AN: Hey guys, Roach99 here with another story to introduce. Inspired by many works that have been made across both the RWBY and Fallout fandoms.

Welcome to Sand and Steel. As a fan of both RWBY and Fallout, I was struck with inspiration to write this story, hoping that it will be a success.

Obviously from the subject in regards to the protagonists, the lore to both Fallout 3 and New Vegas will be slightly altered.

Alright, Author's Notes out of the way, enjoy!

I do not own Fallout or RWBY

"I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end. I will give unto him that is athirst of the fountain of the water of life, freely."

-Revelation 21:6.

Chapter 1: The Alpha

/Dear J,

It's been six years since you left the Capital Wasteland and I still haven't heard from you after all these years. After we left the Vault, after all we had been through, after all that we've sacrificed, you just up and leave? I still don't understand why you left. Sure, you had explained to me that this place was not 'ready' for you and that you were meant for something bigger, but even now, you left without so much as a goodbye.

Was this about your age-old grudge that you held towards me? Sorry, I just have to ask. I'm writing this to you in hopes that you can receive this message and at least return one to me as well, so I can at least see how you're doing.

Anyway, since I'm writing this to you, I might as well tell you how much has changed since you left. The Capital Wasteland has been booming now that Project Purity is in effect, hopefully that means that Mickey can stop asking if I have any water to spare.

The Brotherhood of Steel has been working on something at the Air Force Base. They try their best to keep it covered up and away from the public, but from what I can tell, it's big, very big. The Enclave is all but wiped off from the face of DC with the help of an orbital strike to the Adams Air Force Base. Super Mutant populations are dwindling, though some unlucky bastards end up being transformed by the survivors in Vault 87 anyway.

Megaton is still functioning like a normal city, albeit with a dead bomb in the center, thanks to the both of us disarming it. I can't imagine the Wasteland without Megaton... lots of good memories there. Hah, I remember that time you tried to sleep with Nova while you were drunk for the first time, Gob ended up tossing you out and you ended up sleeping at my place with Wadsworth to look after you; good times.

Speaking of Megaton, I think Jericho misses you, but he's just not showing it. I wonder if he travels with me just because I was the only thing that reminded him of you. As for Clover... well, let's just say that she's certainly waiting for you. Honestly, I don't know how you ended up with them of all people as your friends. Not that I'm judging, but I find it a little strange, yet unsurprising, that Jericho took an interest in you the moment you walked into Mortiarty's Saloon.

And on the subject of good times, Three Dog is still the DJ for Galaxy News Radio, spouting his long-winded speeches of fighting the Good Fight. Spreading the word and deeds of the Wanderers across the eastern coasts of old Washington DC. Even while your gone, he still plays his recordings of your accomplishments as well. The man means good and I can tell that he's enthusiastic about his work, seeing as the both of us stopped the Enclave while helping others along the way.

As for the others, Fawkes wished you well as soon as he heard the news, hoping that you'd 'find yourself on the right path once more'; Cross hasn't said anything about you yet, I don't think she even cares; Charon has no opinion whatsoever, still hanging around Underworld and whatnot; Butch still holds a bit of grudge for that prank you pulled ten years ago; RL-3 is convinced that you are fighting a war against Communism in China with nothing but a pair of military fatigue pants, jungle paint, and a gatling laser; and Dogmeat? Well, he actually misses you, he curls up around your old Vault 101 jumpsuit sometimes with Dogmeat Junior beside him.

Forgive me for sounding too cheesy, but I miss you too. I wonder what's become of you, why you aren't responding to the messages I send. So I just ask this once, please write back to me.

-Your brother, James August Jr./

-oOo-

James looked up at the message that he had typed out on the black terminal before him, the bright green letters sprawled across the screen. He typed in a few commands before removing a holodisk from the terminal before getting up from his chair and walking over to a deactivated Enclave Eyebot, the dull grey frame that made up the robot was covered in nicks, dents, and many other forms of damage and dilapidation.

Trying to recover one of these was tough, especially when they turn hostile should you try to mess with their inner workings. But hey, it was still in working condition.

Materializing a screwdriver from his Pip-Boy, he carefully unscrewed the back frame before getting to work on both it and the holodisk in his hand. James had done this numerous times before, but he couldn't afford to be sloppy, he never could.

