11/1/2287 7AM

I'm not a college student anymore. I definitely shouldn't drink like one.

11/1/2287 3PM

I just woke up now, but really wish I had died and gone to hell instead.

It looks like I'll be staying another night in the Dugout Inn after all, there's no fucking way I'm leaving like this. I'm not even getting out of this bed.

Now, I know I said this in the other entry already, but I'll reiterate here that I am not a college student and really should not be drinking vodka like it's Nuka-cola. It's true that I hadn't had a drink in a while because Shaun and all, but I feel like I died a horrible death and was brought back to life at least 10 times.

Every time I accidentally look at the light filtering through the holes on the ceiling it feels like someone is stabbing my eyeballs with a thousand incandescent needles all the way to my brain. If this is what an adult hangover feels like, then I'm giving up alcohol right away.

I don't remember much from what happened yesterday, I know I rented this room and dropped my pack here before getting a table for myself, and asking Vadim for a shot of Vodka. I'm pretty sure I cried on someone's shoulder at some point too.

Embarrassing.

I don't remember getting to my room, nor do I remember undressing and slipping into bed. For all that I know I could have drunkenly given someone a lap dance, which I have before.

Oh God. I think I'm going to be sick.

11/2/2287 6AM

My headache still hasn't totally gone away, but it's bearable now. Still, aspirin is now officially my most missed pre-war necessity. Now that I think about it I could have tried to stimpak myself, if it can mend broken bones in just a couple of hours, then it can cure my hangover too. Well, there's always next time.

I slept for 12 fucking hours. I don't remember sleeping this much since before I was pregnant with Shaun. How do they do it here in the wastes anyway? Carrying a pregnancy to term and then delivering, I mean.

For one, morning sickness must suck even more when you don't really have a choice but to eat what you have on hand, even if the smell alone will make you puke, and it's also irradiated; no maternity clothes either. It's a bit cute when the baby gets big enough for you to feel - and see - they kicking, but the novelty dies down fast, then it just kinda looks like an alien and becomes more weird than cute. Shaun was especially fond of kicking my ribs. He also liked kicking me in the bladder when it was anything else other than empty.

And what about when the baby gets too big that you just can't exist comfortably, and every position is more uncomfortable than the last and you just want them to come out already, and you also can't sleep?

What about giving birth? I don't even want to go there. I highly doubt there are any ob/gyns in the wasteland, not with a medical license at least. If there's any, they are probably just creepos that will stare at your vagina instead of actually help delivering the baby.

God how I miss holding Shaun. Playing with him, singing songs, reading a book. I miss the sound of his crying, miss giving him a bottle. I just miss him.

I miss them so much, Nate and Shaun. It feels like it just happened, but at the same time, it also feels like it's been years ago. Feels like it's so recent I'm still numb and like so long ago that the memory is hazy.

It just occurred to me that it's been 210 years. What am I really doing here? What chance do I have of finding my son when I know absolutely zero about anything and it could have happened 210 years ago? And even if I find him, and he's somehow still a 4 month old boy, what should I do next? How would I even go about keeping him safe, fed and alive? More importantly, how will I do this without my husband?

I'm such a failure. I'm sorry Nate, I'm so sorry.

11/3/2287 10AM

Today I learned about the Institute. A secluded organization that no one knows anything about.

It happened earlier today in the market, in front of everyone. A man holding his brother at gun point and being killed by Diamond City security, people reacted like it's a daily occurrence. The man killed accused his brother of being a synth, the same thing Piper is accusing the mayor of being. Now I know that synths are a creation of this Institute figure, and there's three types: one that's clearly a robot designed to somewhat resemble humans, the second type that could fool you from afar, and finally the third type that can't be told apart from a person.

Piper told me that kidnappings are commonplace here; no one knows for sure, but they are all blamed on this Institute. So the Institute kidnaps people, but it's swept under the rug, and their reasoning is "what can we do about an invisible entity?" It also makes sense that if the mayor is working for them, he'll turn a blind eye to the problem and banish – or try to - the person who is pushing the issue.

Why do I have a feeling that this Institute has something to do with my son's kidnapping? If it does, then I'm screwed and can kiss any hope of seeing my boy again goodbye.

