Ch.3 Picking up the trail

-Writer's note: As you may have already noticed I've increased the size and population of the game world. I had to do this for realistic reasons. If the most heavily populated area in the Capital Wastes (Rivet City) only housed a few dozen people then there wouldn't be enough people to last more than one more generation. Also the size of the Wastes was increased for obvious reasons. If the trip from Washington D.C to the other side of the Wasteland only took half an hour this wouldn't be a very long story. That's all from me for now!-

A voice woke him from his pained slumber. They were speaking outside of the room in which he'd been left, but the words escaped him. His eyes pried open slowly and met the dim flicker of old florescent bulbs above him. He was stretched out on a hospital cot in a small and disorganized room. The rusty metal walls gave away his location as Megaton. That meant somebody had brought him to the little clinic the town kept near the entrance. But how had he... Chris groaned as the memory came back.

"If I loose my son because of you..."

So the one eyed man from the bar and Simms had saved his life. Chris wasn't sure if that was something to be grateful for or cause for dread. No one did anything for free in the Wastes, and a saved life was one hell of a debt to pay. But more important than his newly acquired debt was the matter of Chevron... and Abigale. His teeth clicked together painfully in response to the sudden flood of anger. That bastard had betrayed him and tried to kill him, but the anger was mostly reserved for himself. He should have known Chevron would find out about the supposedly dead androids.

He sighed and looked down at his body to assess the damage and get his mind away from the thought clouding anger. He was shirtless but wrapped in bandages in all the places his shirt would have covered anyway. His pants were worse for wear but remained where they belonged. Looking to the chair beside his cot he found what was left of his shirt, and gladly enough found his coat undamaged.

"So you're awake," Chris looked away from the chair and sized up his newly arrived company. Chris was joined by an old and pissed off looking man. He hauled himself into a sitting position with a grunt, finding the pain he'd expected all along in his chest. The old man (his name was Church, Chris remembered from his time buying supplies) noticed the grimace and nodded his head. "That's going to give you some trouble for a few days," He sounded angry, Chris didn't care to figure out why.

"Where are the two who brought me here?" Chris croaked, his throat surprisingly raw. Instead of answering straight away Doc Church handed him an open bottle of water and continued glaring at him until he'd taken a few careful gulps. His throat cried for more of the soothing liquid but Chris set it down beside him and returned his eyes to Church.

"They went to get supplies," Chris was starting to get up before the old doctor blocked his path and pushed him firmly back to the cot. "And the Sheriff told me to let you know bad things were going to happen if you left this clinic without his permission," Chris almost laughed but his aching chest prevented it.

"Bad things hu?" Chris smirked and settled himself back into the cot. Church nodded his agreement and took a seat next to the cot, brushing Chris's cloths onto the floor carelessly. He withheld an angered comment and picked the coat off the floor, draping it over his shoulders despite the lack of a shirt.

"Near as I can tell you're helping Simms find his son, aren't you?" Chris sighed and massaged the base of his nose tiredly.

"Looks like it," The thought didn't appeal to him, but he needed help getting to Chevron. And those kids didn't stand a chance in Paradise Falls. It wasn't the kind of thing Chris would have given a moment of consideration to before he'd met her. The realization that he was changing troubled him deeply but he let the train of thought drop for another time.

"Well I hope you find him," Chris opened his eyes, almost startled by the grouchy doctor's change in tone. "Harden used to come and visit me at work, he's a good kid. So is Creel's little girl." He waited for Church to finish but that was all that came.

"Why are you telling me this?" Chris was getting angry, which happened often when he was forced to acknowledge the plight of others. It wasn't a rational reaction he knew, but it was there and he couldn't change that.

"Just thought you should know, that's all..." He sounded almost disappointed with Chris. Church stood with a crack of his back and left Chris alone in the rusty room. Chris waited a moment after the door closed before laying back down on the cot.

"What to do, what to do..." He whispered to the ceiling. If it had an answer it chose not to share with him.

-()-

Lucas Simms and Billy Creel had been waiting for over half an hour before his temper began to slip. The Craterside Supply was the best place in town to go shopping for equipment of almost any kind, if you could put up with the eccentric owner.

"We need to get moving as soon as possible," Simms repeated for the third time, tapping his finger against the counter of the shop irritably. Moira Brown the owner of the Craterside Supply, stopped rifling through the locker long enough to answer.

"Just a minute," She excused herself cheerfully. "I know I have some canteens sitting around here somewhere!" As she finished a large box of odds and ends fall from the top shelf and nearly landed on her head. If she noticed she gave no hint, only went back to searching. Billy glanced sidelong at the guard who Moira had hired to protect the shop, who rolled his eyes knowingly.

"If you don't have any it's fine, we'll find some bottles to carry water in," Billy suggested after a few more minutes of fruitless searching on Moira's part.