[Repair 100] In only a matter of minutes, James managed to install the disk into the eyebot. With the press of a button, he activated the small spherical machine, watching as it sparked with electricity for a second before coming to life, floating as it awaited it's first order.

"Well, that seems to work," he said in a course voice, "Designated Eyebot 01-CF73."

The Eyebot snapped to attention as it heard it's designation, still awaiting it's orders. James walked down the stairs and over to the entrance of his house, opening it, "Repeat installed message."

There was a soft whirring noise, followed by a series of clicks, "Dear J, it's been six years since-"

"Pause message, reset," James ordered, nodding in content as the message seemingly played without any errors in the first few seconds.

"Begin courier protocols D932 to coordinates 36.1699 North, 115.1398 West," he gave the eyebot it's final order, watching as it paused for a split-second before floating out the door, through the twisted walkways that made up Megaton, and out the exit as another set of drifters began to enter through the doors, eager to trade their caps for either anything brown in Moriarty's Saloon or something big in Moira's Craterside Supply.

James inhaled deeply for a few seconds, holding it for about a minute as he walked over to the table in the middle of his house, sitting in the seat in front of him before letting it out. Hopefully, this message would work. He's sent almost a hundred eyebots to his brother. Of course it was in his nature to assume that some of them would be destroyed via Raiders, Super Mutants taking potshots for target practice, mutant animals that plagued almost every single wasteland that dotted across the former United States of America. But he knew that at least some of them, at least one, had to have made it to his brother.

He may have been overthinking it at one point, but James had thought that his own brother, his twin, his own flesh and blood, was deliberately ignoring him. Yes, they had their differences, but James was never ignored, his brother always making his point and thoughts clear to him. In short, they always made sure that their voices were heard, always hearing each others' problems.

But now he was gone.

And now he was avoiding him.

The man that was the Lone Wanderer slowly ran a hand over his messy dark-brown hair until it lowered to the front of his face and slid back down, resting on the table, exhausted by all the work he puts into both helping what will no longer be the Capital Wasteland and trying to communicate with his brother in futility.

James heard the voice beside him, "Mister August? Is there anything I can do to assist in your predicament?"

He grit his teeth at that name. Yes, it was his, and he had refused to change it no matter the circumstance, but every time he heard that word, August, he was reminded of the man that was involved with his father's death: the Enclave commander, Colonel Autumn.

The Lone Wanderer may not be a fan of violence, but by God did it feel satisfying to finally put a .32 caliber bullet in between the bastard's eyes.

"It's alright, Wadsworth," he said, materializing a Nuka-Cola from his Pip-Boy, he removed the bottle cap out of habit and de-materialized it to be added to his still-inflating currency of Caps, "I'm fine."

"If... if you insist, sir," the Mr. Handy that was Wadsworth spoke in a hesitated tone before turning around and drifting away, most likely to find some use cleaning something that was more than likely dirty.

James took a swig from his expired and flat soda, not caring about the dull taste or the constant ticking of Rads from his Pip-Boy.

It wasn't until five minutes of contemplating over various subjects and listening to "Happy Times" on GNR from the device on his wrist later when he heard a loud and constant bout of knocking at the door. He watched as Dogmeat, who was sound asleep at the time in his dog-sized bed near the stairs, perk his head up at the familiar sound, Dogmeat Junior on the other hand stayed snoozing. A pair of pale, tired cobalt-blue eyes belonging to the Lone Wanderer himself stared at the door for a matter of seconds.

James slowly rose from his seat and walked towards the door, with his loyal canine companion at his side. He was in the process of unholstering his 10mm pistol and was about to hold it behind his back, suspicious over whoever that may have been at the door.

The Lone Wanderer had enemies, a LOT of enemies, some as common as the usual raiders and Super Mutants, as dangerous as the Enclave, to even the Slavers at both Paradise Falls and the Pitt (though he made sure that there wouldn't be any more of them in what was left of old Pittsburgh). So it wasn't uncommon for James to suspect that there may be some assassins out there in the wasteland who would be more than happy to kill him and bring his head to said assassins' employers or to hang his head on a wall like some kind of big game trophy.

James cursed at himself before dematerializing the pistol into the worn and battered cylindrical device on his wrist, shaking his head at his own paranoia. He mentally smacked himself from the fact that the settlers of Megaton were more than capable of defending themselves. That, and he would've heard gunfire from outside his house if there actually was a skirmish outside.

