John didn't know what he was most surprised by, the chaos and dirt in the vault...or the fact that he found it relatively clean compared to most places by now. He did know that the place had obviously gone down hill since he left though; tipped over tables, improvised barricades...litter! Stuff the overseer would never allow was all over the place...blatantly showing that his power was broken.

Using Amata's password to get through the door had been easy, as had it been to get past officer Armstrong. John almost smiled at the memory, the man had actually spoken to John as if he had had a choice in stopping him entering or not....it had been cute. Now he walked through oddly dark hallways, obviously shadowed by security officers...but paying them no heed. It was odd how one could change, he did not fear the security officers any more, he even found their behaviour oddly amusing.

As he came to an intersection he heard a sob to his right, turning he found a shape running away, head tucked low. A cry reaching him: "Go away!" The sound of running feet quickly faded.

Snorting John considered putting his helmet back on, but no, that would just terrify the people...which would do no good. It was odd though, he didn't feel hurt by the words so angrily thrown at him. Everyone he'd met so far seemed more or less to blame him...when they recognised him that is, yet it didn't really bother him. It wasn't really that he didn't care, rather that he understood their misplaced anger and accepted it. Who cared what they thought anyway?

Heh, wonder what Amata would say to such thoughts?

Sobering up John marched on, his feet knowing the way as they guided him towards the clinic where Armstrong had mentioned Amata and her 'rebels' were holing up. The clinic of course held quite a few memories...but John chose to push them aside.

That was quite odd as well, being able to just to push emotions and memories aside...it was a bit worrying...but he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

The stair crunched under his weight, yet even over that sound he heard someone gasp and flick a switchblade out. "Drawing a weapon like that could get you killed." The growl got another gasp out of the stranger and as John came up the stairs and turned the corner he found himself face to face with a strong looking youth with a greasy hairdo and a dusty leather jacket over his blue jumpsuit...oh you got to be... "Butch, long time no see."

"W...who..." The kid...for that's what he actually looked like...was staring at John, slack jawed and eyes wide. He seemed smaller then last time John had seen him, probably due to the extra height he'd gotten from his armour...and as dangerous as a wet tissue as his trembling hand dropped the switchblade to the floor. Had John really feared this guy once? How was that even possible? Gob seemed tougher than this guy...who still was unable to finish his sentence.

Crossing his arms in front of him John cocked his head to the side. "Who...what? I won't bite your head off, but please say what you have to say so I can go on."

"N...no one..." Butch visibly swallowed while ducking low and picking his knife back up. "...gets through without me saying so!" He cried out the last part, as if fearing his courage would fail him if he didn't speak quickly.

"That's very brave of you." John shrugged. "Foolish perhaps since the security guards have pistols and I could put you right though a wall...but brave." The way the kid shone up at his words was laughable, though John held back his smirk. Kid...weren't Butch older than him? Then again the guy had always been immature... "Now Butch, please stand aside so I can talk to Amata."

"Amata? How do you...hey how do you know my name!?" Butch squinted at him, ducking into what the boy probably thought was a combat stance...then his eyes widened and his face turned pale: "J...John?"

John sighed. "Yes. Now are you going to let me through or do I have to make a way through? Amata asked for my help and I'm a busy man who'd like to get this over with."

"Su...sure man!" Butch made a small show of putting his knife back, as if John had ever feared it...and stepped to the side. "Good to see you! Really! Hey...now that you're here maybe we can get my plan under way. Listen-"

Brushing past the kid, the small buff enough to send him sprawling to the floor, John continued on while coldly interrupting: "I'm not really interested Butch. Now excuse me." Ignoring the oddly muted insult of Butch...no doubt because he feared getting a face full of steel boot...John moved on.

There were quite a few people around the clinic, most young teens John had a vague memory of studying with in class...and all staring at him as if he was some sort of alien. It wasn't surprising, if not even Butch recognised him not many other would...and those that did recognise him were probably perplexed by his armoured appearance.

Meh, people always stared at him when he was in any town...so what difference did it do that these ones did it with a bit more of fear? Better that than the usual awe, at least this way they left him alone. Squaring his shoulder John marched past the window to the clinic, turned left...and suddenly found himself inside an all too familiar place.

Sighing he looked around himself. Despite his decision to ignore any memories they were still there...and the contrast was almost painful. Litter, dust...equipment strewn around on the floor and whatever tables that were still upright in a way his father would have never allowed... John came to a halt while struggling with a grimace about to break out, a grimace that might stir more emotions out of him...which he wouldn't allow.

Then he turned his to the sound of a sigh, finding Amata...

