When he got back to Sanctuary, Mason put the power armor in the station to repair it later. They had moved all the workstations into his driveway, with the exception of the cooking station, where they had set it in front of the place. After making sure Dogmeat was comfortable on his couch, he took the bag to the workshop and dropped the junk off there, leaving it for others to scrap when they needed it. Taking the armor and weapons he had collected back to his house, he started to go through them and was slightly disappointed but saw use in some of the pieces. While it wouldn't provide protection against bullets well, it would help better than nothing. Leaving some forearm and leg pieces on the bed for him to fix later, he collected the rest and took it to Shaun's old room. While they had scrapped most of the crib, they still had the mobile on the dresser they had put in there for clothes. They had turned the old room into a storage area for things they collected, though he knew they'd have to make another building for it soon. After finishing with the armor he put away, he went back to his room and took his armor off, grabbing the leather pieces and taking it to the armor workstation. After putting the man's jacket from the front of the museum on, he walked out front to talk to Codsworth.
"Hey Codsworth," Mason said as he walked up to him. He grinned, glad to see him.
"Mister Black," Codsworth said, greeting the man happily as he stepped up. "Welcome back sir! I do hope you were able to find some assistance in Concord."
"I guess you could say I made a few friends," Mason remarked.
"Can't have enough of those these days. I realize that I'm no Mr. Gutsy, but if needed, I'd be honored to accompany you throughout the Commonwealth. Just say the word!"
"Of course. I don't mind you coming along," Mason said, glad to have another companion traveling with him.
"As you wish sir," Codsworth said, happy to be traveling with them.
"We'll have some people settling in soon, so we'll need to make more mattresses. You up for the challenge?"
"Of course sir."
As Codsworth went to grab the cloth, Mason grabbed the wood and steel they'd need, and when everything was together, they got to work. It took them a few hours, and soon they had made the five mattresses they'd need for the others. They put the mattresses in the house across the street from Mason's. After that, they got to work on a doghouse for Dogmeat when they were in Sanctuary and began working on a second one as well if they found another dog. Looking down the street, he saw the group coming up, and he waved to them as they came up.
"So, you're big without the armor," Sturges laughed as they came by. "Though I guess I shouldn't be surprised."
"It's not that surprising. I have to eat a lot to maintain this size," Mason remarked as he finished nailing the last shingle on the doghouse. "It ain't easy, but I assume you'd know that."
Before Sturges could say anything, Garvey came up to them.
"Hey, it's good to see you again. I was hoping you'd show up," Garvey greeted him brightly. "I should've listened to Mama Murphy all along. Pretty nice place you've got set up here. Do you think we can settle down here, make it a place to call home?"
"Of course. I'd have to be a jack cul to kick you out of this place when there's more than enough room for the lot of yah. It's just odd for me to be back. It was nice living here before the war," Mason said, remembering visiting the city at least once a year growing up for baseball games.
"What do you mean? Before what war? Are you saying…"
Taking a deep breath, Mason sighed before he answered the man. "I lived here… over two hundred years ago. I was… frozen or something for most of it. Just woke up a little while ago."
"Damn, like one of those old pre-war ghouls," Garvey remarked, eyes fixed on Mason. "You say you were frozen… Anybody else make it out with you?"
"Just my son," Mason said, his voice monotonous." Somebody took him while I was still trapped. Have you crossed someone with a baby boy?"
"Damn, I'm sorry. But… no, I haven't run across any kidnapped babies. I'll definitely keep an eye out for him," Garvey said, clearly having good intentions. "Anyway… I am glad you're here. And I hope you don't mind, but I've got another favor to ask."
After giving him a questioning look, Mason remarked, "Go ahead, what's the situation?"
"I've had word of a settlement asking for help. They're still hoping Minutemen are out there, somewhere," Garvey informed him, making Mason sigh. While he understood people needed help, it was still a pain in the rear that people resorted to raiding. "The only chance to start rebuilding the Minutemen is to show people they can count on us when they need it. Trouble is, I've got my hands full here. Do you think you could go help out the settlement?"
"I'd be glad to. And have a bit of fun kicking and shooting whatever l'enfer gets in my way," Mason remarked, earning a confused look from Garvey. "Apologies for the confusion. Switch to another language for profanity so children don't necessarily understand what I say."
