Disclaimer: I do NOT own Fallout 4 or it's characters. The Fallout series belongs to Bethesda. This is a nonprofit fanfiction written purely for enjoyment. Enjoy.

Act I - All-American Nightmare

Chapter II

Piper's legs had melted into jelly by the time they neared their destination. She and Nick Valentine had walked for what seemed like forever. It had been a long while since either of them had said anything. Nick was the first one to break the silence.

"We're here," said Nick, placing his hand on Piper's shoulder to get her attention. When she turned she saw Nick pointing to the sky. Vultures and various scavenger birds circled the sky as if to mark their destination for them.

"That's promising," Piper grumbled to no one in particular. Whoever this new player was he sure left a wake of bodies in his trail wherever he went. Goosebumps freckled her skin as she thought what would happen if this carnage had made it's way over to Diamond City. Would security be enough to put this man down? She doubted it.

The birds didn't lie, a thick stench of death greeted the pair as they come up on what used to be a raider hot spot. The carnage started outside with dead sentries but shell casings and cadavers painted a trail inside the crippled building. Most of it had collapsed due to the original blasts but what didn't served as a makeshift fortress for this particular flavor of raider scum.

Piper brought the back of her gloved hand to her nostrils, but it wasn't enough.

"I don't envy you," remarked Nick. Not being human had its perks.

"Lucky you," Piper rolled her eyes as she squat next to a nearby corpse. Apparent cause of death was from gunshot wounds to the chest. The victims near the door looked like they meet their ends at the barrel of a shotgun, probably a sawn-off. There was no doubt that man in the corner died from a frag, an entire missing chunk of the wall supported that theory. An educated guess and blind toss, most likely. The casings switch to that of a .ten millimeter as they went deeper into the complex. "Nothing seems stolen here."

"Rules out motive." Nick lingered in the corners of the hallway, pipe revolver in hand in case someone survived. "Your boyfriend seems nice," He added after a long pause.

"My boyfriend?" A confused Piper shot back defensively.

"Uh, the vault dweller."

"First off, he's not my boyfriend," Piper rolled her eyes at her partner's statement. "He was just an interesting story. Secondly, really? This was where you wanted to do this?"

The detective peered into the nearest room. Sastified it was clear of hostiles, he moved on. "Was there somewhere else you wanted to do this?"

"Maybe on the three hour walk here, that may I remind you we were mostly silent for? Or, on the three hour walk back?"

Nick's response was a shrug of his shoulders. "Are you going to see him again?"

It was Piper's turn to shrug. "I don't know. He seemed nice."

"But?"

"He seems like he's trying too hard."

Nick scoffed in response. "I thought the problem was people in the Commonwealth didn't try hard enough."

"These people have been dead two, maybe three days," said Piper, looking to change the subject. "It looks like the Silver Shroud blew through here."

What sounded like movement in the last room halted their conversation. Instinctively, the pair held their pistols out in front of them and started to creep towards the sound. Nick Valentine was the first to enter the room, planning on using his synthetic body as a shield for the more vulnerable Piper. He immediately lowered his revolver upon entering the room. The threat wasn't a threat, not anymore at least. Slumped up against the wall was a raider on his last leg. A .ten millimeter bullet wound in either knee prevented him from fleeing.

"Thought you were him," coughed the raider. He was a younger man, probably not much older than Piper. There was nothing significant about this raider, dirty, unkempt and rather wild looking. Really a cookie cutter mold for dirty raiders, save for the dying part. His face was flush with sweat. Mangy hair clung to the sides of his face. He looked pale from the loss of blood. "Coming back to finish me off. Was gonna try to hide, but I can't," he gestured to his wounds.

"Do you know who did this to you?" Asked Nick, revolver still in hand.

"No. Wore some kind of gas mask, with a hood."

Piper shifted uncomfortably. All she wanted to was get her story and leave. "Why didn't he kill you?"

If the raider had heard the question he didn't show it. "Why are you guys after him? He kill someone you love?"

"I believe the lady asked you question," Nick waved the revolver into view of the raider.

"Because I told him what he wanted to hear."

Piper, now in full investigator mode, continued with her questions. "What was that?"

"Man," sighed the raider in annoyance. "Can't one of you get me a stimpack?"

The detective shook his head in response, saying what they all were thinking. "A stimpack isn't going to save you. It's too late."

"Then some jet," counteroffered the dying raider. Even in his dying moments he wasn't foolish enough to think that jet would save his life, but it could dull the pain. "Gas mask rounded up all of our jet and destroyed it, but I keep a hidden stash in my room."

Nick and Piper looked between each other. Words didn't have to be spoken, they could read each other's minds. Drug trade was another possible motive they could scratch off. They also both knew that he was beyond saving. It was honestly a miracle he lived this long to tell the crime solving duo his tale. He had been in pain for days, giving him something to dull the pain was the humane thing to do, other than just putting him out of his misery outright. Piper head into the direction of the room that the raider pointed to.

"You're going to have to answer our questions before you get the jet," demanded Nick. It wasn't a negotiation.

"Come on, man, it's my jet!" He didn't try to hide his frustration.

"I can wait," Nick pulled up a chair and set it down just out of reach of the raider. After lighting up a cigarette, Nick sat in the seat looking down on the raider. "Can you?"

The raider made a range of noises from grunting to groaning, but ultimately gave up. "Jet is only our front. We deal, dealt" corrected the raider, as if all of his friends laying dead around him wasn't reminder enough. "In trafficking. We sold people, no questions asked."

