Allen was singing again.
"In Mullingar last night I rested limbs so weary -"
Nick and Piper were waiting with Allen for the Minutemen lieutenants.
"Started by daylight, next morning bright and early -"
Piper was trying to read the room, mostly since Nick was treating Allen differently and she wanted to figure out why.
"Took a drop of the pure to keep my heart from sinking -"
The detective didn't even seem annoyed that Allen was singing.
"That's the Paddy's cure when she's on the drinking, see the lassies smile, laughing all the while."
Piper couldn't do it. She decided to interrupt.
"You know, if you like music so much you could always turn on the radio."
Allen paused mid verse. Casually, he said, "You know, I don't actually like music all that much."
"How can you not like music?" Nick asked, equally at ease. Allen shrugged and scratched the back of his head.
"No clue."
"I think we're missing the important question here," Piper said, perking up. "If you don't like music, why do you sing?"
"A trick my old man taught me." Allen answered, sitting down and starting to fiddle with his pipboy.
"And that trick was?" Piper prodded, despite feeling as though it would be a pointless exercise.
"Pops owned a restaurant," Allen explained, surprising the reporter, "Every now and again, I'd work there to pick up some extra cash, and every now and again shit got busy."
"Waiting for this to relate to singing," Nick joked with a half-smile.
"Well, he taught me that in those situations, the most important thing was to stay calm and focus, and that the best way to do that was to pick up a habit."
"A habit?" Piper asked, finally having recovered from her shock at actually getting something personal out of the man.
"Yeah, something that you do to calm yourself down. Pops snapped. At first he snapped as a way of thinking about something other than whatever was making him panic, then eventually snapping made him not panic."
"Okay," Piper said, trying to follow along, "But why do you sing?"
"Like I told Danse, my squad used to sing these shanties when in transit," Allen explained, seemingly having found what he was looking for, as classical music started to pour gently from his Pipboy.
"Wait," Nick suddenly interjected. "You said he did it to calm down."
"Yes," Allen said, confused.
"Something stressing you out?" Nick asked.
"Well I've got all these plans about throwing my lot in with the Railroad." Allen motioned around the room. "But…look at all this shit. I'm the General of the Minutemen," Allen suddenly gestured to his Pipboy, "And look at this shit." He brought up a list. "Different jobs and obligations I've left hanging - find green paint for Abbot, clear Boston public library of super mutants, find out if the Cabot house is what I think it is. To name a few."
"Seems like you've got a bit of a full ledger to be joining the Railroad," Nick observed.
"Eh," Allen shrugged, "I've got a month to clear out as much of this as I can."
"Is a month long enough?" Piper asked, concerned that Allen might fall back into old habits.
"Could be," Allen stood up and stretched, "Guess we're going to have to find out."
To say that the mood was somber would be an understatement.
"So I've got good news and bad news." Allen started. His lieutenants listened dutifully. Piper and Nick had left the room before the meeting; they were polite like that.
"Good news first." Sam interrupted.
"Sam!" Nancy snapped.
"It numbs the pain." Sam said overly dramatically.
Montgomery hissed, "Don't interrupt."
"The good news," Allen said, cutting everyone off, "Is that I've found a way of taking the fight to the Institute without involving the Brotherhood."
"Does this mean we're starting an offensive?" Nancy asked. "Because I've done a lot of thinking and that's starting to seem like a bad idea."
"No," Allen answered.
"What's the bad news?" Montgomery asked, trying to stay on point.
"It's going to require me being away from my post for the foreseeable future." The lieutenants all reacted differently. Sam snapped his head up and squinted, almost as if his eyes were what heard Allen and he needed visual proof of what had been said. A look of pure dejection crossed Nancy's face, and Montgomery was emotionless. Preston was the only one to actually say anything.
"General, what!?" He probably would have said more, but he seemed to cut himself off. He likely didn't have the words.