"That's… interesting. And fantastic. The Minutemen could use more people like you. By the way, if you want to help out around here at all, talk to Sturges. I'm sure he'd be glad for all the help he can get," Garvey grinned, clearly happy I was helping.
Shaking Garvey's hand, Mason headed back to the house with the workbench and found Sturges trying to repair the walls.
"Hey Buff Man," Mason called out, garnering the attention of the others as well. "Garvey said you needed help with some stuff. I know it ain't the beds. My butler and I took care of those already."
"And I thank you for that. Giving people a place to sleep will improve everyone's spirits. Now we need a reliable source of clean water. That way we don't get sick from drinking water."
"I figured that'd be a problem," Mason said, leaving confusion etched across the man's face, a woman scowling at him. "Give me a few hours and I'll go draw up some plans for a simple water pump."
"Good deal," Sturges said, and Mason walked back to his house and grabbed some paper out of a drawer in the kitchen. No point saving it for anything like kitchen utensils he wouldn't use. Only way they'd be filled with those again is if he remarried and settled down, and he didn't see that happening for a while. Not for a couple years, at the least.
"Hey Codsworth," Mason said, sitting at the counter. "Mind putting your condensers into overdrive for a few days while I help these people get this place settled."
"May I ask why, sir?"
"Of course. The settlers here need water to last a while, and there aren't any water filters here, and boiling water won't completely clean the water, so I want them to have clean water until they can fix the pump."
"Always thinking of others. The missus always said you were more concerned for others before you thought of yourself."
"I guess someone has to worry for others," Mason remarked as he got to work. "Otherwise this world would go to hell." After sitting for a minute, Mason sighed, hanging his head. "I know Shaun's out there. But I also can't stand by when others need help."
Getting settled down, he began making plans in a way that anyone with common sense could understand, though he did wonder if that was in short supply.
Waking up the next day, he grabbed the plans he had to work on until midnight and walked out of his place. Looking around, he bent down to pet Dogmeat as he came up beside Mason.
Walking around the place, he found some melons and gourds behind the house the new settlers were sleeping in. Leaving the gourds at the workshop, he held one of the melons under one of his arms and walked over to the cooking pot. Flipping the pot onto its top, he set the melon on it and grabbed a kitchen knife. Working quickly, he cut the melon in half before cutting each piece into eight pieces. Picking through the slices for seeds, he put the chunks of melon into a bowl, leaving them for Dogmeat to eat. When he finished, it was nearing ten, and he had collected roughly thirty seeds. Taking the seeds to the back of the house, he dug some spots in the ground about an inch deep before planting the seeds.
While he was going through the stuff in the workbench, he found a pair of gloves he'd have to give someone who would be working on plants. Then, standing, he took a deep breath before releasing it as Sturges came out, who looked surprised to see him awake.
"Been up for a while," Sturges questioned as he went to grab a hammer.
"Been up for a few hours," Mason remarked. "Planted some seeds in the back. If anyone wants to work on tending to them, have them wear these gloves. Plants don't like touch, so they'll need to wear them. Gotta keep a few for spring though. They might not grow well due to the coo weather."
"I don't think they can think about that," Sturges said. "They're plants."
"And? It doesn't matter. Bunch of science stuff I didn't pay attention to, but basically it's like if a raider attacks this place. Most energy will go into defending the place vs building it."
"Fair enough," Sturges said as Mason handed the plans he had left on the workbench to him. "I feel better already then, knowing we'll soon have a reliable source of clean water. With those seeds planted, this place is starting to feel like home. Now that we can grow our own food, I think we can really make a go of this. Trouble is, the more we establish ourselves here, the more of a target we become. What we need is to get some defenses set up. Then maybe Preston will be able to relax a little bit."
"One of my friends taught me some tricks," Mason reminisced. "Just give me about an hour. With that I'll be able to draw up plans for both walls and guard towers."
Walking back into his house, he grabbed more paper and sat down again. The first thing he did was the plans for walls, which were pretty simple. The guard towers were slightly more complicated but manageable.