He opened the door, only to be greeted by a large humanoid mass of green and yellow muscles. Surrounding the hulking creature's muscles was a torn and tattered Vault 87 outfit, with only the shirt being in such a dilapidated state. On the meta-human's back was a rectangular pack with a deadly-looking gun strapped underneath.

"My friend! It is very good to see you again!" the beast before him bellowed, causing a small smile to form on the Lone Wanderer's face.

"Hey Fawkes, how are you?" James asked casually, eager to see his old friend after so long.

"I am doing fine, the people in this town seem to treat me with respect, perhaps a benefit to working alongside a hero such as yourself. But nevertheless, I have come to deliver a message," he explained, crossing his arms and looking down at the dog beside his old friend, "And Dogmeat, good pup, how have you been as well? Is your master treating you with the respect that you deserve?"

*Woof!* Dogmeat answered with his tongue still hanging from his mouth like any other excited dog, earning a laugh and a nod from the Super Mutant.

"Good, you have saved his life more times than he can count!" Fawkes said, the part of his mouth that wasn't in a permanent sneer formed into what seemed to be a sly grin.

"It's good to see you again too, old friend," the Lone Wanderer closed his eyes and shook his head in amusement, "Now, what was your message?"

"The Brotherhood of Steel requests your aid once more, something about 'another base', I do not remember much about the details. But what I do remember is that Elder Lyons said it would be best if you bring any allies that you trust, if necessary," Fawkes informed, recalling any details that Sarah had told him. He may have been sane, but there were still a few problems with the Super Mutant's memory; recalling his own name was one such example.

Ever since Fawkes had assisted them in ridding the Capital Wasteland of the Enclave and bringing about the success of Project Purity, Elder Lyons went out of his way to knight Fawkes as an unofficial member of the Brotherhood of Steel. Though the Codex stated that Super Mutants and anything similar were technically arch-enemies of the Brotherhood of Steel, Fawkes was an exception, seeing himself as a 'Meta-human', rather than referring to himself as a traditional Super Mutant.

Only a select few of the Brotherhood of Steel, such as Sarah and Elder Lyons, know of Fawkes' new title. Though the Brotherhood tolerated Fawkes' presence, it would be a certainty that there would be some form of outrage throughout the entire East chapter, much more the entire Brotherhood of Steel.

It was things like these that proved how much different Lyons was from the rest of the Brotherhood.

"Of course, I'll see you then," James nodded, Fawkes nodded back in content before turning and walking away, more than likely heading back to the Citadel to inform the Brotherhood of his success of having the Lone Wanderer assist in their new operation.

"We will wait for you when you arrive, my friend," the sane Super Mutant said as he continued to walk away, knowing that the Lone Wanderer was more than capable of defending himself on his way to the Citadel, MUCH more than capable.

He closed the door behind him, sighing deeply.

It had to be the Enclave, there was no other explanation. Of course the Enclave wasn't dead, it just can't. First, they was defeated in the battle of the Jefferson Memorial, then the Enclave was almost completely annihilated at the Adams Air Force Base, save for any wandering survivors that may be out there.

James grit his teeth in frustration before taking a deep breath and calming down, looking down to see Dogmeat looking up at him, tilting his head in confusion.

But of course, he had a job to do. He would have to continue if he wanted to see the permanent end of the Enclave's tyranny.

"It's fine, boy," he eased the dog's tension before looking forward, "Wadsworth!"

Literally a second later, the Mister Handy robot floated into James' field of vision, "Yes, Mister August?"

"Is my armor ready?"

"Sir, your armour has been ready for the past three days. I saw to the reparations myself, much to my regret," Wadsworth uttered the last few words quietly so his master wouldn't hear him.

'I'm a robot programmed to serve those living in a domestic lifestyle, I'm not a mechanic!' the robot complained within his own programming.

"Thanks, Wads," the Lone Wanderer nodded at the machine.

"You're very welcome," the Mister Handy floated back up the stairs, carrying a feather duster in it's metallic claw and disappearing from James' vision.

The man walked to one of the rooms in the house, another room right underneath the stairs, beside Dogmeat's bed. Inside the room was a large shape covered only by a dull grey tarp. James removed the thin sheet to see his newly-repaired Power Armor.

