Meeting with Gage on the top deck of the Fizztop Grille and hearing him explain the situation made Tuesday feel infinitely worse. Not that it was a surprise.

They couldn't leave. They were stuck here, she was stuck as the new leader of a bunch of bloodthirsty pricks, and it was all her fault. If she had just listened to her instincts after speaking with Harvey, they wouldn't be in this mess. If she had just let go of her rabid desperation to do something good, do something right no matter what, she might have actually been able to see what was truly right.

It wasn't this.

She knew it was useless to argue, but she gave it a shot anyway: "Sorry, pal. I don't want the job," she told Gage in a tone like ice. She felt Piper press an approving hand against the small of her back and took a small comfort in knowing that she was at least doing right by someone. It was quickly overshadowed by the agonizing realization that her massive slip-up was going to make her partner suffer, too.

Gage scoffed like maybe he thought she was joking. "It ain't that easy, boss. These guys are already half a piss from tearing each other's throats out. You try and leave now, that ain't gonna go over so well."

Tuesday once again had to clench her fists and take a deep breath to keep her hand off her pistol. She was wondering if Gage would look any less ugly with a hole through his face. Probably not.

Piper's hand slid smoothly up her spine, drawing attention to the painful tension that had amassed between her shoulder blades, coaxing her to release it. And Tuesday tried to, with some effort, but couldn't quite manage to shake the heavy guilt weighing down her muscles. On a defeated sigh she managed to say somewhat levelly, "Great. Thanks for the advice. You can go now."

Gage grumbled something as he left, which Tuesday intentionally ignored before shutting and locking the door firmly behind him. As soon as she and Piper were alone, Tuesday felt her walls come crumbling down. She wrapped her arms around herself in an attempt at holding herself together, but her words still came out in a shudder when she blurted, "I'm so sorry I dragged you into this, Piper." She could feel her expression crumpling in a reflection of her pain. This was too fucking much. "I thought we were just going to save some guy's family, not—not sign on to lead a bunch of thieves and murderers."

Piper stepped in close to cradle her cheeks in both hands. Her touch was warm, soothing, and only served to make Tuesday feel guiltier. "You did what you thought was right," the reporter comforted, stroking along her cheekbones. "Same as always."

"But it wasn't this time," Tuesday lamented, pulling away with eyes squeezed shut against her partner's condolences. She didn't deserve them. "Piper, we're stuck here. You're stuck here," she pointed out miserably. "What about Nat? What about the settlements? What about the Minutemen? The Institute?" She could feel herself growing more desperate; more frantic by the second as visions of a deadly future—a future she caused—swam behind her eyelids. "Who's going to protect the Commonwealth while we're tied up here?"

Piper followed her retreat. Tuesday could tell she was worried too, but she kept her voice calm, reasonable. "The Minutemen are strong enough to handle themselves for a little while. And so—" Here her certainty cracked a bit. "So is Nat." She recovered with a thin, forced smile. "We'll just have to figure this shit out as fast as possible and then be on our way, huh?"

Tuesday let her shoulders slump in a sigh. She knew she was being weak; being silly, but she was just so, so tired of the shit the world kept throwing at her. This was the worst scenario they'd faced yet. She was the unwilling new head of a hellhole whose very existence was the bane of all she stood for. If she tried to leave, she'd die. Was it a surprise to anyone that she was losing her grip a little bit? "I have a feeling it won't be that easy," she replied in a hoarse attempt at something close to humor.

Piper sighed too and reached up to run a gentle, reflective hand through Tuesday's dark hair. "I hate to say it, but your gut's usually right, Blue."

The vault dweller leaned absently into the attention. For a moment she let her eyes slip closed and her thoughts settle, her world narrowing to nothing but her steady breathing and Piper's soothing hand. "I'm glad you're with me," she murmured before she was aware of the words. Then she stiffened, eyes snapping open again. "Not that I'm glad you're stuck here, just—"

Piper cut her off with a finger against her lips and a gentle kiss on her cheek. "Me too, Blue," she hardly more than whispered into the vault dweller's ear.