"Here," Mason said as he handed the plans to Sturges to put away somewhere. "I'm going to work on getting the scrap needed for walls."
"I suppose I'll get started on the water then," Sturges remarked, grabbing the plans for the pump. "Should have it done by the end of the day."
"Doubt it," Mason mumbled under his breath. "No doubt he's a good worker, but it'll take more than twenty four hours for even a simple pump." Grabbing a pair of gloves, he walked over to the caved-in house in front of the bunks and studied it for a minute, figuring out the best way to scrap it for parts. Checking the time, he realized it was noon and got to work. Starting with the big stuff, he was careful not to grab it by the corners and sharp edges, knowing it could lead to an infection if he cut himself.
"Do you need help with that," Sturges asked Mason as he lifted a thick piece of metal off the ground. "I can get Jun to work on digging the ground for spots for the pipes."
Lifting with a grunt, Mason turned to Sturges. "It's fine. In fact, most of the stuff here is pretty light." Looking around, Mason realized there were only three to four big pieces left, which would leave the hard part: taking care of the small stuff.
"Suppose that makes two of us. Mind if I get Jun to help? Need to help him take his mind off something."
"Go ahead. More people working on the pipes the better."
As he set the last piece of metal down, he realized there were parts of furniture that had survived the cave in and realized it would be better to fix them later than to scrap them now. So, positioning the frame into a comfortable position, he lifted it, spreading his hands out to support the weight. It was a bit annoying with the front frame digging into his back, but he carried it over to one of the non-caved-in houses that would be better used for storing things like furniture.
After moving the last of the furniture to the house, Mason took off the gloves and put them away. Walking over to the workbench, he found a few bottles of purified water, probably from Codsworth. Grabbing one, he used the water to wash the sweat off his hands and face. He'd have to figure out how to get plumbing to any showers or baths they'd planned in the future, but he'd worry about that later. Grabbing a melon and some of the gourds, Mason grabbed two bottles of water to help with and brought them over to the cooking station. Taking about half an hour, throwing in some pieces of roach meat, he prepared something that, while probably didn't taste good, was edible. After filling a bowl and container, he was about to head back to his house when the others started coming up.
"It probably don't taste good, but it's edible," Mason told Sturges as he walked past him. "Should last a few days."
As he neared his door, he set the bowl on the ground by the doghouse, and Dogmeat came over and looked at him, curious.
"It's all we got right now." When Dogmeat started panting, Mason sighed and patted his head. "Good boy."
Sitting at the table, Mason let out a sigh. He wondered the next time it'd be filled again, considering he was the only one who'd be using it for a while. But then again, he didn't have time to worry about that right now.
So far, he had taken care of one cave-in house, and there were four left. At this rate, it'd take him two more days to do, though he could set up a few turrets for the place before heading out. Once he finished eating, he grabbed the container and took it to the workbench. Then, after making sure everyone was settled down for the night, he went and laid down on the couch.
Mason spent about every minute either moving the scrap and furniture or making a few turrets for the settlement for the next four days. Codsworth fixed a few fridges while he worked, using some of the scraps to repair them. Mason knew some people would come, having set up a generator and beacon for people if they wanted a place to settle down. After setting the turrets up and powering them up, he walked over and found Sturges to let him know the news.
"I feel better at night knowing we have some defenses set up. It's been a long road, but... yeah. I think this is it. Home. Feels good."
"I was glad to help. I didn't want you people living in a crap hole," Mason told Sturges, looking at his Pip-Boy to figure out what to do next.
"Well, I appreciate it. Of course, you know my door is always open to you. I better get back to it. You take care now." After that, Mason went into his house and grabbed some supplies. Looking at the mark on his Pip-Boy, Mason noticed he had what was probably a two to three-day walk, even if he did go in a straight line. After grabbing some cooked roach wrapped in foil and nine bottles of water, he packed a bag with a sleeping bag strapped to the bottom. After putting his armor on, he put the bag on, grabbed his helmet, and went to grab Codsworth and Dogmeat.
"Ready bud," Mason asked Dogmeat as he closed the door of the house behind him, Dogmeat sitting on the sidewalk. After barking, Dogmeat jumped onto Mason, making him lean back, so he didn't fall over. "Settle down, boy," Mason laughed as he both pet and pushed him down. As they walked down the street, Mason found Codsworth by the house at the end of the road, and after letting him know it was time to head out, they left Sanctuary.