The Winterized T-51B Power Armor, retrieved after assisting a group of Brotherhood Outcasts with an Anchorage simulation, though this set of armor wasn't the only reward that he had received, Jingwei's Shocksword and the Gauss rifle were among these benefits.

He had to give Wadsworth credit, the robot really put a lot of effort into fixing this thing after he had helped the Brotherhood against the Enclave. His armor had become too damaged to use for the rest of the battle, so it was temporarily discarded, having to rely on nothing but his ballistic-armored Vault suit, a handful of Stimpaks, his trusty Hunting rifle, and his old 10mm pistol that he had kept for so long. The armor was retreived after the battle.

When he awoke from his little radiation bath, he discovered that the suit was damaged nearly beyond repair, covered in an assortment of damage ranging from average bullets, to lasers, plasma, rockets, there was probably even a Fat Man nuke that had attempted to turn him into a pile of ash, if he recalled correctly.

But nevertheless, with a little help from his Pip-Boy, a couple of power tools, the ever-so-handy Moira Brown, some strange gizmos from the mothership up in space, and Wadsworth, he put more emphasis on the words 'damaged nearly beyond repair'.

James ran his hand across the reflective metal breastplate of the armor, obviously impressed by the handiwork. He looked up at the helmet, it's fierce American patriotic glare boring into his own expression before moving to the back of the stationary armor.

With a twist of the valve on the back, the armor opened up, allowing the Lone Wanderer to step inside before letting it close on him, and bringing up a complex, dull orange heads-up display. He looked down at the mechanical hand currently being operated by his own, curling it's fingers experimentally before deciding that it was working at operational efficiency.

James watched as Dogmeat bounded up to him, panting with an eager look on his face, knowing that his master was now going to be traveling with him once more.

"Come on, boy. We have work to do," the Lone Wanderer responded as Dogmeat yipped happily at him.

As they both began to head out the door, James stopped as he was just about to exit, "Wadsworth! Dogmeat and I are going to go out for a bit. DJ is in charge while I'm gone."

"Of course, sir," Wadsworth nodded his center eye stalk at his master as he closed the door behind him. The robot sighed before looking down to see Dogmeat's descendent staring right back up at him.

*Woof!*Dogmeat Junior barked.

"Fine, I'll get your damn food. Bloody drooling mutt..." Wadsworth grumbled as he floated back into the kitchen to fix up a meal for the canine he was now forced to temporarily serve.

Meanwhile, while the robot and the puppy continued to stay within the walls of James' house, the owner and his faithful companion had stopped by both Moriarty's Saloon and Craterside Supply. Craterside Supply to pick up additional ammunition from Moira (James had gotten reports that her book was a success throughout any wasteland that it comes across), and Moriarty's Saloon to recruit Jericho, which had been... somewhat successful?

Jericho's reputation as a mercenary and companion of the Lone Wanderer's brother had grown stagnant after said brother had left. So the former raider did what he did best: return to Megaton, head to Moriarty's Saloon, get as shit-faced as humanly possible, rinse and repeat. Since then, nothing's really changed for the old man, besides the constant threat of boredom lurking around the corner.

The bald-headed mercenary trailed slightly behind the hero of the Capital Wasteland, his Chinese assault rifle pointed at a forty-five degree angle towards the ground, holding the deadly weapon in both hands. Strapped to his back was Jericho's infamous nail board, though there were a few new nails within the self-fabricated weapon, as some of the old ones were still lodged in his victims' heads.

"Listen here, kid," the former raider began, pointing an accusing finger at the Lone Wanderer, "I'm only signin' up with you on this 'adventure' with those tin-can friends of yours because of your brother."

James' hands clenched tightly in irritation, "Of course, Jericho."

He and Jericho were almost never on good terms, with him being the equalizer to prevent the raider and his brother from doing any more... morally ambiguous acts. That meant they didn't like each other, both having their differences and hating each other because of it.

To put it in perspective: the Lone Wanderer would rather donate all his caps to the Church of Atom if that meant that Jericho never existed in the first place.

Speaking of the Church of Atom, they were still preaching their words of... well, Atom. As much as it seemed necessary to tell Cromwell and the rest of his disciples that the bomb was deactivated, he really didn't have the heart to tell them the truth.

"Good, cuz if it's anything more than what you say, I'm out. That clear, asshole?" the bald mercenary demanded, thumbing off the safety of his assault rifle as they made their way down the ramp and exiting the bomb-themed town.

