The loud hum of the Prydwen's engines seemed to take on a life of its own every time Nadia tried to sleep in her assigned bunk. No matter how tired she was, its loud rumbles turned into the roars and growls of shadowed creatures that chased her through her dreams. She would come to, snapping her eyes open, frozen, terrified of alerting the creature that stalked her. But there was no stalking monster, at least not in the literal sense. One night, after what felt like another near triumph by the mysterious dream-beast, she was struck by the overwhelming realization that she wasn't being stalked. You didn't need to catch what had already been swallowed and here she was, deep inside the steel stomach of the beast known as the Brotherhood of Steel. Gooseflesh erupted on her chest, spreading quickly to her arms and legs.

Panicky and short of breath, she tried to imagine Hancock there beside her, holding her close and pressing kisses into her forehead. If anyone could protect her, it was her devilish ghoul. He always seemed so calm and relaxed, but looks were deceiving and he could spring into action in seconds, slitting the throat of a Raider or throwing his knife into a scurrying Radroach. It was difficult to even imagine him inside the Prydwen, though, and she didn't need saving. She could protect herself now and she had a job to do.

That didn't mean she didn't miss him. His absence was constant pain. Sometimes it was a dull ache and others it was like a knife straight through hear heart, leaving her stunned and gasping. She would see something red out of the corner of her eye and wrench her head in its direction, only to find it wasn't Hancock's frock. The all too familiar feeling of crushing disappointment racking through her at the realization.

She wasn't sure what was worse, the dreams she had on the Prydwen or the ones she had sleeping rough with Danse out in the Commonwealth. Sleeping in her bedroll, the one she had shared with John so many times, without him was a special kind of torture. The fabric still held the scent of him. She would dream of all the times she had fallen asleep with her head in his lap as he kept watch while smoking a cigarette, the occasional sound of him breathing in a hit of jet lulling her to sleep as he gently stroked her hair. Even worse were the dreams of times when they had slid into the bedroll together while staying at the old Red Rocket just outside of Sanctuary. She would wake up some mornings with the scent of soap still lingering from the recesses of her mind, skin still warm from the combination of fire light and the hands of her absent lover.

Hancock had been sulking around Goodneighbor for almost two weeks, making a complete nuisance of himself and driving Fahrenheit completely crazy. It wasn't that she didn't like Nadia or think that Hancock should forget about her, exactly the opposite in fact, she just thought that he should get on with his business. Nadia had never let him down before, so why would she start now? There was shit to be done and huffing Jet while crying over his girl wasn't accomplishing anything. He was the fucking Mayor, for Christ's sake!

Hancock was stretched out on his favorite sofa in the State House, his usual haunt these days, when Fahrenheit threw the doors open so forcefully that they crashed off the walls. Hancock dropped the inhaler in his hand, shocked into a sitting position by the noise. When he saw who was causing the racket he sighed and lounged back casually. He opened his mouth to tell Fahrenheit to knock her shit off as he reached for the dropped inhaler, but she knocked the drug out of his hand and the words he was going to say were forgotten in the shock. Bodyguards don't usually hit their bosses. Granted, most bodyguards aren't Fahrenheit.

"If it was Nadia that had walked in here just now instead of me, what do you think she would say?"

"Hey handsome, let's fuck."

"Cute Hancock. Real fucking cute. We both know that girl of yours is out there getting shit done while you're lying around crying into your Sugar Bombs. Why don't you get off your ass and at least try to be the man she deserves."

"Since when do you talk to your mayor like that?!" Hancock pushed himself off the sofa, teetering a little before managing to pull himself up straight.

"I'll treat you like the mayor when you start acting like it."

Something in her voice made him stop and look at her. She wasn't mad, he realized. She was worried. Hancock's anger deflated and with it the will to stand. He plopped heavily down on to the sofa, bald head bent over his knees, his hands rubbing over it.

"Fuck. Okay, yeah… ya got me there." He reached out and grabbed his tricorn off the coffee table, shoving it onto his head. What would Nadia say if he couldn't even handle running his own town anymore? Here she was taking huge risks with her life in order to save her son, not to mention the entire Commonwealth, and he could even tend to the needs of his little slice of it? I'm a god damn embarrassment. "What needs my immediate attention?"

Fahrenheit handed him a can of water with a wry smile. He shook his head, swiping the can from her outstretched hand.

"You look like shit, Boss. Get yourself squared away and then we'll talk business." She hesitated before dropping down beside him on the sofa. When she spoke again her voice was much softer than her usual bark. "Everyone knows she's coming back. The way she looks at you… Well, let's just say it's obvious that you don't have anything to worry about. None of those tight asses up on the Prydwen even compare, I guarantee it."

"How do you know? At least every one of them has all of their skin…" He whispered, sounding more forlorn than Fahrenheit had ever heard him. Part of her was pleased by how upset he was, if only because it meant this thing between them was real. In all the time she had been with Hancock he had never once gotten romantically attached to a broad. Not once. Not that there hadn't been plenty of woman. They just never stayed for more than a night, maybe two. It was nice to see him make a real connection, because if anyone deserved a little happiness it was him. He acted like a hard ass, because this was the Commonwealth and you had to be to protect you and yours, but he was as good as they came.