Deciding to follow the roads, they walked through Concord. The place was quieter than he was used to, though Mason supposed it wasn't surprising, considering a gunfight hadn't even taken place a week beforehand. As they were leaving the area, Mason noticed a camp with six people in it, and after looking at their armor, he could tell they couldn't be trusted. Pulling out his pistol, he made sure the magazine was loaded; he crouched down and turned to Codworth.
"Cods, go for the two in the back," Mason commanded. "I'll go for the four nearest to us."
"Of course sir!" Codsworth said. After giving Codsworth the signal to move forward, Mason sprinted ahead.
"As I was saying- What the fuck is that?!" one of the raiders yelled, seeing a giant in red armor running towards them.
"What are you-" one of them began to say before a bullet found its way into his head.
"Shit!" one of them yelled, aiming his weapon at the person. "Kill the bastard!"
Lifting his rifle, the raider fired, unable to land a shot due to the surprising speed of the man. As the man neared him, the raider pulled the trigger and thought he hit the man before one of the raiders was dragged in front of him, the bullets going into their back. Backing away, he tried firing before realizing his weapon was empty and went to reload before being grabbed by the throat. He began gasping for air before yelling as bullets hit his back. When he was dropped, it took all his energy to try to bear with the pain, and he couldn't do anything as the man closed the distance between him and one of his friends and watched as he spun around his friend before shooting her in the side of her head. The man looked around like he was scouring the field, and the raider hoped he didn't notice him. As the man walked around, he swore he could hear a Mister Handy, but he could've been hallucinating. Everything went quiet for a minute, and he let a sigh before feeling something cold press to the side of his head. The man in the helmet couldn't see anything behind the glass, but he decided to put one last insult in.
"Bas...tard," the raider grunted, taking deep breaths.
"Le monde n'a pas de place pour les lâches," the man said, his voice deep and ringing, though he didn't understand the man.
After closing the eyes of the man, Mason took off his helmet, taking deep breaths. One of them had managed to graze his arm, and another had hit the helmet, which, while softened the blow, still hurt his neck from the sharp turn. Sitting down at the campfire, Mason took his armor off and grabbed gauze and wrap from the bag, having found some in some of the caved-in houses in Sanctuary while he had been clearing the place. He took his jacket off and cleaned the wound with some alcohol and water, then dressed it in gauze and wrap. After making sure it was snug to the point it wouldn't come loose, he put the jacket back on and looked at the pile of weapons and armor Codworth had piled in front of him. Although looking through it, there were some pipe weapons and a 10mm; he put the guns away and looked at the armor, noticing a flannel shirt in the pile.
"Thanks for grabbing this, Cods," Mason said as he folded the flannel. "I'll make sure to put it on later if it fits."
"No problem, sir. You always did love flannels."
"That I do," Mason remarked as he looked through the armor, noting how a majority of it was useful for scrap. Then, after putting the guns and armor into a duffel bag, he went to set it by his bag before Codsworth picked it up.
"I will carry it so you aren't slowed down, sir," Codsworth said, which made Mason smile.
"Thanks, Cods," Mason said. "You don't need to do that though."
"It's no problem. You're looking at the pride and joy of General Atomics."
"Ok then. Mind waking me up if anyone hostile comes near?"
"Of course sir," Codsworth said, and Mason laid out the sleeping bag before laying down for the night.
As they were walking the next morning, they passed by Thicket Excavations, though something told Mason he'd need to wait to go there.
"Sir, what were you doing with the paper this morning?" Codsworth questioned as they walked up the hill leading to the settlement Garvey told them about.
"Writing down what's happened in the past week," Mason remarked. "I ain't got the best memory, and if someone asks how I got to where I am, I need a way to recollect it."
As they approached the place, Mason looked down at the Pip-Boy to see the place was called Tenpines Bluff. Looking around, he could tell it wasn't the best place for a settlement, but not the worst either. Could use some improvement. Probably be turned into a small farming settlement. As he approached the shack, he took off his helmet and held it.
