"I want to come with you," Gale repeated. John sighed before looking at Fawkes, who returned his gaze evenly.

"Gale, I'm telling you, you don't know what you're asking," John replied. She huffed in frustration.

"Yes, I do. I'm asking you to help me get out of this town so I can see the world," she said. John had brought her back to meet Fawkes after dinner with Bonzo and Smith. They had sat there for several hours, answering Gale's questions and telling her the true stories behind all the legends she had heard. Gale had sat entranced, listening to the two of them. Fawkes, for his part, had graciously answered her questions and tolerated her stares. It was Fawkes who replied to her.

"Gale, in all things, a calm heart must prevail. You are being too hasty, are too enthralled by our stories to step back and think logically."

"What isn't logic…"

"Gale, stop," John interrupted. She fell silent. "You're 19. You've never left Coalseam. Have you ever fired a gun? Do you know anything about what a violent encounter is like?"

"Did you before you left the Vault?" she immediately shot back. It was his turn to be silent now. She had him there. "And I'm not like you when you left the Vault. I won't be alone; I won't be walking into a fight. And I'll have four experienced people to help me. And you can teach me! You can show me how to shoot and fight and survive!" she went on, voice rising in excitement. John could see she had her mind set on the idea.

"We don't know what we're walking into. And I don't know if I could live with myself if something were to happen to you. But I know that I can't tell you no. Just do me a favor, Gale, and listen to what Fawkes said. Go home tonight and think hard about this. Look at your family, your home, and really understand that it will be the last time you see them for a very long time. And then, if you're still set on this, meet us at our wagon tomorrow. We'll be leaving around 6 AM," he said to her, rising to show her to the door. It was late, and he wanted a decent night's sleep before hitting the road again. She followed him to the door before throwing her arms around his neck and pulling him into a hug. She smells like flowers, he thought.

"Thank you," she whispered in his ear. "I promise I won't let you down." She released him before turning and walking away. Nice ass, the animal side of his brain whispered as he watched her leave. He immediately shut the thought down. He had Amata waiting for him back home. John turned back to Fawkes, who was still watching him.

"I don't know why people seem to flock to me," John said.

"You're a legend. And you always were charismatic. But are you sure this is a good idea? An extra person, one inexperienced in the nature of the Wastes, could be a liability," Fawkes replied. John nodded at him.

"I know. But she has a point. She's really not that much different from me when I was her age," he began. "And there's something else. Something I can't put my finger on. But it feels like she's trying to escape something. And if I can help her, I feel like I should," he said. Fawkes chuckled at him.

"Very well, my friend. Are you off to sleep?"

"Yeah. I need it. Bonzo said the Interior Desert is going to be bad."

"It is most unpleasant. But not too daunting, aside from Columbus and Indianapolis," he replied.

"So I'm told. I'll find out soon enough, I suppose. Good night, Fawkes," John said as he closed the door to the room. His own room was just down the hall, and he stripped off his clothes as soon as he reached it, before falling asleep. And that night Lucy West visited his dreams.

He made his way through the streets the next morning, Regulator duster catching the breeze behind him. He was still perturbed by the previous night's dream. He was drawn from his thoughts by the sight of the caravan, being prepared by Bonzo and Smith. The Brahmin were hitched and looked to be almost ready to go. And standing there, carrying a small pack and wearing a simple t-shirt and miner's pants, was Gale. She shifted her weight nervously, knowing she was the odd person out. John felt Bonzo's stare, looking over to find the trader raising an eyebrow at him. He looked from Bonzo back to Gale, before nodding his head.

"Alright. Let's load up and get out of here," he said.

The first thing Reilly noticed upon entering her command room was the breathlessness of the just-returned patrol. That observation was quickly supplanted by the realization that they were two men short. Brick, her former heavy weapons specialist, began speaking before Reilly could ask any question.

