NOTE: the first twenty or so chapters have been rewritten! If you're reading this for the first time, don't worry about it. But if you've read this already, please take the time to reread it! This goes for this chapter up to about chapter 20ish. More about the rewrites and hiatus will be at the end.
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Jack Schmidt stood before the door of Publick Occurrences on a chillingly cold November night.
His hands shook as he reached to knock on the door. He had nowhere else to be at the moment; Nick was back at the Red Rocket, resting after the fight with Eddie Winter. He had already gone to find his son, only to be disappointed, and Preston didn't have any work for him to do. All his companions were cozy in Sanctuary, so what else was there to do? He had some time on his hands, and he hadn't seen Diamond City's only reporter since before he went to the Memory Den in Goodneighbor.
The pre-war vault dweller felt bad- Jack had traveled all over Timbuctoo, doing so much in just the matter of a month with Nick and the other companions. And yet, he seemed to completely overlook the quirky, spontaneous and snarky Piper Wright. Jack was amazed by her ability to stand up for what she believed in. From what he had seen and gathered from their interview, the two seemed to share identical ideals.
He wanted to bring her along on his adventures and to rid the Commonwealth of its boogeyman- become her friend. Yet, there was one thing that kept him from doing so all this time: she reminded him so much of Nora.
Jack hesitated to knock on the door. When he finally brought himself to do so, he was greeted by two bright hazel-green eyes and a shining smile. "Blue!" Piper exclaimed. "Come on in."
He shot her a friendly smile in return as he stepped through the door. The home was mostly quiet, other than the usual creak of the walls and their voices. "How has the journalist life been working out for ya?" Jack asked, crossing his arms as Piper took a seat on the couch.
"Oh, you know, the same ole stuff," she began. "Death threats, complaints, the occasional angry citizen knocking at my door. Totally worth it."
"Death threats?" Jack asked, raising an eyebrow. "The folks here must really hate you, then."
"Yeah, they do, but they don't have the damn nerve to carry out anything they say they'll do. Lucky me," Piper explained. "Anyway, what's been goin' on with you? Did ya end up going to the Institute and findin' your son?"
Jack's eyes dropped to the floor at hearing her question. "Yeah…. Yeah, I-I did."
"What happened?"
Damn her and her nosiness. "Nick and I went straight to the Glowing Sea and then built the transporter back at Sanctuary," he began, fiddling with a string on his glove. "The Institute… it's clean. Nothing like it is here in the Commonwealth, but nothing like my old home."
"What do ya mean?" the reporter asked, leaning into the back of the couch.
"White walls, white floors…. White everything," Jack tried to explain. "Everything you'd assume would be in the stereotypical futuristic comic book, if that makes any sense."
Piper nodded as he continued. "Turns out, I'm sixty years late. Sixty years ago, Kellogg killed my wife, Nora. Sixty years ago, my boy was taken. Shaun's the damn leader of the Institute."
"I…. I'm sorry, Blue, I didn't know," Piper told him, giving him her condolences. "You haven't gotten a break yet, have you?"
"No," he admitted. "I've been working my ass off since the day I left the damn vault." I haven't slept in a week.
Jack noticed her look down momentarily. As Piper looked back up at him, he looked away from her. Uncomfortable and unnecessary silence filled the room like water in a pool, nearly drowning both of them. "Do you… want to crash here for the night?" she asked, finally breaking the silence.
"No I-I can go to the Dugout Inn, it ain't a big deal," Jack turned down her offer. Like I'm going to sleep anyways.
"Come on, Blue. You look like you're about to pass out," Piper attempted to persuade him. "I don't need my pre-war friend fallin' and getting' hurt." Friend.
"Piper-"
"I won't take 'no' for an answer. Sleep here tonight- it's a shorter distance than to the Dugout Inn. Plus, it's free."
"Fine," Jack said with a sigh.
"I'll take the couch for tonight. My bed's upstairs, go ahead and crash there," Piper told him with a smile.
"You sure? It's your house… I can take the couch," Jack said. It was Piper's home, after all. She had every right to put him on the couch, yet she insisted he sleep in her bed. She's too nice to this old soldier for both of our own good.
"Hundred percent. I'll be fine on the couch for a night, go take my bed," she insisted.
Jack nodded in response, carrying his stuff upstairs and laying it down next to the bed. The scent of newspapers and ink reached his nose. He took in the scent that he seemed to enjoy so much as he eyed the second floor. It was small: a bed, desk and terminal occupied the room. To his right was a door, which he assumed led to the roof of the Publick. As he let himself lay down on a bed for the first time in a week, he felt the ache in his muscles and the pain on the side of his head.