"Look, I may not be my brother-"

"Damn straight, that little bastard was the only badass out of the both of you, Lone Wanderer," Jericho snarked, a devilish smirk playing across his lips, mocking the man wearing a full, operational suit of T-51B power armor.

The young man from Vault 101 couldn't tell if Jericho was either really ballsy or a fucking idiot. But since this guy was once a raider that just so happened to still be alive in his old age, he decided that it was both.

James' eye twitched visibly in annoyance, "-BUT I'm just as tough as he is. So if you wouldn't mind; shut. The fuck. Up."

The former raider raised in eyebrow out of surprise (albeit slight surprise) before shrugging nonchalantly, shouldering the rifle in his hands, "So the boy scout has a mouth on him, I have to say I'm actually impressed. All right, I guess I'll stick around for a while."

"Good, now we have a... special job to do, so we'll have to retrieve some of my brother and mines' friends for said mission. Got it?" James asked, using the dim orange HUD on his Power Armor. Hanging from his side was his old 10mm pistol, modified to pack a little more kick into those that he took aim at, while Lincoln's Repeater had been hanging from his back.

"Just hurry it up!" Jericho shouted in irritation as they began to walk through the Capital Wasteland, his finger twitching against the trigger on his rifle.

"Relax, okay? Okay, we'll have to pick up Clover from the Paradise Falls ruins, she's probably snuggling up to Eulogy's fried skeleton right now; RL-3 will be at Canterbury, no doubt still confused by that Ant-agonizer and Mechanist predicament; Charon'll be hanging around Underwold, that's my best guess. Fawkes and Cross will be waiting for us at the Citadel. All good?" he asked, earning a bark from Dogmeat.

"We'll start with Clover," Jericho suggested, "that bitch is crazy, and that means that I can tolerate her the most."

James let out a quiet sigh, letting out a quiet mutter, "Of course, let's just get this over with."

He just hoped that eyebot would make it to it's location. Last time he had heard of his brother, there was a mention of a war going on near some place called New Vegas.

'What did my brother get himself into this time?' James had thought as soon as he received the news months earlier.

-Sixteen years ago-

July 13, 2268 (Monday)
Vault 101

"Hey J, Dad said he wanted to see us in the diner. What did you do this time?" James, a ten year-old boy with brown hair and cobalt eyes covered by a pair of black glasses, demanded from his twin brother.

"Me? What makes you think I did anything?" James' brother, who refused to be called anything but his nickname, 'J' or Jay, depending on how certain people see it.

Like his brother, James, they shared the same physical features, one of the perks of being identical twins. The only thing that helped others tell the two apart was the mischievous smirk that Jay always wore, like he was ready to pull a prank on someone at any given moment.

"It's you," James deadpanned, crossing his arms over his chest and giving a suspicious look.

Unlike Jay, James was the more mature of the two, as well as the smarter to compensate for his strength, which was more of his brother's specialty.

"Bite me, Daddy's boy. Wally deserved to have that firecracker in his toilet and both of us know it," Jay mimicked his twin's actions and gave him a slightly maniacal grin.

Oh right, he forgot to mention, despite Jay's more violent nature, he had something that seemed to get him out of almost any situation: a silver-tongue that could rival even the best smooth-talker in the Vault. With that extraordinary ability that was in Jay's arsenal, he had even managed to get away with some of his more... daredevil-level pranks, even in the presence of his own father.

James silently grit his teeth at his nickname, 'Daddy's boy', tugging at the sleeves of his Vault 101 suit as he still had his arms crossed. Despite being ten-years old, James had a surprisingly analytical mind thanks to his father, James August Senior.

Jay, on the other hand, was a bit more... difficult to deal with. He was more rebellious, rude, mischievous, and on some rare occasions, ruthless. For some unknown reason, his own sense of justice(?) was a little more than warped, and no matter what James (both his father and his brother) tried to do, they couldn't seem to find out what made him so... like that.

"Hey James, we're here," Jay interrupted his thoughts as they entered the near pitch-black diner, "Y'know where the light switch is?"

"To your right, just next to the door," James answered, recalling it's location from memory.

"Wow, one heck of a memory you got there, it'd be cool if you used that for my- GAH!" the twin's response was interrupted as he jumped up in fear from the light that suddenly blinded him temporarily, as well as a loud exclamation as the lights were suddenly turned on.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" an entire crowd, surrounding the brothers. Among that crowd was their father, the Overseer, and... Amata.