"Ambush, Reilly. Up off Pennsylvania Avenue." Reilly was taken aback by that. It was a rare occurrence that any of her patrols encountered anything that could trouble them. They had expanded in the years that had gone by since the Enclave had been destroyed and the super-mutants wiped out. From her small, makeshift team, they had expanded to a company of 50 mercs, mainly made up by those the Brotherhood didn't select to join their ranks. They had reached a deal, one brokered by the Lone Wanderer, towards the end of the wars, with the Brotherhood. The Brotherhood sent them recruits and gave them the run of the northern D.C. ruins, and in return the Rangers kept the peace, protected the populace, and guarded the water caravans. It had seemed a fair enough deal at the time, Reilly had thought. She had become disillusioned, though, by the Brotherhood's hoarding of energy weapons and the quality of some of the recruits the Brotherhood had sent to her. Still, they had enough people now that she had split the company into squads, giving leadership to her old team, ensuring the new members would have someone experienced keeping an eye on them. Or at least that had been the plan.

"Ambushed by who, Brick?" Reilly asked.

"Fucking raiders," Brick spat out. The wide eyes on the faces of her squad confirmed her story. Reilly felt a twist in her stomach.

"Raiders? After all this time?"

"You know anyone else that runs around in leather and welding masks?" Brick replied, the sarcasm conveying her annoyance with Reilly's questions. Butcher, who had silently entered the room, interjected in an attempt to calm the situation.

"Why don't you take us through what happened, Brick? Where are Cole and Herc?"

"Dead. They got killed in the initial exchange. We were on mission when we got opened up on by a group of six of them, firing from a building. It seemed like all of them had assault rifles, there was a lot of fire coming at us. We returned fire by they caught us in the open, there was no cover. I told the kids to break contact, covered them myself. We couldn't get to Herc and Cole's bodies, though. They're still out there."

"Then they could still be alive," Reilly responded immediately.

"Doubt it," Brick replied. "I saw Cole take one in the head myself."

"We still can't leave them out there," Reilly replied, turning to Butcher. "Go get Donovan. Tell him to have his squad ready in ten minutes. We're going after them," she commanded, before turning back to Brick. "Rearm and get water. Your squad is going too," she said. Brick scowled.

"You putting him in charge?" she asked. Reilly rolled her eyes. Three years hadn't been enough for her and Donovan to make peace.

"No, Brick. I'll be in charge." That got Brick's attention.

"You're coming with us?" she asked.

"Yeah. I'm tired of spending all my time in this compound. And if raiders are attacking again, people will need to know. You're dismissed, Brick. Have your people out front within ten minutes," Reilly said, before moving to put on her armor. She wasn't scared, but the thought of raiders again made her uncomfortable. She had begun to take peace for granted.

There was no sign of the raiders as they approached the kill zone the Rangers had been ambushed in. It was possible, of course, the raiders had decided to lay low when they saw the group of 20 Rangers approach. The silence is almost eerie, Reilly thought. The only sound was the light breeze blowing through the rubble. Reilly gave the command to fan out, spreading her Rangers in a loose line in the hopes of spotting the missing men. It wasn't long before a cry went up. Reilly and the others ran their way over to where the yell came from, people slowing to a stunned walk at the sight that greeted them. The two Rangers were very obviously dead, their bodies suspended from meat hooks, blood pooling on the ground beneath them.

"Shit," Reilly whispered as a small group began to take the men down. Brick had been right. There was at least one band of raiders operating in the Capital Wasteland again. Donovan approaching drew her attention from the two dead men.

"Why do you think they came back after all this time?" he asked. Reilly had been turning the question over ever since Brick had delivered her report.

"Well…I think it's because the Wanderer is gone. Three-Dog has been broadcasting that nonstop for the past few weeks. When the raiders disappeared, was it because he got them all? Or because they were scared of what he would do to them?" she replied.

"You don't think the Brotherhood scares them?" he asked, surprise in his voice.

"Not the way the Wanderer did. I heard the reports from Evergreen Mills after he and his crew cleared it. Every raider they captured was hung as a warning to the others, with one exception. The one that was left alive was meant to go tell the other raiders they knew that there would be no mercy for them. I think a lot of them just took the hint and decided it wasn't worth it. I mean really, do you think someone that enjoys hanging people from meat hooks is going to suddenly be reformed?" Reilly said back. Donovan thought for a moment before nodding.

"Makes sense. In that case, maybe someone should tell Three-Dog to shut up about it. The last thing we need is the raiders coming back like they were before."

