "I'll make you pay!"

Nora kept shooting, the massive thing finally falling over dead with a ground shaking thud mere yards from her location. She looked up to see several of his buddies thundering out of the building's door and reached for grenade. She pulled the pin with her teeth, sending it flying towards her enemies in a graceful arc. She smiled as the grenade exploded, several of the mutants screaming in pain. It's nice to be back.

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Arlen Glass watched from afar, hidden behind a tree, as the Super Mutants poured out of the building to fight back the intruders. He smiled as they began to fall, unable to believe that he was finally on the receiving end of some good fortune. He had finally gotten up the nerve to travel all this way in search of the parts he needed, only to find the factory swarming with Mutants. He had been intending to just turn around, maybe find someone crazy enough to risk their hide for a bag of caps, but then there had been a flash of blue light. He had crouched down to avoid detection, only to see a handful of synths appear out of nowhere.

Now all he had to do was wait and see who won. Hopefully once the victor cleared out, he could run in and grab what he needed, no fighting necessary. He settled in for the wait, but by the look of things, the Mutants wouldn't last much longer. And good riddance, he thought smugly.

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Talitha and Deacon made it to the cabin mere moments before the storm erupted all around them. No sooner had the door slammed shut behind them, Deacon leaning against it and panting theatrically, then the storm broke with a crack of thunder loud enough to shake the whole cabin.

"Talk about cutting it close," Deacon mumbled, looking over at her through his glasses.

Talitha had gotten decent at picking up what few clues Deacon's body betrayed him with and right now his shoulders were just the slightest bit tense. It was hard to tell, he still managed to hold his arms loosely, the few steps he took toward her seemingly casual. Deacon liked to think he never lied to her, but in actuality, he did all the time. For every time she picked up on a cue that something was amiss, she knew there were ten more times that she didn't. It wasn't his fault though; she didn't blame him. His secrets were his life, his ability to keep them his best weapon.

If she had to guess the reason behind his worry, she would have to say it was Hancock's accusation regarding Adriana. The two of them had never spoken about what had, or hadn't, happened between the two. In all honesty, she didn't really feel like it was any of her business unless he wanted to talk to her about it. How Deacon feels about Adriana doesn't really make a difference in how he feels about me, so it's not like it's any of my business. Deacon would talk to her about it if and when he was ready. The only problem with not talking, was that Deacon had no idea that she didn't subscribe to normal views on love and relationships. He had no way of knowing that she wouldn't be mad or jealous if he had feelings for someone else.

Not knowing what to do, she ignored the little signs of his worry, letting one more lie slip past unacknowledged.

"Do you think Hancock's going to be okay?" She asked instead, reaching out for him with both hands. He smiled, stepping into her embrace and wrapping one arm around her waist while his other hand cradled the back of her head, tucking it under his chin.

"He's going to have to be," Deacon answered, holding her even more tightly. "He has to get it together if we have any hope of getting Adriana back."

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Deacon had, luckily, already cleared this particular cabin of its previous feral inhabitant and no others had cropped up in his place, so they were able to wait out the storm in relative peace. Well, what peace could be found while the storm rattled the very foundation of the cabin and Hancock was outside, pacing and and screaming into the storm like a man possessed. The two of them tried their best to ignore it, with varying degrees of success. He got it, the whole situation was maddening. I've just never been a scream-into-the-eye-of-the-storm kind of guy. I'm more of a tiptoe-straight-past-it kind of guy. He looked over at Talitha using his peripherals, I'm also an ostrich kind of guy, he thought with a sigh. I really have to quit putting my head in the sand and just talk to her. She heard what Hancock said and we both know it.

He really didn't want to admit what a cad he was though. He was embarrassed. He had kissed another guy's girl and the chain of events he had started led to Talitha getting beat with a baseball bat. If he started that conversation, that was its inevitable conclusion. He sighed. He wasn't sure which was worse, the truth or what Talitha must be thinking without any explanation.

"We don't have to talk about it yet," Talitha's voice interrupted his confused thoughts. "You know that, right?"

"I just don't want you to think less of me."

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Talitha didn't know what to make of that. She stepped forward, plucking his glasses from his face and then hanging them from the collar of his shirt.

"Everyone makes mistakes, D."

"Well, I've made some real doozies in my day," he answered with a self deprecating smirk.

Talitha stepped in close, raising up onto the balls of her feet in order to place a kiss on the tip of his nose.

"Tell me when you're ready. I can wait."

What was it about guys, in her experience at least, that they just had to do the opposite of whatever you said? Apparently Deacon was no exception. He began where most stories do, at the beginning, only this particular story started way before she had ever expected.

"I had gotten a report of strange activity around Vault 111…"

Talitha listened, mouth sealed, as Deacon told her, well, everything.

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The Super Mutants, while terrifying and strong, were clearly lacking in the intelligence department. Sure, run at me from across the room waving a nail bat. This is a gun fight, you idiot. Nora looked down at one of the lifeless bodies littering the floor of the old toy factory in disgust. Death is the kindest gift I could give you.

She and X6 swept the place quickly, all the Gen 2's they had brought with them having died at the hands of the mutants.

"I think it's safe to say there is plenty of useful salvage here. Why don't you head back and inform Father of what's here so he can send the team in to collect it all. I'll stay here and keep watch."

"Are you sure that's wise, Ma'am?"

"I think I'm more than capable," she responded icily.

"Undeniably. I shall return shortly."

X6 disappeared, leaving her truly alone for the first time since she had awoken in the sterile confines of the Institute. She hadn't been particularly fond of the atmosphere there, but she was starting to see the allure as she looked around the surface. This place is disgusting. She wrinkled her nose, backing away from what looked to be a bag full of miscellaneous body parts. Human body parts.

It was then that she heard soft, hesitant footfalls coming from the direction of the door. She stepped back into the shadows, laser rifle at the ready, and watched as someone crept into the room, looking around cautiously.

No, not someone. Something. Whatever it was, it appeared to have at one time been human. This must be a Ghoul. She had been warned about them, how they were feral things, minds rotted by all the radiation up here on the surface. Looking at it made her hand itch to reach into her pocket for another dose of Rad-X. Every inch of it that she could see was covered in scars and there was nothing remaining of its nose but a hole. She shuddered. She wasn't sure which was worse, the Super Mutants or the Ghouls.

She stepped forward, firing once, watching as the laser singed the fabric of its shirt. The creature stared down at it's arm in shock before holding both arms in the air.

"Please! I'm just here looking for some spare parts!"

It can talk?! No one had told her that some of them spoke. She fired again.

"I don't want to hurt you. I'm just looking for some old Giddyup Buttercup parts," the thing pleaded.

"What could you possibly need those for?" Nora stepped forward into a shaft of light streaming in through a broken window.

"It's for a project I've left unfinished for far too long," it responded, lowering its hands.

Nora wasn't about to be fooled into lowering her weapon. She had been told how fast these things could move, that they ate human flesh. She didn't care if it could talk, she was not about to fail Shaun. Not again anyway.

She squeezed the trigger until it finally quit moving.

After she was sure it was dead, she crept over and dug through his pockets. She found an old ID card for an Arlen Glass in his pocket. Arlen had been an employee at Atomatoys, apparently. Is this Arlen? Had he been telling the truth?

She stood up, throwing the card back down onto the Ghoul's body. He was a monster. You did the right thing. She shoved down the part of her that thought otherwise, locking away her doubts. I did what Shaun would have wanted. How could that be wrong?