The woman, for she was a woman and not a child, was leaning over a table with one elbow, her free hand holding a pen and idly running it over a paper full of neat notes. Her black hair looked a little more ragged then usual and the jumpsuit wasn't the pristine cleanness she usually was so adamant about...a definite sign of things not being the way they should.

Still, it was her. "Amata?" Turning to face her John leant against the doorway, watching as she flinched, her hand with the pen freezing still. Then she looked up, those lovely brown eyes widening in...fear? Shock? It was not recognition however. Did it hurt? No...understandable, he had a picture of himself in the pip-boy, he knew he had changed. Not recognising him was forgiveable...even if it annoyed him a little.

"Holy...John?" Wow, how many times would he get that question? She flew to her feet and rushed forward, arms thrown out wide as she hurled herself at him. She winced a little under the impact of herself against John's rugged armour, but continued hugging him. Only reaching his armoured chest with her head he couldn't see her face under her dark hair, but he could tell she was crunching it up like she did when she was about to cry...he always had been able to judge that. "John! I didn't recognise you at first! Oh it's so good to see you!"

"Don't worry about it, my own father didn't either...and it's good to see you." He spoke honestly, surprising himself. It was good to see her, he had expected it to be painful or difficult in some manner, but seeing her just made him feel...perhaps a little younger.

"Oh yes...your father." Amata, somewhat reluctantly, pulled away and looked back up at him, her cheeks stained by a few tears. She was smiling though. "How is he? You found him?"

"Dead...and yes I found him."

"Oh..." Amata withdrew, looking awfully small as she glanced up at John in sudden fear. "I'm sorry."

"He died well, for what he believed in, can't ask for more then that." John answered neutrally and shrugged. It was a painful memory...seeing his father melt and bleed through his skin...but at the same time he had come to terms with it. He had seen many people die by now...and his father's had actually been one of the better, for he had died for something. How many others died uselessly? Doing nothing? What did it matter how you died...when the why was far more important? Would Amata understand that? "You called...I'm here."

"Right...well...yes...I called..." She suddenly seemed hesitant, rubbing her shoulders in the way she always did when she was anxious or confused. Then she looked up at John with pleading eyes. "Can't....can't that wait though? W...we haven't talked for such a long time, I miss that." She placed a hand on John's steel-clad arm. "Please?"

John frowned. He was tempted...if nothing else but to revive old memories and remember how it had once was. But...yes...but...he had responsibilities, and those would not wait just because he felt like chatting away a few hours or even days. "I do not have the time for that I'm afraid." The pleading look turned into a confused one...her eyes narrowing as she suddenly scrutinised him with new eyes. "Now, what help do your require?"

"You...you've changed." Amata spoke in that tone that John had never been able to understand. "Not just the face and..." She gestured at his body. "...and all things...but something else too...haven't you?"

"I suppose I have, but I'm still John, and I'm still here to help you." John shrugged. It was difficult to think of it, his old self seemed a lifetime away...something tucked away in the back of his mind, if it even existed anymore...he couldn't bring himself to miss that part though. He had grown away from that. "Now are you going to tell me what the problem is?"

Amata pulled back, an offended look turning to one of sadness. "I...I...I understand." She lowered her head, the hand on his arm coming to rest on his armoured chest. Why did she look so...defeated? "I guess...I guess it's all business then?" Eh? Why did she sound so unhappy about it?Wasn't that the reason for calling him? Gods women were odd...

Sighing John muttered: "That's an odd question. I'm only here because I care." That made her look up, a hesitant smile on her lips. "And since I care about...all this..." He gestured at the chaos and dirty teens still staring at him. "...I want to get to the business of resolving whatever crisis seems to have struck this place."

"Ha! You have changed!" Amata suddenly laughed. "Gotten a bit eloquent even...maybe they are civilised out there!"

"Depends on who the they are." John muttered, then shot Amata what he thought was a neutral look...but which got her to duck back with fear in her eyes. "Now, what is going on here? Don't make me ask Butch..."

Amata took a deep breath and pushed a rogue strand of hair out of her face, looking oddly assertive while still giving John an odd look. "Right, well ever since you and father left we haven't had a doctor...and with my father clamping down on everything....people sort of wondered if the vault thing was doomed to fail. We wanted to open the door, explore a little...not have the vault wither away to nothing as it is now. But with father-"

John nodded, understanding the problem. "I can fix this."

"Yo...you won't..." She eyed the magnum and sword on John's hips. "He's still-"

She visibly froze when John grabbed her by the shoulders, forcing her to look back at her as he calmly said: "Don't worry, I will fix this...trust me."

"O...okay." She nodded stiffly, eyes wide with...wonder?

Shrugging John turned to march to the overseer's office, why was people acting so oddly nowadays?