If anyone asked Jay if he had a crush on Amata, he would outright deny it, then would threaten to break the nose of the person who would dare to ask such a question in the first place. But in all honesty, James knew that Jay's statements were, in fact, on the contrary to what he was actually saying.

[PER 6] From James' perspective, the signs were pretty clear: Jay blushing from every compliment he received from the girl, stuttering and bumbling about like a total doofus when he tried to make conversation with her, the list goes on.

While Jay had been stunned and slightly disoriented from the surprise, James was smiling brightly at the people before him.

"Happy birthday, my boys! I can't believe you both are already ten. I'm so proud of you two," their father exclaimed, ruffling both boys' hair, "If only your mother-"

"Congratulations, boys! I don't have to tell you two how special this day is, do I?" the Overseer asked as he approached the two, crossing his arms lightly and glanced at the both of them.

James nodded slowly, while Jay was silently fuming. He knew that the more reckless of the two was not entirely used to authority, so when he was standing in the personification of command itself, it wouldn't bode well with someone as... free-spirited as Jay.

"Down here in Vault 101, when you turn ten, well, you're ready to take on your first official Vault responsibilities," the Overseer explained before removing a hollow, cylindrical device from the belt on his Vault jumpsuit, turning to look at James, the son, "So here you are. As Overseer, I hereby present to you your very own Pip-Boy 3000. Get used to it. You'll be getting your first work assignment tomorrow."

They watched as the Overseer laughed lightly before turning away, leaving Jay with nothing to give.

It seemed that the de facto ruler of Vault 101 was aware of the boy's resentment towards him, and it looked like this was his own way of indirectly expressing it.

"Enjoy your party, you're only ten once, so have fun," their father said before walking back to the far corner of the diner, beside a Mister Handy that was about to cut the birthday cake.

As the party continued to go on, the twins immediately ran into their friend, Amata, who just so happened to be the daughter of the Overseer himself.

"Happy birthday! We really surprised you, didn't we?" he dark-haired girl giggled lightly, "Your dad was afraid you two were onto us, but I told him not to worry. You both are so easy to fool."

"This is a great party, Amata. Thanks for doing this for us, we're really grateful," James said, while Jay was busy socializing with the party members, "Well... at least one of us is."

"It's alright, I don't know why Jay's like that," she observed the identical twin interacting with Butch and his so-called 'gang' before looking back at James, "and you're welcome. But really, your dad did most of it. I just helped with the decorations and stuff. Oh hey, I bet you can't guess what I got you for you guys' birthday. Go on, guess!"

James lowered his glasses slightly before smiling, "A date with Christine Kendall?"

As soon as the question left his lips, Amata's face immediately scrunched up in disgust, speaking in a voice equal to her expression, though there were a few giggles before she spoke, "Eww, James! I didn't think you were into girls like tha-"

Just as she was about finish her sentence, however, the pair turned to see Jay and Butch in the middle of the diner with the rest of the bully's thugs surrounding the both of them, both them and the rest of the party members in the diner watching as the two were in the process of a fight, with the both of them laying a brutal beatdown on one another. Butch slammed his fist into Jay's jaw, causing him to snap back before wiping his face with his Vault suit, which was now slicked with a tinge of blood.

Before the fight could erupt into anything more chaotic, the Vault security guard watching over the fight, Officer Gomez, stepped in between the two, holding them by the collars of their Vault suits, "Both of you need to stop, now!"

"He started it!" Jay yelled, pointing an accusing finger at the bully in front of him before turning to look at his brother for any form of sympathy, "He tried to steal our sweetroll!"

"You're the one that talked shit about my mom!" Butch screamed with a furious scowl on his face.

"My word! It is best that you watch your profanity, young man!" Andy, the Mister Handy behind the counter floating in front of what used to be a cake (but now resembled more of an abomination made of bread and frosting), gasped through his audio system.

"Butch, you were invited to James' and Jay's birthday party as a member of this party, act like it," the guard warned.

James facepalmed as a triumphant smirk had suddenly appeared on Jay's face.

"As for you, Jay,-" the boy's grin disappeared almost immediately as he watched his own father get up from his seat and walk over to him, "-this is not just your party, this is your brother's as well. I expect that you do not cause any trouble as well. Do you understand?"

