Authors Note:

Making progress! Slowly but surely we're getting where we need to go.

I added Wiseman because in real life I've totally got a thing for him. If he was a bit more of a smart ass I think he'd be my favorite aside from Hancock.

"Shhut up." I growled down to my stomach, twisting the screwdriver with anger.

"Do you... uh, want something to eat?"

I started at the gravelly voice, a softness sweeping over me. "As soon as I'm done, Wiseman."

He smiled and nodded, "I'll keep the soup warm for ya then."

I watched him walk away. Now there was a man I could admire. Built a civilization for his people when they were excommunicated for simply being different. The thought broke my heart. Even with all the cruelty and madness and death, people still had room for prejudice. If it wasn't all synths, then it was all ghouls.

Why can't people think rationally? I wondered, nearly finished with the final turret. Why do we make everything so black and white?

"Annnddd..." I grabbed a wire and twisted, the machine sputtered to life with the sluggish chugging typical of low-quality turrets. "Done!"

I wiped the sweat dripping from my brow, setting the screwdriver down at the work station and made my way into the old pool house. It was weird and cold, I thought, but the ghouls seemed to enjoy it there just fine. I could respect that. It was their safe haven.

I took a seat at the large table I'd help construct. A bowl of Wiseman's specialty, tar-berry soup, was placed before me. The smell was curious, the color even more so. I smiled over at Wiseman, who had taken a seat across from me watching with veiled eyes.

I took a small sip, "Whoa!"

A huge grin lit up his face. I felt something similar to butterflies find their way into my veins.

"Good huh?"

I nodded, trying to eat slow and failing. It was sweet and spicy and filling without being heavy. When I finished I set my bowl down, kicking back in my chair.

"That was wonderful." I sighed, closing my eyes a little.

"I'm glad you liked it, family recipe." He joked. He leaned forward a little, "We haven't know each other too long. You've been here what? A week?" I nodded, "Tell me if I'm imagining this, but... Well," he shifted in his chair seeming mildly uncomfortable.

The change in the atmosphere between us made me sit straighter, looking him in the eyes. "You know," I interrupted, "I admire what you've done here. What you've done for these people, your ingenuity at using a pool to grow the rarest of crops. You're an amazing man and I am so glad I can call you my friend. Having someone like you on the side of the minute men... well, you're invaluable."

Knowing crossed his face, my stomach sank. I had a crush, a silly crush, because I was lonely and Wiseman truly was a great person, but that did not mean I was ready for anything serious. I still had to find Shaun.

"Ah well." He chuckled ruefully, standing. "I figured who better to throw my hat in with than a woman like you?" His darkened and pinned me for a minute, the shifting emotions in their depths spoke of things I wanted to hear. "You're changing things, you know. It may not be obvious to you, but the roads have never been safer. We have never been safer. I... I admire you for that." He raised a finger, "One person can make a difference. Imagine what a banded community of persons can do?"

I smiled at him as he nodded and walked away. I rested my chin on my hands.

Was I really making a difference? Should I have admitted that I liked him? Was I right to shut him down that way?

Do I... Do I still feel the same way about Shaun? It was a slow dawning horror to notice that the fire in my gut had faded.

I still wanted revenge on the Institute, yes. I still wanted to know if my son was alive, yes. But I didn't feel the sense of urgency. My life had become so much more than my own tragedy. I was a soldier of progress and safety and hope for everyone. Or at least that's what it felt like.

I rubbed my arm, the one the Super Mutant up the road had nearly ripped off my body. Mere hours ago it had been hanging onto me by skin alone, even with a stimpak the bruising was visible. But no one thought of that. No one saw what I took on for them, the battles I fought, and the things I sacrificed.

No relationships. No peace. No staying in one place, constantly moving back and forth, from settlement or farmer or leader or religious nut to some goal that ultimately benefited the whole commonwealth, but left me that much more spread thin, that much more damaged. I stood, the chair scraping against the tiled floor and falling over. I paid it no heed, moving into the room where my things were.