"What do you want? We don't need any more trouble around here."
The door of the place opened to reveal a woman, notably shorter than he was. Behind her, a man was lying on a mattress, a pistol lying nearby. Both of them didn't seem much older than he was from the way the woman carried herself, but she looked beyond her years.
"I'm with the Minutemen. I'm here to help," Mason said a slight grin on his face. The woman visibly relaxed a bit, though she kept her hand on her weapon. He supposed he couldn't blame her, not with the way the world was.
"You're with the Minutemen? I didn't think you fellas still existed. We sent words with one of the passing traders, but honestly, I never expected anything to come of it. Most people don't put much stock in the Minutemen these days, after Quincy. Bad business, that."
"Did you need my help with something?"
"Oh, yeah, I'm damn glad you're here. There's a raider gang that's been giving us trouble for weeks. Stealing food and supplies, threatening to kill us all if we don't pony up."
"If it's just raiders, it won't be much of a problem. Can you show me where they are," Mason asked as he held out his arm with the Pip-Boy. When she pointed out where it was, Mason chuckled. "Corvega Assembly Plant. Should take three to four days."
"Thanks. If you folks are for real this time, it'll be a welcome change for the better."
As Mason turned to head out, he understood two things. One: the raiders were about to die. And two: There was likely to be a lot of scrap at the Plant.
Climbing down the mountain carefully to not break an ankle, Mason looked around for a road before finding one near a dead molerat. He managed to find some caps and collect some meat off it, but not much else. Following the road, he came to a turn where some mongrels and two bloodbugs were fighting.
"Hey, Codsworth," Mason said as he pulled out a switchblade, the mongrels killing the last bug. "Get ready for a fight."
Before Codworth is ready, one of the mongrels jumps at Mason. Grabbing it by the throat, he stabs it in the side of the head before setting it down. Another one tries to bite his arm, but he elbows it, hitting it in the eye. Dogmeat grabbed it by the throat, tearing into it. Mason turned to go for another mongrel before feeling something sharp bite his leg. Flipping the blade, Mason stabbed the mongrel in the neck.
"Get off, bâtard!" Mason yelled as he kicked the animal off. As it fell, Mason kneeled, planting his knee in its stomach. The mongrel squealed, the weight crushing its ribs. Then, stabbing it in its head, Mason put the thing out of its misery.
"Thanks Codsworth," Mason said as Codsworth killed the last mongrel.
"Not a problem sir. Doing what I can to help."
After addressing his wound, he collected the meat off the animals and bugs, then wrapped it in foil that he'd brought in case he ran into animals, so it helped conserve the meat for longer. After wrapping the meat from the bugs, he put his bag back on and continued walking. He collected what plants he could on the way, figuring he'd find a use for them later. Coming to a bend in the road, he saw a woman in a blue flannel and jacket. As he nears her, she flags him down.
"I carry the highest quality alternative medicine products you can find in the Commonwealth today. Interested?" she asked as he approached her.
"So you're a doctor," Mason asked since that is what she seemed to be. Most people don't exactly offer alternative forms of medicine.
"No, I'm not a doctor. Traditional medicine is adequate if that's all you have, but I offer something much, much better."
Mason wanted to say something but let her continue.
"Traditional medicine cures you today. Alternative medicine can improve your overall health and vitality forever. It's true. Trust me. Use my healing preparations often enough and you will see an improvement in your overall health." She reminded him of a pre-war salesman—all preppy and nice. "Got a little question for you, Say you find a little kid in a cave. He's all alone, hasn't eaten in days. Scared to death. When you walk up to him, you can see he has a nice little collection of stolen goods. What do you do?"
After thinking about it for a minute, Mason responded. "I would lead the boy to safety, then hand him over to whoever is in charge."
"Hmm. Sounds like something a synth might say, sympathetic instead of irritated." What the hell is a synth? Before He could ask, she continued, "But my gut tells me you're human. Where are you headed?"
"Tracking a murderer," He told her, clearly angry. "The bastard who shot my wife. Took my son. I don't even have a clue who he is or where he's gone."
"Bet you a hundred caps the Institute was behind it. Their synths are a fucking plague on the Commonwealth," She says without dropping her cheerful attitude. "I'll help you track him if you want. I'd love nothing better than to bag one of those murdering, kidnapping sons of bitches."