Achilles had begun to feel something unfamiliar when he was with Emily. He had been back in Shady Sands for a week, and there was nothing urgent that required him to leave again soon. Emily had seemed happy to hear that when he told her, his first night back in town. What he had initially thought of as an amusing diversion during his trips through the area had subtly began to change as he spent more time with her. While he still saw himself as a man of the Legion, complete with all the ambitions he had always held; he had, for the first time, briefly contemplated life outside the Legion. The thought quickly vanished as he remembered where he was, in the capital of a corrupt, decaying nation collapsing under its own weight. If he could save Emily, though, he had decided he would. She was merely dissolute; not a complete profligate. How to warm her up to the idea, though, was the difficulty. She was older than him, and both brilliant and stubborn in equal measure. The NCR had conducted a very effective propaganda campaign amongst its own people, convincing most of the supposed horror of the Legion. They had even managed to convince many NCR citizens that legionaries eschewed women to lay with other men. In reality, nothing could be further from the truth. He had been no more than 10 when he was made to watch two deviants, as the Legion called them, be scourged and crucified. Their legs were left unbroken, and it took two days for the men to die of shock caused by hypovolemia. It had struck Achilles, even at 10, as a massive waste. He had been smart enough, though, to keep his mouth shut. But someday, once he ascended to power in the Legion, he would put an end to that ridiculous policy. That and the ban on medicinal chems were Achilles' two strongest disagreements with Caesar. While he didn't question Caesar's wisdom in regards to most chems-he had seen how loathsome the Fiends in New Vegas were-the ban on Stimpaks, especially, seemed absurd. Legionaries were already out-gunned by the NCR, and their armor was substantially inferior; denying them something that could increase their survivability seemed the height of disregard for their lives. Achilles had been a line legionary before being recruited into the frumentarii; he had been a prime legionary by the time he was 22. He still had friends in the regular centuriae, and while they were too disciplined to ever question Caesar, he knew they resented the way they were being denied an advantage.

Achilles quietly slid from bed, trying to not wake Emily as he did. She stirred slightly before rolling back over. He made his way silently to the front door of the apartment, retrieving the newspaper that lay outside of it before taking a seat on the sofa in the living room. Idly flipping through the paper, he waited for Emily to wake up. The only thing particularly interesting was an article about an address Aaron Kimball, President of the NCR, had made to Congress. It was standard political tripe, mostly-a strong economy, rebuilding the Wasteland, and defeating the Legion were supposedly the main goals of his administration. Achilles felt a twist of disgust in his stomach. He truly despised Kimball, and often wished he'd receive the order to assassinate the man. The NCR's security around the President while in Shady Sands was formidable, though. So Kimball was free to continue to parrot his lies while the Legion bided their time and waited for him to make a mistake and come into the open. Emily striding into the room, sans clothing, drew his attention from the paper. He looked at her, instantly feeling his desire begin to ignite at the sight of her lean, tall form. She smiled, as if reading his mind, before sitting next to him on the sofa and planting a kiss on him. He returned it, running his hand over her thigh as he did. The skin was smooth under his palm. She broke away, sitting back and looking at him.

"How're you this morning?" she asked, eyes glancing at the bulge in the front of his underwear. He smiled back at her.

"I'm just fine. Just reading the paper while I waited for you," he replied as he leaned forward to kiss her neck, moving her hair out of the way as he did. She shuddered slightly as his lips grazed her skin.

"Anything good?" she whispered as his hand slid up her thighs before finding their mark, already waiting for him. She gasped as he began to lightly touch her.

"Kimball being Kimball," he replied softly as he kissed over her body, before turning her to lay lengthwise on the couch. She began to speak, but the words were lost as his mouth grazed over her, tongue flicking out to please her. Quiet moans escaped her as he warmed her up. She was the only woman he had done this to, and, judging by her reaction, he had a talent for it. He slid off his underwear while he went down on her, before rising and entering her. Her eyes rolled back as he began to gently move in her. Achilles looked over the woman beneath him, before the realization hit him. He cared about her. Loved her, perhaps. The last thing a legionary was supposed to do, and he had done it. And yet, that seemed a distant concern, his attention solely focused on her pleasure. There would be plenty of time to figure out how this fit into his life in the Legion later.