"Because I know you, Boss. Plus, I don't think skin makes up for the lack of brains in most of those assholes."

"You might be on to something there, Fahr." He laughed and threw an arm over her shoulder, pulling her into a sideways hug.

"Ugh. Get off me!" She said loudly, feigning disgust.

Hancock just smiled and held on to her for a few more moments, not saying anything about the arm that had found its way around his waist or the head laid gently on his shoulder.

Nadia had been out in the field with Paladin Danse for what seemed like forever. It had probably only been a month, but that seemed like an eternity without John by her side. She wasn't necessarily fond of the Paladin, but she did at least have a grudging respect for his capabilities. He was a decisive leader, bold, but not willing to take unnecessary risks. The thing that surprised her the most was his willingness to help others in need. He seemed to have the same inability to say no to a Wastelander in need that she did, unbelievably enough. Their Brotherhood assigned missions took double or triple the amount of time because they were always stopping to help people in the area that needed it. This led to it taking her longer than anticipated to take her leave of the Brotherhood and head back to Goodneighbor. She and Danse had gotten embroiled in some serious family drama that took a hard left that neither of them had anticipated. After they helped the family sort things out she broached the Paladin about taking some time to check in with her own command.

"By 'check in with the Minutemen', do you actually mean 'screw my ghoul lover'?" Danse's bushy eyebrows were drawn together, lips pursed in mocking question. Nadia had almost convinced herself that his snarky comment on her first day aboard the Prydwen was nothing more than a fluke, but here it was again. Why did he have to be such a good guy in so many ways, but so completely terrible in others?

"I actually plan on doing both, not that it's any concern of yours." Nadia raised her chin defiantly, meeting his eyes dead on.

"If Maxson found out—"

"Go ahead, golden boy. Tell Daddy on me. I'd love to bring you down with me." She spoke slowly, almost seductively, lingering over the word "love" as a gleeful smile spread across her face at his shocked expression. "We both know that as far as the Brotherhood is concerned, our fates are intertwined. So tell him. This is nothing but a test run for me, but for you… it's your whole damn life. Strike the match. I fucking dare you. There's nothing I like more than watching shit go up in flames."

The look on the Paladin's face was pure gold. She wished she had a working camera, because it was priceless. Hancock would have killed to see it. John…

Nadia and Danse parted ways the next morning. He had lost what little leverage he thought he had and was more than happy to let her go so he could regroup. He agreed to give their report to Maxson alone, letting the Elder know that she would be heading to the Castle and then taking a tour of her settlements. He reminded her to check in regularly to which she flippantly agreed as she boarded the waiting vertibird. She was eager to put as much distance between herself and Paladin Danse as possible. She told the pilot where to go and they were off.

Nadia, true to her word, headed to the Castle first to check in with Preston. The vertibird dropped her off outside the fortified walls and she hurried inside, overjoyed to be back among friends. The Minuteman she was looking for was easy to spot with his dark skin and wide-brimmed hat. He smiled hugely at the sight of her, obviously relieved. He had apparently been worried that the Brotherhood would managed to indoctrinate her during her brief time with them.

"Preston, you worry too damn much. I wanted to see what the Brotherhood might have to offer us in terms of a partnership, but between you and me, nothing they have is worth it. We will not be working with them in the future if I have anything to say about it."

"General, you have no idea how good that is to hear. Can I interest you in a tour? We have made some significant changes in your absence. Oh, and before I forget, there's a settlement that needs your help."

Nadia managed to keep the groan on her lips purely mental, but it was a near thing. No place like home, right?

Nadia only planned to stay one night at the Minutemen headquarters before setting out for Goodneighbor. She wanted to stop and scoop up Hancock before heading on up to County Crossing where yet another settler had been kidnapped. She wished she could just pay the damn ransom, it would be so much easier, but she didn't trust the Raiders to honor their word. Plus, it seemed like a bad precedent to set. She didn't want her settlers being kidnapped every time a Raider couldn't afford their Psycho habit.

Deacon had been lurking around the Castle, hoping to catch a word or two about his favorite partner's whereabouts. He knew she had infiltrated the Brotherhood, something Dez was over the moon about, but he had a feeling that the first place she would show up without her "Brother" would be the Castle. So he hadn't been totally surprised when she showed up one day, grilling Preston on the state of things. He wasn't sure why, but he didn't approach her. Maybe he just liked the idea of pulling one over on her, but for whatever reason, he stuck to the shadows.

Even though he didn't talk to Whisper, just her vicinity made him feel better. Up until her he had preferred to work alone. It was always so difficult to get a new person accustomed to his way of doing things (change your clothes every five minutes and lie indiscriminately from behind your shades), that it had never been worth the trouble. Whisper was different though. She had just fallen in with him, never batting an eye at his constant costume changes and she added a level of credibility to his lies that he had never dreamed of having.