Nick wrinkled his nose in disgust, but he didn't interrupt.

"Girls, mostly. Doesn't matter what age. Someones always buying," he looked beyond where Piper had went, desperately awaiting for her return. "Your friend there would have made a nice-"

The detectives leg shot out from under the chair quick as viper, his foot connecting with the raider's. A jolt of pain ran up his leg. "Focus," demanded Nick in a firm voice.

"He found me trying to hide. Said he only wanted to ask me questions."

Piper had come back in the room, the jet in hand. She waited for the raider to finish his story.

"He put one in my kneecap right away, so that I knew he was serious. He wanted to know where our kept them."

"Did you tell him?" Asked Nick.

The raider's only nod was a nod of his head.

"Did he keep them?" Asked Piper.

"No," admitted the raider. "Said he was going to take them somewhere safe, wouldn't tell me where though."

Again, Nick and Piper exchanged looks and they both had the same thought on their mind: They were back to square one and with a three day headstart he could be anywhere.

"Probably a good idea," mumbled Nick to himself. This way he couldn't tell his friends where they went, if there were only left.

"Can I have my jet now?" The look of desperation was almost too much for Piper. She placed on the floor, kicking it over to him. Even in his weakest moments Piper wanted to be nowhere near a raider. The jet stopped just short of his foot.

"What are we going to do now?" asked Nick, turning away from the raider as he crawled towards the drug on the floor.

"Who do you know that has a large arsenal of firepower for sale, and knows what's going on in the Commonwealth?"

"Hancock?" Grumbled Nick, not happy with the suggestion.

"Exactly," sighed Piper. With their destination of Goodneighbor in mind they moved on, even if they didn't like it.

The day was almost over by the time Abel Cohan had arrived in Sanctuary Hills, a line of former slaves in tow. It looked like an artist with a gigantic brush painted the sky a melancholy shade of orange, a sunset Nora would have appreciated. It only seemed like yesterday that Abel would sit on the hood of his car with his beloved in his arms, and just watch the sun set on the city they loved so much. Now he didn't even recognize what two hundred years (and a nuclear blast here and there) did to it. Abel envied how Nora never had to see this, she was spared the weight of having scouring a wasteland for their baby boy.

"Halt," barked the gate guard, raising his pipe machine gun.

"It's ok," said a familiar voice from behind him. The voice belonged to their current leader, Preston Garvey. "Let them in."

The girls looked amongst themselves, fear and doubt plagued their minds. They weren't sure what the future held for them, but they were sure the group was about to find out.

"Abel," welcomed Preston. He had gone out to the bridge to personally welcome the group.

Abel Cohan removed his green combat gas mask with the hood. "Preston," he greeted back, relieved to finally be breathing air without a filter.

"What do we have here?" Preston peered behind Abel at the meek and shy group.

"Just liberated a group of slaves. I was kinda hoping that you could stay here while they figured out where they doing next," asked Abel, but it sounded more like a statement than a question, like he was telling Preston that they were going to stay there.

"They still have their collars on," remarked the gate guard. He was less enthusiastic about their situation than their leader. "Is anyone going to come looking for them?"

"I didn't leave anyone, if that's what you're asking," said Abel coldly, extending his hand out. In his hand was the detenator.

"Get that to Sturges," instructed Preston. "Follow him ladies, you'll be ok now," the leader of the Minute Men offered a sincere smile as they passed. "You're safe here."

Preston was distracted with the now liberated slaves, he used the opportunity to slip away to go visit his old house. He didn't go unnoticed though.

"This was something the Minute Men could have assisted you with," remarked Preston, who had to jog to catch up to Abel.

"It really wasn't," Abel didn't slow his pace. "We've already talked about this. They're untrained, undisciplined. They'd only get in my way."

"So show us," Preston matched his stride to Abel's. "Teach us what we don't know."

Abel stopped just in front of his old house. It would need some work, it was still mostly intact. "I can't be the General, not right now."

"We haven't touched it," Preston gestured to the house. "Per your instructions."

"I just want to be alone for a minute," Abel closed the door behind him, not waiting for a response. Broken glass crunched under his feet as he walked through his abode. He still remembered what it looked like from when it was actually his house. Now it was just a reminder that things weren't the same anymore.

Somehow Abel had found himself in what was Shaun's old room. He was hovering over his crib, peering down inside of it. A flashback flooded into his mind before Abel had a chance to reject it. And just like that it was two hundred years ago and they were happy. Abel and Nora were standing over their newborn son in his crib, watching him sleep. Abel remembered looking over at Nora who was finally discharged from the hospital. No make up, no hair done, it was the real her. She was more beautiful in that moment than Abel could ever remember. And now she was gone. Abel was alone in a shattered home, a teddy bear where Shaun was in the memory. He must have dropped it when they ran for the vault.

"They want me to be the leader, a general," Abel spoke to the teddy bear as if it were listening. His hands gripped the crib until his knuckles turned white. "But I can't. Not yet. They'll slow me down, and it's harder to track one man than an entire group." Abel reached inside the crib and pulled out the plush bear, which was surprisingly in good condition. "I'll find you Shaun, I promise. And when I do I'll give you this."

Author's Note: This is actually kind of how I played the game the first time. I couldn't find a cool helmet so I used the green combat gas mask, so I thought I'd carry it over to the fic. I didn't join the MM right away because I at first thought it was going to progress the story, and then I found it it's just relentless "another settlement needs your help". That didn't start for me until I almost finished the game. Just a little insight into my Fallout 4 experience haha. Solivore out!