And, as much as Tuesday wished that things were different, she supposed this was only inevitable. Piper had said, after all, that she'd brave hell with Tuesday without her even having to ask.

They both just figured it wouldn't actually happen so soon.

…

After foraying a little ways into the Galactic Zone and Kiddie Kingdom and then foraying quickly back out, Tuesday decided firmly, "We are getting the hell out of here."

She had not signed up for any of this. The more time she spent in this nightmare park, the more fresh horrors made themselves known to her. The Galactic Zone was full of dead traders and live robots who could melt the skin off her bones (why the fuck was the park full of laser turrets?), and Kiddie Kingdom was overrun with weirdly hued feral ghouls and irradiated gas. Part of her wondered what the other sections of the part could possibly hold, but a larger part was vehemently opposed to finding out.

If the point of her mission had been to clear the land for some well-meaning settlers, or to save some hostages from the clutches of some nasty beasts, she would have powered through. But doing it for the sake of some bloody raiders? Overboss or not, she hated every uncollared person in this park, and she would be glad to see them tear each other to pieces over some measly strip of territory.

That's why she was seated in one of the booths by the Fizztop Grille picture window instead of out there risking her ass again, mulling over the conversation she'd had with a trader earlier that day.

You could…get rid of the raiders, the woman—Mackenzie, maybe?—had said, very low and very timid in case one of the passing wretches themselves overheard.

I'd have to kill all of them? Tuesday had responded in surprise, not at the suggestion itself but at the enormity of the task. The park was crawling with raiders from every faction, and quarters were close enough that she'd have no chance to gun them all down before getting slaughtered herself.

No, of course not, Mackenzie had assured, giving Tuesday a flash of relief before continuing: Just the leaders of the gangs.

Right. Naturally. Just the leaders, who had the support of all of their respective factions at their backs. As soon as she shot one of them, she'd have them all to reckon with. This trader's idea was solid on paper, but in practice, Tuesday knew better. It was a suicide mission. She'd ended the conversation without indicating whether she was willing to try it or not, but the prospect had been on her mind for the entire rest of the day.

Clearing Nuka-World of raiders was the right thing to do, objectively. As a Minuteman, she was obligated to protect the honest people of the Commonwealth and wipe out any threats to their safety. Knowing just how difficult reaching that goal would be, though, Tuesday was tempted to just hop back on the monorail and leave this place in the dust. The raiders would all kill each other eventually, and the traders would be home free without her having to intervene. Right?

If they didn't get so antsy that they killed all the traders first just for the hell of it.

The truth was, she was going to have to take out these lowlifes whether she liked her odds or not.

So, she decided, she'd just have to improve her odds.

"We're going to go get Preston, and we're going to come back and wipe these assholes off the face of the earth," she said abruptly to her reflection.

"Blue?" prompted Piper gently from the seat across from her. "Remember the part where we can't leave without getting a bullet in the back?"

"No." Tuesday was so deep in her thoughts that she didn't realize at first that she'd answered the wrong question. Then she shook her head lightly to clear it. "I mean, yes. But no, listen. The raiders know that we pulled out of the other sections of the park when it got too dangerous. They know I haven't cleared them out yet, and they don't seem too willing to help me do it themselves. So if I tell them I need to leave to bring back reinforcements…"

"They'll let you go if they think it's in their best interest," Piper realized.

"Right. And it isn't a lie, exactly, because I will be going to get reinforcements," Tuesday added, eyeing the reporter carefully to gauge her response.

Piper recognized what she was doing and reached across the table to grasp her hand earnestly. "Hey. I know I'm a big fan of the truth, but lying to a bunch of liars wouldn't change my opinion of you. You know that, right?"

Tuesday gave her a little half-smile and turned her hand over so she could return Piper's gesture. "Just wanted to be sure." She let herself be distracted for a second by the brush of the reporter's fingers over hers, savoring the only hint of tenderness she'd found in this place yet. Then, "I want you to stay behind. In the Commonwealth," she tacked on in a rush, as if it would be easier that way.