They watched as the boy stood silent for just a second before nodding slowly, an almost audible growl emitting from his throat as both he and Butch were let go.

"What's Butch's problem anyway? He just tried to start a fight with you guys' birthday party, what a jerk!" she whispered to James, who nodded in agreement.

"Jay told me Butch tried to steal his-... our sweetroll," James corrected himself, remembering that he had seen Old Lady Palmer give his brother a sweetroll earlier, telling him to share.

"Sheesh, Butch really is full of himself," Amata commented, "I bet if you got a look inside his head, there'd just be another Butch inside, waiting to pop out."

"Ugh, don't put that picture in my head," the twin Vault dweller cringed at the thought, "Let's just have fun."

"Yep, way ahead of you," she nodded, watching as James walked across the room to rejoin with his brother.

While James had intended to stay with the party and continue to socialize as the twin Vault dwellers' party continued, he turned to see Jay walking out of the party with their dad. The boy walked towards the exit, turning to look at the rest of the party.

Maybe they wouldn't mind if he slipped out of the party for a little bit? Regardless, he walked out, quietly following his dad and brother.

James had to hold back a giggle as his brother ran into Beatrice, another resident of the Vault. Though the boy was trying to stifle his laughs not because it was merely the fact that it was Beatrice, but what she had given to him as a gift.

It was a poem that she had written for him as a birthday gift. He couldn't help but chuckle quietly at the fact that Jay wasn't exactly the philosophica-

"Here you go, sweetie. I want you to give this to your brother," James suddenly heard, watching and listening as the awkward look on his twin's face disappear into neutrality.

...Oh.

Nevertheless, he continued to follow them until they reached the reactor, where he was now listening in the middle of their conversation.

"-If you can wait just one more minute, I think your dad will want to give you the surprise himself."

Wait a minute, where was his dad? Wasn't he with them just a second ago?

"James," just the suddenness of that one word caused him to emit a loud yelp in surprise.

He turned to see that his own dad was standing right behind him, while Jay's expression turned to surprise as he was now aware of his brother's presence.

"Have you been following us the whole time?" his brother asked, one of his eyebrows rising out of intrigue.

"Um..." James fumbled slightly, trying to find an excuse. While James was conscious of how smart he already was (given that he's his father's son, obviously), he also knew that Jay was just as smart.

"It's fine, my boy," his father patted him on the shoulder lightly, calming the boy's mood somewhat before the old man's voice took on a tone of amusement, "I knew you were following us."

"Then why leave me out of it?" James asked, more out of curiosity than agitation.

"The both of you are brothers, inseparable," the aged man before him explained, looking at the both of them with a brief pause, "where one goes, the other is surely there, following not too far behind."

Both brothers looked at their father, confused by his answer.

"Makes sense to some degree," Jonas, the Vault dweller who Jay had been talking with earlier, nodded in understanding.

"But never mind me rambling now," their father waved offhandedly, his mood shifting almost entirely, "Are you ready for your surprise?"

Both brothers perked up immediately at their father's question.

"What kind of surprise?" they answered simultaneously.

They watched as their father's smile faltered slightly, looking towards James. The boy knew his answer was not going to be good.

"I'm sorry, my son, but this is your brother's gift. The Overseer had explained that there were not enough Pip-Boys to go around," he explained, "instead, I took it upon myself to get a gift for him."

[PER 6] James looked up at his father, who had grimaced slightly at his own answer. And like his father, he knew there were enough of the devices to go around. So the question was, why would their own Overseer alienate Jay of all people from having a Pip-Boy?

Both watched as their father withdrew a small rifle and a plastic canister filled with small red pellets.

"Your own BB gun. It's a little old, but it should work perfectly," the gun left his hand and was transferred into Jay's, "Jonas found it down here. It was in pretty rough shape, it took us a good three months to find the parts to get it working again."

"That means you have me to thank as well," Jonas said, smiling humorlessly, though they knew that he had secretly took pride in the fact that he had gotten it back to working condition.

"You know how tough it is to find a spring that small? Good thing Butch 'misplaced' that switchblade of his," James, their father, laughed lightly at his comment, with Jay laughing even more so beside him.

"Thanks Dad, I love it," Jay smiled a genuine smile, not a smirk, not some smug sneer. James' brother was actually grateful for this gift, which was something that had happened once in a blue moon; his gratitude, not the gifts.