Amata sat in the clinic, waiting on Elliot to begin her two week checkup. She had filled out the questionnaire he had given her, charting her physical and emotional progress through the pregnancy. She didn't feel hugely different, other than the morning sickness and the increasing difficulty in working out as hard as she normally did. The weepiness she had experienced in the early weeks seemed to have mostly faded, and, coupled with her refusal to let the Vault residents see any weakness from her, had reduced how much she cried. She still hadn't told her father, but had decided that if everything went well with her checkup she would tell him that day. Several more minutes passed before Elliot, accompanied by Jane, entered the room. He smiled at her as she rose to her feet to greet him.

"Good morning, Overseer. How have you been feeling?" he asked as he guided her to a seat on the examining table.

"Fine. Nauseous, and tired, but otherwise fine," she replied as she perched herself on the table. He laughed lightly at her reply.

"That's totally normal, nothing to be concerned about. It should begin to go away in the next few weeks. How have you been feeling about everything?" he asked as he scanned her answers on the questionnaire.

"I'm ok," Amata began. "Still haven't told anyone, and I still wish JJ were here, but otherwise I feel ok about this. Kind of excited, really," she replied, grinning slightly. Elliot and Jane both smiled back at her.

"Good," Elliot replied. "Being positive will make everything easier. So we're going to do the first ultrasound today, as well as some more testing to check for any possible birth defects," he explained to her, before guiding her back to one of the specialized examining rooms in the clinic. Amata unzipped the top half of her Vault suit before lying back on the table as Jane got the machine running. Elliot had her lift her undershirt to expose her stomach, before dispensing a gel over her abdomen. Jane ran the ultrasound paddle over her, all of them intent on the screen until it finally found it's target. Amata stared at the shape, something that resembled a jellybean. Elliot looked for a moment before speaking up.

"Everything looks normal for this stage," he began as Jane removed the paddle and handed Amata a towel to clean up with. She rubbed off the gel as Elliot continued. "Will you want to know the sex of the baby?" he asked. Amata thought on that for a moment.

"No," she replied at last. "I'd rather it be a surprise."

"Very well," he said as she stood back up. "I won't need to see you until the end of the first trimester, so plan on coming back in six weeks. By then you'll be starting to show, so I can issue you maternity suits as well," he continued as they made their way to the doorway of the clinic.

"Everything looked normal?" Amata asked, seeking confirmation. The first glimpse she had gotten of the life growing inside her had taken her breath away.

"Completely. We'll run these amniocentesis, but I think everything is going to be just fine," Elliot replied, smiling at her. Amata smiled back in relief, shaking his hand before leaving for her office. She needed to brace herself before telling her father.

The hours dragged by, doing nothing to alleviate Amata's anxiety. She kept replaying every way the conversation could go wrong in her head. Her father had never liked JJ, and had not been shy about expressing his displeasure at their relationship. This, though, would be a whole other level. Her father was a traditional man; he probably would have thrown JJ in the Vault jail if he'd known that Amata and he had been sleeping together. And no matter how much she tried to mentally prepare herself, she still dreaded her father's wrath. The memory of the beating she had received when James and JJ escaped the Vault was still with her. She had debated asking Susie to come, but had decided that this was a situation she had to handle alone. The evening finally came, and after eating her dinner in solitude, Amata made her way to her father's quarters, entering to find him listening to a holotape while reading. He looked up, smiling at her before taking off his glasses and setting the book down.

"Good evening, Overseer. What can I do for you?"

"I wanted to talk to you, daddy," Amata replied, taking a seat across the table from him. He looked at her expectantly as she shifted uncomfortably in the seat, trying to work up the nerve to tell him what was happening.

"Well?" he asked after a moment of awkward silence.

"There's no easy way to say this…" she began as he raised an eyebrow at her. "I'm pregnant, dad." There was silence as he stared at her, his jaw visibly clinching.

"Pregnant," he repeated in a deliberate tone.

"Yes," she replied. He breathed heavily, rubbing his eyes and the bridge of his nose as if warding off a headache.