I hesitated, my hand hovering over my bag. The decision warred against me suddenly, railing against every con and pro I could think of. I squeezed my eyes shut so tight I saw red bursts behind my closed lids. My hand clenched.

Shouldn't I be selfish? Just once?

"Hey, are you okay?" Holly's worse for wear voice broke through my turmoil.

Whatever decision I had been struggling with so hard flitted away like darkness after the lights are flipped on.

I took a deep, deep breath and smiled, "Yeah." I felt a laugh bubbling up in my throat, "Yes I am. I am." I sank onto the bed, looking at her.

My nose began burning, I felt something wet drip on my hand. Curiously I looked down, then touched my face. Crying?

"You know," She made her way beside me. "Sometimes, especially when we're going through changes or something hard, we find ourselves warring with all the shit that we think we're supposed to be. 'I can't have this scarred skin! I'm supposed to be smooth! My hair can't be falling out, I'm supposed to have glorious locks.'" Her face screwed up into a withering glare, "Honey, it's all bullshit." She leaned back, arms behind her head, "You're allowed to change you know? Sometimes things happen and they shouldn't happen, but you gotta roll with it anyway."

"You don't understand." I whispered, tears spent. "I'm forgetting about my baby."

"No you aren't." She replied shortly. "You talk about that baby every second of every day to anyone who will listen. You're tired, you're beaten down, you're spent, but you aren't going to forget about your baby. Listen, don't- Hey!" She grabbed my face in her hands, "When you get back out there, don't waste your time running around trying to fix everything for everyone. Go straight for Valentine. He'll help you. I know you know that, but you're so busy being everyone's savior. You gotta put you first sometimes too. It doesn't make you a bad person."

I pushed through the door, assaulted by the smell of stale cigarettes, cheap perfume, must papers.

"Where's Valentine?"

"Oh miss, you gotta help me." The dame with big innocent, watery eyes pleaded, "He's missing!"

It took everything, every last ounce of willpower in my body, not to punch something right then and there. I sighed deeply, wanting to cry myself. Nothing was easy, nothing was every easy. But did it have to be this damn hard?!

"Sure, sure. Give me the details."

"Fuck you, fuckin' fuck!" I lowered the sledgehammer again and again, ignoring the spray of gore following me.

The synth covered his nose and mouth with his trenchcoat.

"That wasn't exactly what I had in mind." He commented when I had finished.

Kellogg's face looked like strawberry jelly. I caught Valentine's wary gaze.

Suddenly I felt ashamed and embarrassed, "Yeah well, he shouldn't have fought me. He shouldn't have murdered my husband or stolen my baby for that matter, Nick!"

I saw a glint in the gooey matter, bending down to retrieve it.

"What's that?" Valentine moved closer, "Oh! It's a brain augmenter. We can try to hack his memories with this!"

I looked at him, dubious. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, Goodneighbor has a place called the Memory Den. We can go there and see about Shaun. Get more clue."

I rolled my hand in a teasing bow, "Clever as always Detective Valentine."

He smiled, lighting a cigarette. "Now let's get cleaned up. You got Kellogg all over you..."

I looked down at my armor. He was right, of course. My arms screamed with the exertion of swinging the sledgehammer. I had gotten so much stronger, but I wasn't a Super Mutant. I wasn't half synth or some strongman. I was just me.

"I think I'm going to regret all this in the morning, Valentine." I felt his curious gaze, though he remained silent. "I mean, I didn't just kill him. I... I went so much further than that."

He shrugged, "Well sometimes-"

"No," I spat as we worked our way to the elevator. "It didn't make me feel any better. If anything, I feel worse. I just... went so far beyond a normal response."

"Look partner," He put a hand on my shoulder as the elevator came to a stop, "what is normal? I don't like what you did, don't particularly care for murder, but if anyone deserved it, it was Kellogg. You've been through...a lot."

His hand was a reassuring weight and we stood there, him comforting me the best he could, for a while. Eventually his hand fell down my arm and he strode forward.

"Let's get going partner. To Goodneighbor." He held open the door for me, the light enhancing his silhouette, engulfing all but the smoke from his cigarette.