There are certain realities to acclimatize to when one's husband is a veteran. One niggling detail the recruitment posters neglect to mention is that they often carry the ghosts of their battles with them, whose whispers grow loudest in the dark.
In all honesty, this isn't even the first time Kaelyn has been startled awake by one of Nate's nightmares. Something solid connects with her hip and her eyes snap open as she teeters over the edge of the gurney. It takes her a moment to recognize the room; it's not their bedroom, but Vault 111. Nate's shifting in his sleep, blankets trapping his legs, and beside him Shaun wakes with a cry.
Sensing potential danger, Kaelyn scoops up the baby so he isn't smothered. With her free hand she touches Nate's shoulder—but lightly, in case he startles. Every partner of a veteran learns how to minimize their chances of catching an errant, panicked punch. "Hon. Honey, wake up."
He rolls over, and she shakes his arm again. "Wake up. It's just a—"
She springs back when he lurches upright, narrowly avoiding head butting her. Shaun makes a noise of complaint at the sudden movement, and Kaelyn tries to comfort both her son and her husband at the same time. With her free hand she strokes Shaun's cheek, while saying, "It's okay. It's okay. We're okay."
Under her soothing mantra, Nate's gaze settles on her. Recognition sparks. "Kaelyn?"
Before she can answer, he crushes her and Shaun into a hug. Burying his face in her neck, he wraps his arms around her waist as he shudders. Freeing one arm, she strokes his hair, down his back, along his ribs. "It's okay, hon. We're safe, all of us."
Nate only pulls back when Shaun wriggles with another cry. "Let me hold him."
Kaelyn hesitates a fraction of a second, assessing if it's safe for them both. Nate notices. She holds out Shaun without a word and, with all the gentleness in the world, Nate lifts their baby out of her arms. Tucking Shaun's head under his chin, he rocks back and forth, crooning under his breath. Under his lullaby, Shaun drifts back to sleep. At least one of them can.
Kaelyn helps Nate settle back on the bed, since both of his arms are occupied, and she curls up beside him. Nate's sigh heralds that all is, if not well, then at least calm.
She offers, as she always does, "Want to talk about it?"
He hesitates, as he always does. Expecting him to confide in her is an all but useless hope. So when his fingers tighten on her shoulder, signaling a decision made, resolve gathered, she can't contain her surprise.
"I thought you two were dead. For months. And I— I just followed orders. For months. At first we did what we could to maintain order, but it wasn't enough. Neighbors turned on each other for a bottle of water. Things became… bad." That pulls a laugh from him, like a rope hauling a muddy boulder from the depths of a bog. He closes his eyes, presses the heel of his hand into the bridge of his nose. "Understatement of the century. I didn't actually go AWOL to find you. I abandoned what's left of Fox Company because we were just another gang with guns, killing anything that got in our way." He swallows, the motion harsh, bitterness carving itself into his face.
Kaelyn ponders this. Fights a shudder of revulsion. She can't imagine Nate participating in that. She runs her fingers through his hair, lightly scratching circles over his scalp. "So the army served itself first?"
With downcast eyes, he nods.
"But if the army can't restore order, who can?"
"Nobody," is his glum response. Then he shakes himself out. "I mean, it's up to the rest of us to rebuild what we can."
The enormity of the situation creeps on Kaelyn, slowly, like the pre-dawn sky that lightens from navy blue to gunmetal gray, in the quiet space that transitions from one state to another.
No more law firm, or working cases, or driving in peak hour traffic. No more baseball games or walks along the beach. No more family lunches. No more shopping or toiletries or any of the creature comforts that mark twenty first century living.
To distract herself, she asks, "So what made you come home?"
"In one of your holotapes, you mentioned that you'd signed up for the Vault Program. I needed something to hang onto… something to believe in."
Shifting onto one elbow, Kaelyn kisses him. "Thank you for coming home. I thought I'd never see you again."
His smile softens the tension that lingers at the corners of his eyes. "You don't have to thank me for something like this."