"I knew you would, my boy. Now, what's say we give your new present a test run?"

Jay's smile grew even wider, his grasp on the rifle tightened in excitement, "Heck yeah!"

"Good answer, and I know just the place, c'mon," their father motioned to Jonas, who opened the door beside them.

They walked into the room to be greeted by a large collection of boxes scattered throughout the room, but what caught the boys' interest was the row of targets lined up horizontally.

"You know what? Since I'm feeling generous, little brother, I'll let you take the first turn," James suddenly felt the faux firearm in his hands as it was pushed onto him by his brother.

"You really mean it?" he looked at Jay in surprise, before shifting into a frown, "Wait a minute? Little brother? We're the same age, you nincompoop!"

Jay only burst out laughing, shaking his head in amusement, "Yeah, go ahead, knock yourself out."

James loaded a magazine into the gun before having to remove it, finding out that he had deposited the object backwards. Nevertheless, he managed to properly load the gun after a few tries, finally taking aim.

He shifted his glasses slightly and fired once, watching as the pellet soared through the air, determined to make it's mark before finally-

"Missed," Jay said, crossing his arms with a smug grin on his face.

James looked to see that he had, in fact, missed his target, watching as the pellet merely smacked into the wall behind the targets before clattering onto the floor.

"Drat," James mumbled, listening as Jay snickered behind him. He responded by sticking his tongue at him before raising the weapon once more and firing again.

Alright, he was only a beginner with this kind of stuff, so maybe he could surely-

"Missed again."

"Darnit!" the boy growled before raising it once more.

Third times a char-

"Missed again."

James eye twitch before finally turning to face his brother, "Why don't you give it a try and see if you can do any better?"

Jay merely shrugged before grabbing the gun from his brother's hand, walking over to the front of boxes that separated him from the other side of the room.

With an almost inhuman dexterity and speed that James had never witnessed from his brother in all his life, he watched in awe as Jay cocked the weapon and began taking aim and firing at each target that stood before him. The targets spun wildly as the pellets made contact.

The only expression that the boy had seen on his brother's face was what could only be described as precise.

Jonas and James, both of them, looked at the boy with surprised expressions.

"Where'd you learn how to do that?" Jonas asked, pointing to Jay's gun, then to the targets.

[?] "I don't know," he confessed, "It just... happened? I dunno."

"Jonas, I think we have a natural over here," their father said to the man standing next to him, smiling before it dropped immediately, "Boys, look!"

The twins turned to see something crawl into view, it looked like some kind of disgusting monster. A dark brown carapace covering it's body, small brown-tinted wings flickering, a pair of antennae constantly twitching across the floor.

"Be careful, son. That's a Radroach, if you can take care of that with your BB gun, you'll be fine, just aim and shoot."

Easy, Jay thought as he raised his gun once more, aiming for the one spot that would surely get rid of it.

*Ptew!*

The pellet shot out of the barrel of the gun, moving at a fast pace towards it's intended target.

They watched as the gun's single ammunition perforated the giant bug's head, exiting out the other end and clattering across the other end of the room.

"Good work, that's one less Radroach we have to deal with," their dad remarked, glancing at the many pieces that made the Radroach's brain.

He looked at the twins, "Let's take a picture together, to capture the moment. Hey Jonas, get a picture of me and my sons: the genius and the big game hunter."

All three watched as Jonas withdrew a camera and pointed it in their direction.

James crossed his arms with a small smile, Jay held his rifle vertically, the barrel touching the floor with his hand resting on the other end. Their father held a proud smile across his face, his arms wrapped around the two things that mattered most to him on this earth.

Little did they know that this was only the beginning of their story. A story forged from pain, misery, heartbreak, betrayal, and most importantly: war.

Because war... war never changes.

Disclaimer: Alright, hope you enjoyed the first chapter of Sand and Steel, because I had a lot of fun writing this.

So I decided to take a different route. First with it being Fallout, one of my all time favorite series in video games, and second with telling a slightly AU story.

How AU? Well, as you can already tell, what if the Lone Wanderer wasn't the only child? What if he had a twin brother?

Anyway, if you have any questions, just leave a review and I'll answer them in the next chapter.

And as always, stay beautiful, ladies and gents! This is Mr. New Vega- oops, never mind. Just stay beautiful.