"Gee, I'm sorry guys, I could have sworn I had some leftover canteens from my oil recycling experiment," She sounded as close to disappointed as her upbeat tone ever reached, which wasn't much.

"So, uh." Billy added with a frown. "Those canteens had oil in them?" Moira nodded happily and re closed the locker. "Maybe it's for the best we didn't find them."

"That's all for us then, stay safe Miss Brown." Simms told her before hoisting his newly filled pack.

"Why thank you Mr. Sheriff!" Moira returned heartily. Billy smiled to himself at the sight of such a happy woman in the Wastes, a rare thing indeed. But they really had wasted too much time already he knew. Billy picked up his pack and joined Simms at the door.

"Pleasant trails Moira," Billy bade her farewell as they went into the midday heat. Her answer was cut off by the closing of the door behind them.

"On to business," Simms spoke solemnly, starring down the walkway to the town clinic.

"Yep," Billy answered, trying to sound happy about it.

-()-

Chris stretched slowly in the new shirt and pants Church had grudgingly supplied him with. They were the same simple white shirt and large pocketed set he wore himself, as did most Wasteland doctors. Once he was satisfied that they fit well enough he placed his old coat over them and replaced his now partially burnt hat on his head.

As he went through the motions Chris took stock of his body's recovery, which was surprisingly far along for one day. Church had told him they'd pumped him with enough Stimpacks to kill a Behemoth just to keep him alive when he was brought in. Now that his life was no longer in danger it looked like they were going to work on his body double time. By the time his clothes were properly in place there were only a few bruises and shallow cuts to cover.

"You finished yet?" Church shouted from the desk at the front of the clinic. Chris ignored the question and gave himself one last look over before joining the crotchety old man in the front room. Church's eyed flicked up to Chris briefly and returned to his clip board without any noticeable feeling.

"Know when they'll be back?" Chris asked idly, taking a seat across from him.

"Nope," Church answered without looking up. Chris's eye twitched in annoyance. Saving his life or not, Chris decided, he didn't like that man. As if he'd read his mind Church snorted a laugh and flipped to the next page on his board.

"Anything to drink in this place?" Chris asked, changing tactics suddenly. Anger management always had been one of his major issues and he couldn't take much more of the old Doctor's sour demeanor. Church looked up from his papers now and sighed irritably. Instead of an answer he brought a dusty bottle and two shot glasses out of his desk, leaving his clip board for another time. Chris gave a curt nod of his head and took the glass of sweet smelling whiskey. One thing he'd learned in his years out in the Wastes was that if one thing can bring people together it was alcohol.

"Cheers," Church toasted him with more than a little irony. Chris smirked and clinked glasses with him before downing the fiery concoction in one gulp. Church did the same and blew out a wheezy breath with wide opened eyes.

"Good stuff," Chris chuckled as the doctor refilled his glass. Church gave a little smirk in return and threw back the second shot, grimacing.

"Should be," Church told him after another two shots. "Cost me fifty caps from the trade caravan," His typically grim tone fading away under the soothing burn of the alcohol. It probably wasn't a good idea to get loaded before heading out, Chris knew, but at the same time... what the hell. By the sixth shot he couldn't remember why he was mad to begin with and by his seventh he was having a great time!

So they drank and talked, more the first than the second though. It felt good to just relax, he hadn't relaxed in such a very long time. Maybe he deserved a little break, Chris thought through the mind numbing haze. He wasn't sure what the brand of Whiskey was, but he'd keep an eye out for it from now on.

Finally Church dropped the empty bottle into the wast bin and slumped in his seat contentedly. Chris was nodding off happily in his chair, letting the pleasant buzz take away bitter memories for a while. He had fallen asleep within a few minutes without ever being aware that he was sleepy. Church joined him in slumber with his head against the desk, a string of drool soaking into his papers.

-()-

"What in the Hell am I looking at?" Simms growled in the doorway of the clinic, an amused Billy laughing behind him. The mercenary and Doc Church were passed out in his desk room, both reeking of booze.

"A good time?" Billy answered, stepping in behind him and letting the door slam close with a bang. Carrington bolted up from his chair with a bleary eyed glare. Church remained asleep. rolling his head to the other side and spreading the large puddle that had grown on his desk.

"Have you forgotten why we're in a hurry?" Simms barked at Billy, ignoring the now fully awakened Carrington. Billy's smile vanished instantly, in its place a scowl.

"Don't think being an asshole will help us get the kids back any faster Lucas," He muttered defensively. It wasn't that he'd forgotten, he had learned to find the light side of things after many hard years in a very grim world. If he hadn't learned to take a joke he would have gone mad out there amongst all the horror and killing of thr Wastes.

"So we're going after Chevron then?" Chris asked without really making it a question. Billy frowned thoughtfully at the clear and purposeful tone the man had summoned, alcohol must not affect him like it did Billy. He wouldn't be forming complete sentences yet if he'd drank as much as he suspected they had. None the less Carrington's icy blue eyes took in everything around him with silent calculation, it made Billy want to shiver.

