"What year were you born, Initiate?" Scribe Valdez asked, neither looking up from her terminal nor stopping the flitting of her fingers on the keys. Molly wouldn't have known she was being spoken to if not for the fact that she was the only Initiate around at the moment.
"2073," she replied, lowering her Pip-Boy, swinging her chair towards the scribe. It was late, and Fort Atlas was eerily still. Across the facility, someone tinkered quietly on a piece of machinery. Someone else snored faintly from behind a rusted door.
Valdez nodded, thoughtful. She stopped typing and turned to face Molly, leaning back on the table, crossing her arms over her chest.
"So you were young when the bombs dropped," she commented.
"Just turned 4 the day before," Molly said. "Kinda put a damper on my birthday weekend. Never made it to Wavy Willard's, and now the slides are all busted." They laughed together quietly, falling back into a comfortable silence. Sensing there was more Valdez wanted to ask, Molly folded up the map she'd been consulting as she planned her week and tucked it safely into her backpack.
"How much do you remember?" Valdez asked, taking this as a signal to delve deeper.
"I remember all of it," Molly said. "My folks kept me away from news about the war and all that, but they broke into my cartoons to report on the nukes. No ignoring that. I remember my ma screaming, and my pa picking me up and running to the car. The drive to the vault was crazy, cars crashing all around us… I'm surprised we made it."
"So your family was able to stay together," Valdez said, seeming relieved. Regretfully, Molly shook her head.
"Well… my folks were both in the medical field," she said. "Ma was a trauma surgeon, pa was a paramedic. I remember them hugging me and kissing me. Dropping me off at the vault… then turning around and leaving. I guess they figured whatever was going on was a whole lot bigger than them, or me. Bigger than us. They figured they could do more good outside than underground."
"That was... brave of them," Valdez chose her words carefully. "But I'm sure you must have been devastated to be left alone."
"Shit… I thought they were superheroes," Molly chuckled. "I told that to anyone who asked. But I spent a lot of time wondering why it was so easy for them to just… leave me."
"Do you think they joined the Responders?" Valdez asked. Their eyes met, trading grimaces, trading scenarios without a word.
"Never did find any trace of them," Molly said finally, tearing her eyes away and picking at a loose thread on her pants. "Suppose they could have left with everyone else. Or they could have gone the way of most Responders I've 'met.' Maybe… maybe I have run into them. I guess I thought they'd leave a note, or a sign, or something. The Overseer did more than they ever did to make sure I could find her once I finally crawled out of the hole."
"You and her were close?"
"Oh yeah, she found me that day hiding near the vault entrance, crying my eyes out," Molly said. "My folks dropped me off with nothing but the clothes on my back, a holotape explaining why I was alone… and my grandpa's old cowboy hat. She took me right in, never made me feel like I didn't belong. Have you met her? That old lady dragged her tail all around Appalachia before I even set foot outside."
"Haven't had the pleasure," Valdez said thoughtfully. "I've heard you playing your holotapes of her, though. She sounds… firm."
"She can be a real hard-ass," Molly chuckled. "But she was always soft with me. I guess she realized I was just a kid who barely knew a thing about the war that turned my life inside out. She was kind, fun, stern when she needed to be. But I rarely gave her reason. She was fair enough, so I didn't see much cause to rebel. Besides, I left my folks topside and she never got around to having the babies she wanted. We were grateful for each other."
"I see why you were so interested in finding her," Valdez nodded. Then, a smile spread across her face. "So, wait… your grandpa was a cowboy, huh? Is that where you get it from?" And Molly laughed out loud, then slapped a hand over her mouth remembering that almost everyone was asleep. Valdez, stifling her own laughter, shushed her.
"The man never sat on a horse a day in his life," Molly said, grinning uncontrollably. "But I'll be damned if he didn't think he was a cowboy anyway, chasing after cryptids in that rickety-ass old truck. I remember riding in the bed, wind in my hair, sun on my face, holding onto the truck for dear life with his hat on my head... ah, damn." She lowered her head, hoping the scribe wouldn't see the tears welling up in her eyes.
Valdez, unfortunately, was observant. But she didn't push, didn't fuss. Just reached over and placed a hand lightly on Molly's shoulder. Molly brushed her own hand across the scribe's fingers, nodded appreciatively.
"This place used to be so beautiful," Molly breathed. "All of it. Green everywhere you look. Sparkling water and cute, furry little critters all over the place. Parts of it ain't bad now, don't get me wrong, but god… it's nothing compared to what it used to be. Or maybe I'm just romanticizing my childhood."
"You were lucky to grow up that way," Valdez said lightly, and Molly tilted her head indecisively.
"Feels more like I grew up underground," she countered. "I spent more time down there than up here, and you know how hazy those early memories can be. Feels like I got a preview of what my life could be, then had it all taken away. Is that lucky?"