11/5/2287 5 PM

Finally, I have a lead in my boy's kidnapping! A lot of things happened yesterday and I don't know where to begin. Piper warned me that the place I had to go to, Boston Common is a very dangerous place; people who go there don't come back, according to her. Still, she agreed to come with me for some reason. What even goes in that woman's head? "Blue don't go there it's dangerous. What? Go with you? Sure, I'll lead the way." Ah yes, she started calling me Blue, said it's because of the vault suit.

I sent Codsworth back to Sanctuary. Piper had to promise to him protect my life over all costs before he would finally leave. By the way, she was right. The trek to Park Street Station was a short, but tense one. I swear there was something trying to kill us on every corner; whether it would be ferals, muties or raiders, they were everywhere. The ferals were nastier, muties bigger and raiders better armed than any ones I've faced before. The silver lining is that I scavenged a sweet combat shotgun and a sniper rifle off two dead raiders.

Once inside the metro station, it wasn't any better. There were triggermen there, which are gangsters I guess. Fuckers all had SMGs and there were loads of them there. It was a tough fight, but at least Piper isn't useless like I thought she would be, and Dogmeat is a beast too; no wonder GSDs were used as combat dogs.

There was a vault there, 114. More people inside but we took care of them easily. Ellie's intuition was right, Nick was investigating the kidnapping of a girl by this Skinny Malone fellow, and got in serious trouble. He was being held in the vault inside a locked room, they were probably going to kill him. Mr. Valentine, by the way, he's synth. I'm a bit confused right now, while it's obvious that everyone in Diamond City hates them with a passion, Valentine is allowed a pass to live and work there, and people seem to respect and even care for him.

The girl is dead now, but so are Skinny Malone and his henchmen. And she hadn't even been kidnapped, she left with him on her own accord.

Once back in Diamond City, we went straight to business and Valentine had me recount happened that day. It wasn't nearly as easy as it was with Piper. He said my description of the man who shot Nate matched the one of a man who had stayed in Diamond City briefly, Kellogg. Mid-30s, balding, black clothing, huge scar across his face; it has to be him.

He was with a boy around 10 years old, could he be Shaun?

Valentine lead me to the house Kellogg owns, very secluded location. Both of us tried to pick the lock, but it was really strong, and there was no way we could get a spare key that late at night.

At that point we said our goodnights and went to bed with promises to get back to work first thing in the morning. I'm not sure whether or not Nick has to sleep, being a synth and all, but I was completely exhausted, and Piper didn't look much better. I didn't even change out of my jumpsuit, just took off the armor and fell asleep maybe five seconds after tucking myself in with Dogmeat by my feet.

Today I woke up feeling sick, and it was pouring rain. Everything had a slight green tint to it, Vadim said it was a radiation storm.

People that live here in the wasteland have to have a resistance to radiation that I don't. The Bobrovs and few other patrons in the inn seemed mostly unaffected by the storm, while I was feeling like it was finally my time to die.

I was informed that these radiation storms usually only last about two hours, and about two hours later the skies did begin to clear up, to my relief.

As soon as the storm was over, I did a bee-line to the mayor's office to see if a could get a copy of Kellogg's house key. McDonough's secretary, Geneva, tried to get me to talk to him to get a key. I had to try a couple of different tactics and almost resorted to the good ol' bribery, but eventually convinced her that it was important that a could search Kellogg's house in the search for my son.

Nick and Piper were already waiting by the door when I arrived with the key. After a brief search in the small house, we found a button under the desk, it opened a wall to show a hidden room. Very clever. There we found cigars, smoked by Kellogg itself; then, to my surprise, Nick declared he had worked with Dogmeat before, and that my dog could pick up Kellogg's scent from the cigars and lead us to him.

Now that our plan is settled, I'll take the rest of today off to get ready. Oh, and I bought a house. Only 2000 caps, it was almost free. I just figured that since I'm spending so much time in here anyway, might want to get settled. The Bobrovs surely will be sad they lost their best costumer and her 10 caps a day. Maybe when my house looks like an actual house, I'll even throw a housewarming party, just for Piper and Nick; after I finally have Shaun with me and all of this is dealt with.