"The Institute? Who are they?" He questioned. not knowing since he had only woken up a little over a week ago.
"Nobody knows," she says. "What we do know is they send robot's in the Commonwealth to fuck with us." Why would anyone do that? What's the point of it?
"I need a partner," She continued before he could say anything. "Someone to watch my back. I'll give you a discount on my products and two hundred caps if you join me. I need to get off the caravan trail and I need to… do something else. And, you know, you hear about all this cool stuff in the Commonwealth, but when all you do is bust your ass on the road, you never see it."
"Why would you trust me?" Mason questioned. It was a bit odd for someone to ask someone they didn't know. "A stranger."
"My only other option is a Caravan Guard," she answers, still in her cheerful voice. "And every time one opens his mouth to say something, a complaint falls out. Not that desperate yet. So, will you take my offer? Team up with me?"
After sighing, Mason says, "Give me the details."
"There's not much to tell," she admits. "The names Casdin. Heather Casdin. Been on the road my whole life. Been training my whole life. If something's going on in the Commonwealth, I know about it. Traders love to gossip."
"I have a newspaper article for you to read," she said as she handed him a newspaper. "I don't want to talk about it, but it's true. Someone did get out and it was me. Thought you might like to know why I'm so trigger happy around synths."
He almost turns to keep heading to Corvega since it seems she'll be following from now despite how she worded that. But before he can, she stops him and gives him what looks like a distress beacon.
"Oh, one more thing. I've got a transponder for you to carry. Flick it on, and I'll be able to track you if we get separated. That's it. That's all I've got."
They decided to check the nearby graveyard for anything, with Mason finding a magazine that had the codes for hacking turrets, which would probably help him later. At one point, they encountered a raider, but Heather made quick work of her. Mason wondered if he should look out for her but thought nothing of it. On the one hand, it meant she had experience. On the other hand, she seemed more concerned with getting rid of synths. Finally, as they neared a landfill, Codsworth spoke up.
"I dare say my sensors are picking up quite the smell. I can't imagine it must be very pleasant for you sir!" He remarked as they neared the place. Then, hearing the ground shake, Mason gestured for them to get ready and pulled out his pistol.
Looking around, Mason studies the ground, waiting for the rats to pop up. Aiming, Mason pulled the trigger, shooting one in the head as it popped up. Without pausing for a breath, he turned around and fired, hitting another as it popped up. Before he can turn, he feels the ground rumble by his feet. Turning, he feels earth hit his leg as a rat pops out of the ground, and it goes to bite his arm before he grabs its throat. Sticking the barrel to its head, he pulls the trigger. Dropping the body, Mason kicks another rat in the side, knocking it down before stomping on its head, crushing it under his foot. When Mason turned, he saw Heather coming out from under the junkpile in the middle of the yard and saw some ashes on her boots.
"Guess you got the rodents in there," Mason remarked, annoyed by the ash. Could've used the meat from the rodents.
"Just three of them," Heather said as she came up to him.
"Could've used them for meat," Mason remarked as he put his gun away and picked up the nearest corpse. "Now one thing I learned growing up is that no matter what type of meat it is, if prepared right, it's healthy to eat. Doesn't always taste good, but it's better than nothing."
"You're right on that," Heather smiled. "Though I prefer herbs."
"Well here," Mason said as he set the bodies down and took his bag off. "I found some plants. Didn't know what I was going to do with them. I guess you can find a use for them."
"For me? You shouldn't have," Heather said as he handed the plants to her. As he collected the meat off the rats, Mason had a slight smile on his face, something Heather noticed.
"Alright, let's get going. Codsworth, stay behind us. Casdin, stay between," Mason commanded as he picked up his helmet. After putting it on and securing it in place, he made sure his pistol was loaded before they started moving. As they were moving, Mason tuned into a radio station on the Pip-Boy, Diamond City Radio, and heard a song he hadn't heard in a while and chuckled.
"Well I'm gettin' tired workin' hard every day," Mason sang as the song started. "Workin' every day and not a-gettin' much pay."