He hated to admit to himself that he had missed her as much as he had. He was a loner, the spy with the changing face. He wasn't supposed to be besties with the Commonwealth Sweetheart, the most well-known Vaultie to join the rest of the poor schmucks up on the irradiated surface since the Lone Wanderer. He was supposed to stay in the shadows, unnoticed, which was difficult to do when you traveled with a star that shined as bright as Whisper. She didn't exactly leave a lot of shadow left to lurk in. He felt weak for wanting to run to her and wrap her up in his arms so he forced himself to keep his distance, squinting to see her from across the Castle as she exited her power armor. She didn't look any worse for wear, at least. No missing limbs, no gaping wounds in need of immediate medical attention and still in possession of all that magnificent auburn streaked hair.

Deacon shadowed her all night as she checked in with every single Castle inhabitant before eating a quick dinner and disappearing into her room for the night. He picked a spot in the hallway, tucked into a shadowy corner, and closed his eyes for a brief rest. He knew she wouldn't be going anywhere until morning and although he could have found comfier accommodations, he wanted to be near her. He always slept more soundly when he was in close proximity to her and tonight was no different. He didn't sleep for a long time, but the sleep he got was deep and restful, curled up and snoring softly in the hall outside of his partner's door.

Nadia was pleased with the progress of the Castle and their other settlements. There were definitely things that needed looking in to, but nothing too dire. Of course Preston had made it sound like every little issue that had come up was the end of the world, but he was an alarmist and she took what he said with several grains of salt. When she finally closed the door to her room, she leaned against it, looking up to the ceiling. She had wanted to head straight from the Prydwen to Goodneighbor without stopping for anything, but she had so many damn responsibilities. It was strange when she thought about it, because in her old life she had been responsible for Shaun and Nate. That was it and honestly it had been overwhelming. She had felt run down and exhausted, incapable of doing anything right. Now she was a General, in charge of commanding the growing numbers of Minutemen in order to take down the Institute. It was surreal.

The insecure, guilt-ridden mom in her wondered it this wasn't some kind of karmic retribution. Maybe she had never deserved them and that was why she no longer had them. She knew she hadn't been the best wife or the best mom. She had tried so hard, but at the end of the day she had always seemed to come up a dollar short. Dinner was burnt. Shaun had sat in his diaper too long and had another rash. She hadn't gotten a shower or even changed her clothes by the time Nate got home, for the second day in a row. She had been drowning before Nate had come home with Codsworth. She should have been grateful for the help, but honestly, it had felt like a smack in the face. It was like confirmation of all her worst fears and insecurities. She knew deep down that Nate hadn't meant it that way, but that hadn't made it sting any less. She was desperate to get Shaun back, but also terrified. She had already failed him once. What if she did it again?

Nadia sank down on to the edge of her bed and pulled off her boots, dropping them with a hollow thud. She didn't even bother to take off her clothes or wash her face. She wasn't going to be in bed that long anyway. Just a few hours to stave off utter exhaustion and then she had to get to Hancock. She wasn't sure if she deserved him, or the things she was pretty sure he was going to say to her, but she didn't care. She had to have him. She had to tell him how much she loved him, how she ached for him every minute of every day. That he made this time without Shaun bearable and she didn't care what secrets he had or if he ever told her. She wanted him, scars and all.

She fell into a dreamless sleep, which honestly was a relief after her time with the Brotherhood. She woke before dawn, swinging her legs over the side of the bed as she stifled a yawn. She shoved her feet into her boots and stood up, stretching her arms up over her head and then bending over to touch her toes. She was still exhausted, but not willing to wait another moment, so she did a few jumping jacks to get the blood flowing before grabbing her pack and heading out.

She hadn't brushed her hair or teeth, hadn't washed her face or even changed her clothes, but she knew none of that mattered to Hancock. She would deal with all of that once she had finally laid eyes on him again. The Castle was quiet, only the guards were awake at this hour, and they did nothing more than nod or salute in her direction as she walked out through the fort's one remaining entrance. She readjusted her bag on her shoulders and then headed out, face set in determination.

Deacon awoke as soon as Whisper's door creaked open. He waited in the shadows as she made her hasty exit and then followed at a discreet distance. The sun hadn't risen yet and all the Commonwealth's usual suspects must have still been in their respective holes, because not a single soul was stirring. They were getting close to their destination when everything went suddenly black.

Deacon wasn't sure how long he had been out, but man did his fucking head hurt. And what was wrong with his leg? Where was he? Last thing he remembered he was—WHISPER! His eyes flew open just in time to see some schmuck in a suit throwing her limp body over his shoulder. Deacon tried to stand, but his leg was next to worthless. There was no way he was going to be able to keep up. Instead he focused on committing every detail of the man to memory. He was going to need something to tell Hancock, because if he showed up on the mayor's doorstep with this kind of news and nothing helpful, he might just end up like Finn. Damn it, Whisper! We'll find you. Just hold on.