Before Verrah, resided the fallout. A barren landscape filled with dead trees, gnarly underbrush, and very little variety in color. The sky even seemed to be a different shade of blue. Everything was bland, dreary. And dirt. Lots of dirt. Rusted remains of the bustle from the day the bombs fell were scattered.

She turned to the broken fence that had kept so many people away. Skeletons littered the ground.

There were still no signs of life. The air was silent. She sighed. Not even any animals called.

Her jaw set. Then her eyes widened. She could see her old neighborhood from this vantage point. Though, what she saw didn't look good. She took off down the hill. Suddenly overcome with concern for her household robot. Overcome with the fact that he could have been destroyed.

Tearing through the bare, wooded shortcut, she deftly avoided rocks and fallen trees. This wasn't the first time she had run through these woods. All she could think of was Codsworth. Not Codsworth. But who would've taken care of him if he malfunctioned? Kept him oiled and polished? Listened to him carry on about what he saw on TV or heard on the radio? He couldn't be gone.

But at the same time, he very well could be.

She exploded from the trees. Hung a right. Her boots crunched on the pitted road. She slowed to a walk when she came to the bridge. What was left of the bridge, rather. Cautiously, she stepped into what was supposed to have been the perfect subdivision on the hill. A perfect sanctuary away from life. She swallowed. All the houses were nearly destroyed.

The road took her up and slightly right. Her house was halfway up on the left. Her lips pressed together. What had been a nice home for a single woman was falling apart. However, it was in slightly better condition than the others. That great House of Tomorrow. Her beloved car still sat under the carport, rusted and unsalvageable.

A deep breath escaped her as she went inside. Stood in the middle of the living room. Making a circle to take everything in, tears brimmed her eyes. She put a hand over her mouth. Dared to venture through the rest. Everything was destroyed. Bathroom, laundry room, office, and bedroom. She kept her hand over her mouth as she returned to the kitchen. The calendar still hung on the side of the fridge.

On the month of October.

It was seeing the circled date of her parents' anniversary that pushed her over the edge. She couldn't dam the tears any longer. Trotting out of the house, she sunk the front porch step. What did she expect? For everything to be exactly the same? A nuclear bomb had fallen for crying out loud!

She just didn't expect the reality to hit her so hard. Her head buried in her arms. She was all alone.

"Hello, Mum!" It was the pleasant British accent of a Mr. Handy.

Verrah slowly lifted her head up. Tears streaking her face. "Codsworth?" She ran to him in the middle of the road, hugging as much of his round body as she could. "You almost gave me a heart attack."

"Ah, it really is you. I almost didn't recognize you with your hair colored so."

She frowned. "My hair?" Then she ran back inside to the bathroom mirror. It wasn't a clear reflection, but she could make out that her once dirty blonde hair had been turned pure white with a wide, lime green streak going down the middle of her head and ponytail.

Her mouth opened. Closed. "Well." Her head slightly tilted. Did this have to do with the experiments the Vault had been conducting? Did it have to do with any mystical properties? She smiled for the sake of the Mr. Handy that had hovered in after her. "I've always wanted to do something to my hair. I can dig it."

"I'm just happy you're finally home." He backed into the living room. "I must say it has been rather dreary. I've kept house to the best of my abilities."

"Codsworth."

"Do you know how hard it is to vacuum radiation out of the carpet? Not to mention there's a gaping hole in the roof. And you can only polish rust so much."

"Codsworth—"

"But I can do more than polishing! A raider or two have kept me company. I've been protecting Sanctuary Hills. I was so worried when you didn't return. I knew you were safe, but I thought you would've returned sooner. Well, now you have. My patience for 200 years has paid off. That's all that matters, I suppose."

Verrah chuckled at his ramblings. Then blanked as his words set in. "Did you…did you say 200 years?"

The Mr. Handy slightly bounced up and down. His way of nodding. "Two hundred and ten years to be exact."

Rubbing her temple with the heel of her palm, she dropped onto the deteriorating couch. "What on Earth? That long? Are you sure?"

"Yes, Mum."

"Wow. Um, okay?" She shook her head. "Has anyone else come from the Vault?"

"No, Mum."

She sighed. "Didn't think so. Everyone was pretty much dead in there. Wait." Her eyes lifted as she rose. "You mentioned raiders. So, I'm not the only human left?"

"Of course not." He hovered to the kitchen. Pulled open the cabinets. "There are many settlements. Especially the closer you get to Boston. I've been storing food for you. Unfortunately, it's not much. Only Cram and Mac 'N' Cheese. Would you like some?"

"No, thanks. I'm not exactly hungry right now."

"Very well, Mum. Is there anything I can do for you?"

Taking a deep breath, she rubbed her hands together. "Have you heard anything about my parents? Since that day? Any word?"

Codsworth's tone softened, and his arms drooped a little. "No, Mum. I'm sorry. But chin up! If you can survive, I'm sure they can, too."

She offered a smile. Hugged him again. "I always knew I could rely on you for support."

"There is a man I heard about on the radio. His name is Detective Nick Valentine. He might be able to help you find your parents. He's famous."

Her head slightly nodded in thought. "Maybe I could seek him out. Where is he?"

The household robot went about polishing the refrigerator as he answered. "Diamond City."

"Diamond City? Where is that?"

"Why, it's in the old Fenway Park Stadium."

She mused for a few moments. "I mean…" Sighing, she paced the living room and kitchen. She highly doubted they were alive. Wasn't even getting her hopes up on that one. Two hundred and ten years was well beyond normal life expectancy. Not to mention the war. On the other hand, it would give her something to do. Also see more of this new world.

"Mum?"

"You know what? I think I will look this Detective Valentine up." She finally stood still and rubbed her arms. Yes, she was twenty four—or was she now 234?—but her parents meant a lot to her. They were all she had outside of Codsworth. "Thanks, Cods."

"You're welcome, Mum. You're handy with machinery. Do you have any idea how to get this rust out?"

Verrah chuckled. "I'm afraid the fallout is probably there to stay." Then she slightly turned away. Inhaled deeply as she looked out the front window. Two hundred and ten years? How in the world was she still alive? And how did her hair drastically change colors? Nothing made any sense.

The Mr. Handy hovered over. Paused at his owner's silence. And unusually depressed behavior. She seemed distressed, despite the good news she was still alive and returned home. His three eyes adjusted. "Is everything alright?"

Another deep breath escaped her. "I'm not sure. It's quite a bit to take in."

"How soon would you like to leave? If you're leaving, that is."

Biting her lip, she glanced over her shoulder at him.