"For security purposes I can't tell anyone anything." Allen continued, "I don't plan on abandoning the Minutemen, but the next step is up to you four."
"What step is that, sir?" Montgomery asked.
"Either I step down as general permanently, or just assign one of you as acting general."
"All in favor of the second one?" Montgomery requested, skipping to the likely verdict.
Four hands were raised.
"So who's it going to be, General?" Nancy asked, trying to be professional.
Allen had planned for this. In fact, there were very few things Allen hadn't planned on. He had a contingency plan for most series of events.
"Lieutenant Richard Montgomery?" Allen addressed.
"Yes sir," Montgomery said standing at attention.
"Do you accept the role as acting General?"
"Yes sir."
"Thank you." Montgomery tilted his head at that, but didn't say anything for a long moment. Finally, his first order was a simple, "Meeting adjourned."
Everyone was leaving but Allen grabbed Preston's shoulder, stopping him cold.
"We should talk."
Allen and Preston were pacing the lengths of the ramparts. It seemed like every other important conversation happened there.
They hadn't said a word to each other for minutes.
"I'm sorry." Allen suddenly said.
"What for?" Preston asked sarcastically. "For abandoning the Minutemen when we need you most?"
"I'm not abandoning anyone." Allen defended.
"You're off to god knows where and leaving an acting general in your absence. Being a general isn't something you can do from a distance."
"Preston," Allen started, dejected.
"What, General, what is it?" Preston snapped.
Suddenly, Allen snapped too.
"I never wanted this!" Allen practically shouted, throwing his hands into the air. "I was in the Commonwealth for maybe a day and half. I was lost, alone, with barely enough ammo to kill a radroach."
He started to pace. "Then I found you, someone as desperate as I was, and I thought, 'I'm saved.' A Minuteman, a lawman, someone who can help. Turns out you were as fucked as I was."
"So why'd you help?" Preston demanded, "Why did you help if you were so disappointed?"
"I don't know," Allen replied honestly, "Instinct, nature, maybe I thought that people with fucked up situations should stick together."
"So what now? You've made better friends so you're just going to walk away?"
"Never." Allen said, so vehemently it gave Preston pause. "Never, not with the Minutemen." His voice softened, "Look Preston, maybe my motives have never been the best but know this - all I've ever done was to help. I may be a selfish bastard for wanting Shaun back more than helping the Minutemen," Preston flinched at that, "But I would never betray my people, never abandon something like this."
Preston sighed, and nodded. "I believe you."
"Really?" Allen asked, so obviously confused it almost made Preston laugh.
"You gave us back the Castle, the artillery, and unified much of the Commonwealth. If you're saying this path of yours is what's best." Preston shrugged. "Who am I to argue?"
"The best damn man the Minutemen have to offer." Allen said, extending his hand.
"Thanks, General." Preston said, shaking Allen's hand.
Life was simple to Preston. Lives needed saving, Raiders needed killing, Minutemen needed rebuilding…even without the General leading the charge.
Life was simple, but not necessarily easy.
Allen was leaving the Castle, with Nick and Piper in tow, when Sam approached him.
"Hey, General!" He called, jogging a little to catch up.
"Yes, Sam?"
"Got a Geiger counter?" Sam asked. Most people would see a casual request, but Allen noticed an air of severity.
"Got one in my Pipboy" Allen said raising his arm. "But none to spare, why?"
"Got a job with the boys that takes us a near an irradiated area," Sam explained, "I'm trying to find out if I need hazmat suits or RadX."
"Go with the suits," Allen recommended. "If something delays you then at least the suits won't wear off."
"Thanks, boss." Sam said before taking off.
"Do they usually come to you with requests like that?" Piper asked.
"Usually they go to Shaw for requisitions," Allen explained. "But for more expensive things they need clearance from on high."
"Shouldn't he have gone to Montgomery then?"
"I'm still a General, just one from far away."
Allen did have to admit though, Sam had seemed weirdly invested in that Geiger counter.