Codsworth's sensors seemed to widen when Mason sang, while Heather just enjoyed the entertainment. As they walked, Mason sang songs, albeit much lower than he used to. He used to do it to bring people's spirits up, though he hadn't done it for a while. On the way to Corvega, they find an old retirement home, Mystic Pines. While searching through the place, they found some good scrap and junk and a magazine that shows Mason how to get better prices. Knowing Corvega was nearby, though a three-hour walk, it was also getting dark out, so after finding a bed and taking his bag and armor off, he laid down for some rest.
"You guys ready?" Mason yelled to Heather and Codsworth as he put his helmet on, both of whom were by the place's entrance. "Let's move. Same formation as yesterday." While they were walking, Mason showed Heather a few signals to tell her information without speaking.
Mason gestured for them to slow down as they were walking, Heather crouching and Codsworth slowing down.
"Merde," Mason muttered as he listened. He could hear the hum of two turrets and two people talking. Mason saw a raider talking to someone above him when he peered around the corner, probably another one. Letting them know what he can tell is there, he gestures for them to take care of the turrets while he took care of the raiders.
After taking a deep breath, Mason turned around the corner and aimed. Pulling the trigger, he fired a shot, hitting the raider.
"Fuck, my ass!" the raider yelled, which almost made Mason laugh. To be fair, he had been aiming for the man's spine, the raider moving at the last minute. Before he moves forward, Mason crouches behind the rubble as a turret turns to him, the bullets hitting the ground behind him, a few bullets flying overhead.
"Motherfucker!" one of the raiders yelled as he tried to fire at Mason. As he stayed crouched down, Mason heard one of the turrets explode and grinned. Getting up, he sprinted forward, keeping himself as small as possible, which was challenging due to his frame.
"To be fair," Mason said as he neared the man. "I made her one."
The raider fired twice, a bullet hitting his helmet, three hitting his shoulders. As the raider went to reload, Mason grabbed him by the face and slammed him into the wall, knocking the man to the ground. Before he could get up, Mason fired a round into his head. As he stood up, he staggered to the left as a bullet hit him in the helmet from something stronger than a piper weapon. Turning to the raider, he could see her visibly shiver; and grabbed the edge of the building she was on and lifted himself to her level.
The raider couldn't move. She had just fired a bullet into his head, and he just shook it off like it was a baseball! When he turned to her, she couldn't help but take a step back. She couldn't see anything behind the silver glass, but she could feel it. The blood lust coming from him. Like he wanted to do stuff to her, that would make her beg for death. When she saw him lift himself to her level and step up to her, she gulped. The scariest thing wasn't his build but his height. Towering over her, she couldn't help but feel small, like she was an ant that was trying to fight something larger than itself.
"J'aurais dû faire de meilleurs choix," the man said, and before she could even register anything, he aimed his gun to her head before continuing. "Any last words."
"J-Jared will kill you," she managed to say, despite fear crippling her.
"He's who I'm after."
As he picked the weapon up off the raider, Mason looked at the woman and sighed. It never got easier. Going through the woman's pockets, he got some caps and bullets, which was nice enough on its own. Then, as he checked the man's body, he found more caps and ammunition, though for a pipe weapon over the revolver rifle he got from the woman.
"You guys doing alright," Mason asks as he takes off his chest piece. One of the bullets the man shot had managed to barely get through the armor and break the skin, leaving it in pain. Fortunately, it was his left and not his right, so his aiming wouldn't be too horrible. Worse than before, but not enough to put him out of commission.
"'Tis but a scratch," Codsworth said, referring to the bullets that had bounced off him.
"Give me a minute," Heather said as she took out a cream of sorts. Guess it helped wounds not hurt as much.
Once he finished taking care of his wound and putting extra padding on it, Mason put his armor back on and notices Heather looking at him.
"What?" He asked, confused why she was looking at him.
"You don't look the way people would expect."
"I can't tell if that's good or bad," Mason remarked. It wasn't anything new, but in some situations, that was good, but it was annoying sometimes.
"You look younger than expected. That's all," She stated, which Mason didn't understand. How could someone look younger than they were?
"I get that often," Mason said. "Apparently it ran in my family."
Once Heather gets ready, they get up and start walking to the assembly plant.