Her sigh slithers, warm and humid, across his bare pectoral. Shaun snuggles between them, his little fingers grasping at the hem of Kaelyn's shirt, prompting Nate to catch his hand. Underneath her ear, his heartbeat slows to a gentler rhythm. Her hand runs through his hair, and she find the raised bump on the back his head just above his right ear. Her touch gentles the moment she realizes what it is, accompanied by a questioning look.
"Rosa's kid," he says.
It's all the explanation anyone ever needs when it comes to Luis. Kaelyn will be sure to have words with Ms Rosa. Nate ducks his head to kiss away her anger.
Kaelyn says at last, "Shaun is never going to sleep in his own bed again."
Nate groans and stretches as best he can on the gurney, which results in three limbs dangling over the edges. "I'd settle for a bigger bed."
If they hadn't been welcomed into the dormitory with their baby before, they definitely won't be now. "Sooner or later, the infirmary will be needed for its intended use. Maybe we should look into a permanent relocation."
Their home above ground flits across her mind. While it hadn't been the intention of her suggestion, she wonders when—or if—they can ever live there again. If their house is in any livable condition anymore.
Indeed, Brenner evicts them after breakfast so she can check their neighbors one by one. Or rather, she gives them a polite warning that they ignore the same way one rolls deeper into the blankets when an alarm goes off. Kaelyn's halfway back to sleep when there's a crash.
She clips her forehead against Nate's chin when she jumps. Shaun lets out a wail, and as Nate hushes him, Kaelyn looks over to see Brenner standing by her desk. There's an empty tray on the desk and a bland smile on her face. They hurriedly dress and vacate the premises as directed. Kaelyn takes Nate's hand to lead him to the mess.
"What's the rush?" he teases.
"I don't like—lazing around here. I want to help."
Nate's huff exists somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. "A tiny human being is entirely dependent on you. That isn't exactly 'lazing around'. But if you want to lend a hand around here, we can find something."
One problem is apparent: Nate had gone to the surface to find food and returned with more mouths to feed. Even if Sanctuary Hills' residents add their supplies to the vault's stock, they still don't yet have enough to release the others from cryo. The second problem will be space. They need more beds, and a work roster to maintain the vault. At least they have a medic in the form of Brenner.
Nate and Shaun are getting along much better now—or, perhaps more accurately, Shaun has learned to accept his father. He probably doesn't even remember Nate from his first month of life, but that won't stop Nate from making new memories with him. So after Shaun is fed, with her two men playing and Codsworth in a cleaning blitz, Kaelyn explores Vault 111. The lights are softer than she remembers, and the temperature is lower. Perhaps that last one is psychological; her feet have been cold from the moment she stepped into the decontamination pod. Cryo pod.
A whisper of footsteps follow her down the dim corridors. Even though she knows they're her own echoing behind her, the back of her neck prickles. It's still hard to consider that the staff who welcomed them into Vault 111, ushered them into the pods, used them as unknowing test subjects—they're gone. Nate hadn't gone into detail, but the word 'mutiny' carries certain connotations.
There's a stain on the floor near the door, and she wonders if she wants to know what it is.
Bypassing the mystery stain, Kaelyn investigates the room. It counts among the larger she's seen in the vault, illuminated by downlights that flicker into existence at the door's motion. They cast cool light around the room, chasing the deeper tones to puddle in the corners. The presence of unused space is almost criminal, hosting only a massive desk that arches around a well-padded office chair.
But then, the elite always play by their own rules. This must be the Overseer's office.
Sinking into the chair, the heavenly padding soothes the various aches in her back and shoulders; its worth the price of coughing up dust that has settled into every crevice of the faux leather. Back rubs can only mitigate so much of the resulting soreness from their less-than-ideal sleeping space. With a long, reedy sigh that starts deep in her chest, she relaxes fully into the chair. This is better than her chair at the firm. That one had been old enough the padding had flattened from extended use.