He grabbed his bag and rummaged through it, pulling out one of the many holotapes he had. On it read the name of Nora's favorite pre-war song. It wasn't like the usual music they always heard, but she enjoyed it. Jack thanked whatever god was watching over him that the holotapes with all their favorite songs had been saved after the bombs dropped. He slid the tape into his Pip-Boy and turned the volume down before resting his head on the pillow. The song played just loud enough for him to hear it.
It started out with simple elevator-like music, and into French words that he could understand.
Elle etait plus que parfaite mais je l'aimais a l'imparfait. Nous parlions du futur avec nos prenoms composes.
The words flowed through the speaker of his Pip-Boy. Hearing the foreign words brought Jack back to his high-school days momentarily, where he took a class to learn the language.
J'ai compose un temps pour que l'on se refugiasse, mais j'suis pas tres literaire sans une batterie et une basse.
French words evolved into English words. I call for your help, like a 911. You pick up the phone, and you say 'hang on.' Then you throw the phone, in the air, and you run.
You are like pure speed meta, amphetamine. Your goddess turns water into, gasoline. You're a mona lisa or a venus, in furs. A superhero knight, in shiny metal spurs. You're the best girl, the best girl.
Before he could get through the entire song, Jack drifted off into a very much needed sleep.
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Jack awoke with a start to the sound of beeping. His teeth chattered as he violently shivered. As his vision cleared up, he found himself behind a window. Ice seemed to thaw away from the window, giving him a view of Nora across from him in her decontamination pod. He watched as a woman in a hazmat suit approached his wife's pod, followed by a bald man. The woman pointed at the pod. Her words were muffled by the thick layer of steel between him and the rest of the vault. "This is the one."
He watched on, helpless, as the bald man murdered the love of his wife and took his child. "At least we still have the backup."
Jack sat up the moment he woke up. Just… just a nightmare. He shivered, despite still wearing his riot coat and his flannel underneath it. His breathing was faster than normal. He took deep breaths, trying to alleviate the panic attack before it got worse. Looking down at his Pip-Boy, he pulled out the holotape and checked the time. 3:56 am. It was the most sleep he had gotten in a while, even if it was only a few hours of sleep.
He felt his mind wander to the nightmare. You couldn't save Nora. And now, you lost Shaun, too. Heh. Pathetic. How many times had he had that same exact nightmare? Too many to count. Shaking his head, he emerged from the comfort of the bed and stepped down the stairs, trying to avoid the stairs' inevitable creak to no avail. Jack's eyes wandered to Piper sleeping on the couch. Her hat was discarded on the floor next to a comic book. Nat, her little sister, seemed to also be asleep, for the entire home was as quiet as the dead of night.
The reporter didn't even put in the effort to exchange her work clothes for more comfortable clothes. Just like Nora always was, Jack found himself thinking. The memories of many late nights flashed back to his mind, where Nora would spend most of the night working on one thing or another. Eventually, she would come to bed, too tired to discard her day clothes. The thought brought a smile to Jack's face. He missed her so much, goddammit.
He glanced at Piper once more. And now, he has something to remind him that she's actually gone. Jack picked up Piper's hat and placed it on the arm of the chair before heading back up the stairs. Something felt odd inside him, yet he just couldn't pinpoint it.
Disregarding the odd feeling, he assumed it was due to his horrible sleep deprivation and return to his slumber.
As of February 17, 2017, Purple is on a hiatus. I am rewriting chapters one through twenty-one simply for the reason to make it more enjoyable for you, the reader. This is my first big fanfic, and so when I started, I had amateur skills. Now, my writing has improved tenfold and I wish to rewrite it both for myself and for you guys.
My motivation for rewriting is slowly dwindling, as is my motivation for this entire fanfic itself. I would very much appreciate that you leave a comment, as that's a huge confidence booster and overall makes me want to write more. I will keep writing as long as I am enjoying it and so are you- that's what keeps me going. I am open to constructive criticism (the first time this happened, I made a friend!) as long as it will help me in the long run. Hell, I'll accept keyboard smashes. Just let me know, I thrive off of your thoughts.
To new readers, I recommend only reading the ones I have rewritten and to wait for the others to be rewritten, or read it over on AO3. All rewritten chapters have actual names now, and once I am done with rewrites, I will give all chapters names (and this message will disappear.) Thank you for being so supportive of this fic.