"By whom?" he asked, eyes still closed and a grimace on his face.

"JJ," she replied, drawing a sharp intake of breath from her father. He breathed deeply for several seconds, as if trying to calm himself.

"Him. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. I take it this happened when you and the others left the Vault last month?"

"Yes," she replied. "We went to Megaton for his birthday." Her father's jaw clinched more tightly at that.

"I have never understood what you saw in that young man; but that's irrelevant now. I take it he will be moving back into the Vault and marrying you?" She shifted again. He was not going to like her next answer.

"Actually…I don't even know where he is. He left four days after his birthday. He said he was heading for California." Her father stared at her, the anger visible in his eyes.

"You're pregnant by a man who has left you to go on some ludicrous trek across the Wastes?"

"It's JJ, dad. I'm sure he has a good reason…"

"The same way he and his father had a good reason when they fled the Vault? Have you forgotten the damage that caused?" he exploded, his anger finally overcoming his self-control. Amata fought the urge to shrink back, instead standing her ground.

"I remember perfectly. And guess what, dad? So do the Wastes. He left here and did more in 18 months than most people do in a lifetime. You should be proud that your grandchild has his blood," she replied. He was taken aback by the fierceness of her response.

"How did my girl grow up to be a whore? Where did I go wrong?" he replied heatedly, glaring at her. Amata's jaw dropped, an incredulous look on her face before pushing away from the table and standing up.

"I've heard enough. I came here as a courtesy, dad. Although after this, I know I don't want you to have anything to do with my child," she spat out as she stalked toward the door. "Oh, and whore, dad? Really? JJ is the only man I've been with," she finished, before storming out of the room. Alphonse almost immediately regretted what he had said; but he didn't know if the damage would be repairable this time.

The Interior Desert gave new meaning to the word miserable. They were two weeks out of Coalseam, having passed the ruins of Columbus, Ohio two days previously. The scorching sun, the endless, rolling desert, and the lack of any towns to distract from it all made the trip mind numbing. The fact that it would likely be another month to Kansas City did nothing to make things easier. Gale's charming personality was about the only thing stopping John from losing his mind. She could make conversation about anything, and he had begun teaching her the basics of marksmanship. They had started with his 10mm pistol, and she had gradually learned the basics. Her being with them also made John walk more, and the weight he had gained in retirement was beginning to shed from his frame. On the other hand, the increased walking was hell on his knee; and his regular dose of Med-X was beginning to lose its effectiveness. He was hesitant to increase the dosage, though, fearing what would happen if he ran out before reaching K.C.

"John, I'm bored. Tell me a story," Gale called down from her seat on the wagon, looking devoid of any energy. The group as a whole couldn't help but laugh at her demand, even Smith chuckling to himself at it.

"Ok, Gale. What'd you want to hear?" he replied, smiling under the wide brim of his hat.

"Something I haven't heard yet. How about…you've never told me about Sarah. What about her? Did you really love her like the stories say?" John grimaced. He was still trying to sort through his feelings about Lucy after the dreams he'd had; the last thing he needed was Sarah's memory thrown into the mix. Looking at Gale's expectant face, though, he couldn't bring himself to deny her.

"Yeah, I loved her," he replied. She looked at him, waiting for him to continue. When he didn't, she spoke.

"When did you know you did?" Gale asked. He sighed as he thought. He knew exactly when it was.

"Fawkes was actually with me when I realized," he said. Gale raised her eyebrows.

"Really? When was it?"

"It was right after we had fought our way to Project Purity…" he began.

Autumn and his guard lay dead in the rotunda of the Memorial. Sarah and he had no time to rejoice in their victory as the intercom came to life.

"Hello? Hello, is anyone there?" a woman's voice asked over the line. John recognized it. Dr. Madison Li, and she sounded frantic. Sarah ran up the metal stairs to the intercom as Li continued. "This is Dr. Li, there's something wrong with the Purifier." Sarah responded before John could.

"Dr. Li? This is Sarah Lyons. I'm in the control room, we both are. What's going on?"