"I suppose none of us are really lucky," Valdez conceded. "No matter where we started, we're all in the wasteland now."
"Maybe luck is relative," Molly suggested. "I guess compared to people who didn't get to sit in a vault for 25 years, I'm lucky. And compared to any of those poor dead fools that came before us, we're pretty lucky too."
"And I feel very lucky to have met you," Scribe Valdez said softly, squeezing Molly's shoulder. "I never dreamed I'd find such a good friend in Appalachia, but… here we are."
"Here we are," Molly echoed, resting her hand on Valdez's. They sat in comfortable silence for a while, Valdez going back to her terminal, Molly returning to her map. She traced a route with her finger, mostly in the Ash Heap region, but The Forest seemed to be tugging her eyes to it.
"You ever been to The Forest, Scribe?" she finally asked. Valdez hummed thoughtfully.
"Where's that?" she asked.
"You'd know if you had," Molly replied. "From what I understand, there's not much like it left out there. It's almost the same as it was before the war. So much green. Healthy trees and underbrush, birds and normal sized bees, flowers..."
"Really?" Valdez breathed. She cast a glance over her shoulder. "I don't think we passed through, then. I definitely would have noticed if we had."
"Maybe… if you get some free time… we could take a trip out there?" she asked, realizing too late how her voice was shaking, heart in her throat. "I mean… maybe Brotherhood business will take me out there. And maybe, if you'd be interested in tagging along… I wouldn't mind. I mean-"
"You know there's a lot to be done here," Valdez said. But her cheeks were flushed, and she smiled mischievously. "...But I'm sure I could find a reason to head out that way. And of course I'd need my favorite Initiate to accompany me, for safety's sake."
"Of course," Molly agreed very, very seriously. "Safety first. Brotherhood first. Business first. Ad victoriam."
"Don't overdo it," Valdez laughed. "Knight Shin can smell bullshit from a mile away. So can Paladin Rahmani, yes, but take a guess which one would ask too many questions and try to convince us it's a one-woman endeavor."
"He's such a wet blanket," Molly groaned. "You know when I first wandered into Fort Atlas, I left for another 3 months because he was the first person I spoke to and I wanted nothing to do with him. I thought you all were a bunch of selfish assholes, sitting in here on piles of stolen supplies, refusing help to anyone who asked."
"Knight Shin doesn't seem to understand how important public relations can be," Valdez said with an eye roll. "You wouldn't believe how many other people judged the Brotherhood too early because of his 'warm welcome.'"
"Who do we talk to about getting a different doorman?" Molly said, spinning her chair around and around as she ranted. "How did the saltiest bastard in this place even end up at the front door? If we wouldn't have been off in that Enclave bunker, I promise the Mutants would have turned around and went right back out their tunnels when he was the one on the other side of the wall." Valdez laughed softly.
"I'm glad you gave us another chance, Initiate," she said, a sparkle in her eye. "I can't imagine where I'd be without you- hmm, where we'd be. The Brotherhood, I mean."
Something in the air changed. Something heavy, something intoxicating settled in the space between them, and Molly suddenly seemed to be far, far too warm. Her chest buzzed pleasantly as she averted her eyes, overwhelmed suddenly by the way Scribe Valdez was looking at her.
"I'm… I'm happy to be here," Molly stammered, and she thought she might unravel her pants if she didn't leave that poor loose thread alone. "I… guess I don't know where I'd be either. Company like this is rare out there."
They shared a lingering look. Hesitantly, Scribe Valdez turned back to her terminal one last time.
"Well… I guess I'd better get some sleep," she sighed as she started the process of shutting it down. "You heading to bed soon too?"
"Nah, I put off getting my shit in order too long and now there's too much shit," she replied. "If I don't do it now, I'll put it off forever."
"Well… goodnight, Initiate," Valdez said. As she passed Molly, she squeezed her shoulder one last time, lingering just a moment too long to be friendly. "I'll see you in the morning, I hope."
"I'll be around," Molly said with a wink. "Promise."
Seeming to be taken aback yet pleased, Scribe Valdez made her way across the atrium, chuckling to herself as she went. Molly, burning inside and out, turned her attention from the Ash Heap to The Forest, tracing all the prettiest locations with her finger. She was daydreaming, she realized sheepishly, glancing around as if worried someone would look into her mind and judge the sappy romance film her brain was playing for her.
Foolish, she scolded herself. Frivolous, wasteful, naive... But, somehow, beautiful.
Hope was so fragile since the war, so dangerous, so brave. Love could be fleeting, and happiness an impossibility. But to give up on them would be to abandon human nature, letting the wasteland siphon away everything that was good and pure, more than it already had. Suddenly, holding onto this silly, fluttery feeling in her chest was the boldest, hardest thing she'd ever had to do… but simultaneously became the most important.
The war had taken everything from her; her parents, her childhood, nature as it was, the future she'd been promised…
But it couldn't take this. She wouldn't let it.