"You have any supplies?" Simms asked gruffly, looking Carrington up and down with open distaste.

"Hid them in a broken down house in Springvale before I went to meet with Chevron," Carrington had the same no nonsense kind of tone as Simms, Billy noticed with dread. This was going to be a long trip with those two for company.

"I don't trust you," Simms said bluntly, both men's eyes meeting unflinchingly. It was the kind of look people gave right before duels started, Billy thought nervously.

"Fair enough," Carrington answered, his voice held an edge now.

"As far as I'm concerned that man wouldn't have been anywhere near my town if you hadn't been here," Billy sighed, he knew where this was going and it wouldn't remain civil much longer if he was right. But Carrington remained silent and unreadable. "But you help me find my son without any bullshit and I'll say we're good," Simms finished, taking a surprisingly diplomatic turn.

"Fair enough," Carrington repeated, with the same hostile edge. Not exactly the easiest pair to get along with in the world, Billy thought.

-()-

They left the clinic without waking Church, heading to the gates Simms had parted the company of the Lone Wanderer at only a day before. There was no fanfare this time around, no cheering masses for the departing men. They didn't say a word to each other as they climbed the steep dirt path through the center of the town, an icy silence separating them. It was just as well Chris thought, he didn't plan on staying with these two any longer than necessary. And the lack of speaking made it a bit easier to hide the headache he was getting from the drink, which he had now concluded was a bad idea.

Simms took a position ahead of Chris and Billy, probably thinking himself a natural leader Chris assumed. they reached the gates and Simms stopped short of the opening mechanism, raising a hand to halt them without explanation. Chris scowled, taking orders wasn't his kind of thing.

"Are we leaving today or not?" He asked in a growl. Simms turned back to them and looked at Chris with something close to amusement.

"Can't leave just yet," He told them calmly. When it became clear he had not intention of finishing the statement Chris spoke up again.

"And that would be because?" He was quickly getting tired of the old Sheriff, and they hadn't even gotten started on the journey.

"My replacement isn't here yet," Simms answered and Chris got the distinct feeling the old man was enjoying toying with him. His next comment was cut off by the rumbling grate of the gate opening behind Simms back. If Chris had been carrying a gun he would have drawn it on the spot, but barring that he spat a curse and resisted the urge to back away from the towering figure that emerged from the entrance.

"It is good to see you again Mr. Simms," The Super Mutant greeted Simms, who shook his massive hand casually. Chris blinked, his mind trying to catch up with what the hell was going on. First thing was first, there was a damn Super Mutant standing in Megaton! Second nobody seemed surprised but him. And third the god damned Sheriff was grinning as him like it was all a joke!

"And you too Fawkes," Simms returned the greeting without breaking his nerve grating look at Chris. Next the Super Mutant in the tattered blue jumpsuit greeted Billy, who returned it with the same calm as Simms, though without the malice he had aimed at Chris. Chris stifled a shiver as the monster finally came to him, reaching a hand in greeting that was alost as big as Chris's head.

"You must be Mr. Carrington," The Super Mutant spoke with a level of sophistication hampered only slightly by the gravely voice it came from. His whole hand was enveloped by the thing's as it shook gently, an experience Chris hoped never to repeat. But at least the surprise had faded away. He'd heard something about a tame Super Mutant following the Lone Wanderer at times throughout his many exploits. Personally Chris had thought it a bit of fable added to the truth for flavor. "Mr. Simms has informed me of your less than fortunate situation, and requested my assistance in maintaining law and order during his absence."

"Good luck," Chris returned his hand to his side, letting his default impoliteness cover his unease at the proximity of the legendary Mutant. If Fawkes was bothered by the comment he showed no sign, which almost annoyed Chris.

"And good luck to you on your hunt," Fawkes gave a little bow and turned back to Simms. "Rest assured your town will come to no harm under my watch," He reasured the Sheriff in his strangely inhuman voice. Simms gave a small grin and patted Fawkes on the upper arm, not being able to reach the tall Mutant's shoulder.

"I trust you Fawkes," He had to look straight up to talk to Fawkes face to face, which made Chris smirk. "You and the Vault kid have more than earned it," They filed past the giant after a few more pleasantries were passed ignored by Chriss. Billy stopped to wave a farewell to the closing gates of Megaton behind them. Simms gave a nod of his head. Chris merely looked back at the town with a frown and kept walking. They had business to take care of, and he wouldn't miss the place.

-Writer's note: Sorry for the many fragments this chapter came in, it won't happen again (I think). This chapter was the set up for the beginning of the "journey" and thus the beginning of the actual plot. I separate the changing of the central point of view with the segments and this chapter required a brief take on each man's state of mind before the departure. So from now on look forward to only having one or two central character views per chapter. And thanks for reading this far!-