"I've been monitoring the equipment remotely, and we have a serious problem. The facility has been damaged in the fighting. Some looks accidental, some may have been sabotage. There's pressure building in the holding tanks; it needs to be released now or the whole facility could explode. To release the pressure you're going to have to turn the Purifier on, do you understand me? It has to be turned on NOW! If I'm reading this right, I'm afraid there are lethal levels of radiation in the chamber. I'm sorry, I wish there was some other way, but there's just no time. It has to be turned on now or the damage will be catastrophic." The line went silent as John turned to face Sarah, a look of resignation on her face.

"Well, so much for celebrating," she said, staring into his eyes sadly. "One of us is going to have to go in there and turn the damned thing on. And whoever does it isn't coming back out. Not exactly how I imagined going out, you know? So, what should we do? Draw straws?" John looked at Sarah, letting himself appreciate how beautiful she was, underneath the armor and the hard exterior. Not that it mattered now. His life would be over within five minutes. At the base of the stairs Fawkes stood. John knew, in the logical part of his head, that Fawkes could do it with no problem; he was resistant to radiation. But he couldn't bring himself to send someone else in to do a job he knew, in his heart, was his. The Purifier was his mother and father's dream. It was only right that he finish it. He also knew exactly what the Purifier's passcode would be, his father's voice echoing through his memory, across the years. "I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end. I will give unto him that is athirst of the fountain of the water of life freely."

"I'll do it. I'll start the Purifier," he said to her, turning to Fawkes before she could respond. "Fawkes, it's been an honor fighting alongside you. Take advantage of your freedom. Make it count," he said, extending his hand. Fawkes took it, his massive hand swallowing John's.

"I will. Thank you for everything. I will never forget it. Farewell, my friend." John turned back to Sarah. Her eyes were red. He could feel the crush of time weighing down on him, the remainder of his life ticking away. The Purifier had to be activated; he couldn't afford a drawn out farewell with Sarah.

"John, you don't have to do…" she began, before he stopped her, grabbing her shoulders and pulling her into a kiss. The shock quickly passed and she began pressing back against him. He pulled away, their foreheads touching as he looked down into her eyes.

"Goodbye, Sarah," he whispered, before shoving her back into Fawkes, who wrapped her up. Her eyes went wide as she realized what was happening.

"No! God dammit, let me go!" she shrieked as John raced into the airlock, beginning the cycling process. Seeing her fury, her desperate struggle to get to him, he realized that he loved her. She had gotten to him over their time fighting together. He felt a moment of self-pity as he realized it would never be. He would die here, in the Jefferson Memorial. No future awaited him, but he could give the Wasteland a future. The door to the chamber opened, the heat and radiation hitting him like a wall. He staggered forward, the words from Tecumseh keeping him focused. "When it comes your time to die, be not like those whose hearts are filled with the fear of death…"

2. His knees buckled as he desperately grabbed the edges of the console to steady himself.

1."So that when their time comes to die they weep and pray for a little more time to live their lives over again in a different way…" his strength began to fail and he sunk to his knees, his vision blurring as a powerful fatigue began to overtake him. With his last ounce of strength, he focused on the console and hit the last number.

6. "Sing your death song, and die like a hero going home." Above him, from a place that seemed very distant, he heard machinery humming and got a glimpse, through clear water, of Thomas Jefferson. His head rolled to the side, and the last thing he saw was Sarah, desperately banging on the glass. And then everything went black.

There was silence after John finished his story. While they had all heard the basic story, none of them had ever gotten all the details, not to that extent.

"Wow," Gale said, looking at him. "So that's what all the traders were talking about."

"Yup," John replied, looking back. "And that's when I realized I loved Sarah. Right before I went to my death. God, apparently, has a sense of humor."

So that's the longest chapter I've written so far. Also the longest break in between chapters. Sorry about that, for those of you reading this on the regular. Got busy with stuff on the homefront and had to handle that. Hopefully I'll be back on the regular now. Also, been turning over the idea for a story that kind of ties into this. It would basically be a series of one-offs, the adventures of the Lone Wanderer after the conclusion of Broken Steel but before this story began; basically charting the destruction of the super-mutants and raiders and the falling out with the Brotherhood. If any of you who have been reading this think that would be interesting, let me know. As always, thanks for all the feedback and taking the time to read, it is appreciated.