But there was no way to make this easier. Piper removed her hand slowly, focusing intense hazel eyes on Tuesday's face as her words sank in. "Blue," she began lowly, tightly. "We've talked about this."

Tuesday curled her own hand into a fist, regretting the lost touch. Of course they'd talked about this, but that was back when the Institute was their only enemy. When Piper had just as much of a stake in the war as she. "This is different," she sighed. "This is my fault. My fight." She raised her eyes to meet those steady dark ones, but could only hold them for a moment. "You said yourself that you have to get back to Nat."

"I said—" She'd said the opposite and Tuesday knew that, but—

"I know what you meant." Her heart squeezed as Piper deflated, and she ventured to reach for her hand again. The girl didn't shake her off. "We both know you never should have gotten roped into this. This is your chance to get out."

"What about you?" Piper returned rawly, brows furrowing. "If I stay behind and you come back here and get yourself killed, I—" She broke off and shook her head as her voice went too hoarse to speak.

"I always come back."

"Blue, you can't promise that," the reporter argued in a miserable whisper. She raised her grip to Tuesday's forearm and squeezed. "I know you can hold your own, but even you aren't invincible."

"I'll have the Minutemen with me," the vault dweller reminded gently, "and that hunk of junk over there." She jerked her thumb at the suit of power armor standing at its station. "What's the worst that could happen?" She could think of many awful things, but she was hoping her voice came across more confident than she felt.

Piper groaned and let her face drop into her free hand solidly. "Blue, you're never, ever supposed to say that. It's basically jinxing yourself."

Tuesday let out a half-hearted snort before sobering again. "Listen, Piper," she murmured, leaning across the table so she could meet her friend's eyes intently. When the reporter looked up, the hazel of hers was misty. "You're too valuable to knowingly dive headfirst into a literal hive of bloodthirsty raiders. Don't—" She cut off the protest that she knew was coming when Piper inhaled. "Don't argue with me. Please." Tuesday looked down at the reporter's hand still closed around her arm and took it in her own. She turned it over so she could follow the lines of Piper's palm with her eyes, letting it sink in just how human this young woman was. How alive. How fragile. She took an unsteady breath and let it out on the words she didn't want to have to use: "If something happens to me, I want to know the Commonwealth is in good hands."

"No," was Piper's immediate response, her voice tight and sharp. She pulled away and rose to her feet so abruptly that the booth protested against the floor behind her. "No. That's what this is? You think you're going to die so you want to get things in order? No." She tried to swallow down the waver in her voice but could do nothing about the tears rising to her eyes. "Blue, you'd better fucking come back."

Tuesday rose from her seat too and rounded the table so she could brace Piper's shoulders with her hands. The reporter stiffened at the touch for a split second before dissolving into the vault dweller's ready embrace, a hoarse sob escaping from her throat. Tuesday held her tightly, trying to communicate the resolve she felt about this; to let it bolster Piper as it did her.

At the same time she knew it wouldn't work. She knew what she was asking was unfair. She knew that if their positions were reversed and Piper was about to walk into a death trap for the sake of the greater good and leave her behind—

No. She knew it wasn't fair, but it was necessary. There were dozens of innocent people here who needed rescuing, and the only way to do that was to neutralize the raiders. Tuesday was willing to sacrifice her own safety for that cause, but not Piper's too. Defending the Castle from the Institute's raid had been a close call that she never wanted to repeat. They could not both risk themselves when they were such a large part of the small force fighting for good in the Commonwealth. What she'd said was true: she wanted to be sure the Commonwealth was in good hands even if she and Preston failed. She didn't need Piper to like that; only to understand.

She gave her companion a kiss on the temple in a futile attempt at comfort. "I'll do my best," she soothed, tightening her hold on Piper as her shoulders shook. Her own heart was crumbling at the sight; Piper rarely cried, so when she did it was like a knife right to the chest. Her own words were rough as she finished, "but I want to be prepared for the worst."

"Fuck you, Blue." The words trembled as Piper spoke them into Tuesday's shoulder, and the vault dweller had to agree.

…