The desk terminal is locked, but curiosity wins over good manners. Her friend Padma had taught her how to generate a data dump of recently typed words that includes the password. A few minutes later, the terminal welcomes back the Overseer. Telling herself this is just to find any information that can help them rebuild, she pours over his local files.
But the records she pulls up are those regarding the experiment.
She just wants to know why. What they'd been hoping to achieve. If they'd wanted, they could have told the truth about the pods but spun it in an inviting manner: cryogenically preserved, you will be safe from the immediate dangers of the fallout while we reestablish contact with HQ! It'll be like taking a nap, and when you wake up a new world will be waiting for you!
Shaun is mentioned more than once. Not by name—never by name—but as 'the infant subject'. Sickness pools in her gut, a miasma that washes through her body. Logging off, Kaelyn pushes to her feet, heart pounding in her ears, hands trembling. Her baby had been nothing more than a curiosity to them as they openly speculated whether cryogenic stasis is even safe for an infant.
It would be hard to reconcile with the Overseer's smiling welcome, guiding them into their new home, if she didn't already know he lied.
Another door sits in an unobtrusive corner. It springs open at her touch, revealing a luxurious bedroom—relatively speaking, at least. Half the size of the office, it offers ample space for a double bed, dressers, and even a bookshelf. Investigating the door on the other side of the room exposes a private bathroom. For all its spartan furniture, the presence of a private shower cubicle makes up for the hideous color scheme.
The bookshelf holds a number of medical tomes, a few magazines, and a half-dozen self-help books, lined up in that pristine manner that betrays them to be as much decoration as the generic painting of a sailboat hanging on the wall. Only more pretentious. After her years in the firm, visiting many an office with walls of untouched bookshelves, the tells are obvious. Kaelyn runs her hand along their spines. All this assembled knowledge is now more precious than ever, sitting quiet and innocuous as it does, as the most dangerous things always do.
The Overseer's ghost chases her out of the room. Kaelyn is halfway down the corridor when something clatters.
She whirls, arms locking up, adrenaline spiking on her tongue.
It's just a cockroach, scurrying away from an overturned bucket. Here's hoping Codsworth has learned how to eradicate pests without resorting to his flamethrower.
With a sheepish exhale, Kaelyn retreats to the mess hall, but her thoughts circle back to the bookshelves and double bed.
Nate and Ms Rosa are sitting at the table in the mess while Codsworth washes the dishes. Shaun stands in Nate's lap, gripping the collar of his jacket for balance, and bounces on his knees. He's the first to notice her, interrupting Nate with a squeal of delight.
"Here I am," she calls as Nate looks over his shoulder.
"There you are, mum! Mister Nate and I were wondering where you were!"
"Just exploring a bit." Shaun reaches for Kaelyn as she slides into the seat beside Nate. She lightly bops his nose and lets him wrap his pudgy hand around her fingers. "Hello to you too, little one. And you." She leans over to kiss Nate's cheek.
A distant alarm blares.
Brenner rushes past the mess, a blur of motion, her hair streaming behind her. She doesn't even stop, just glances through the doorway and then she's gone, her voice floating behind her. "Nate! I need you here!"
"What's happening?" he calls.
"One of the pods malfunctioned! Come on!"
Even if the command is directed at Nate, Kaelyn follows on his heels.
"I'll look after young Shaun while you help!" Codsworth calls after their backs. "There, there! Your parents will be back in no time, I'm sure!"
The air grows chill, spearing Kaelyn's lungs with every breath. Brenner and Nate take off ahead, tracking through the corridors down to the bowels of the vault. Kaelyn rounds the corner to see them enter Bay C. Leaping straight over the stairs, Brenner skids on the icy floor to halt in front of a pod. Hands press against the glass on the inside, fingers unfurling like the frostbitten petals of a drooping flower, too weak to bang their panic.
Brenner hits the manual override and the pod cracks open. Its occupant flops into Nate's arms like an icicle cleaved from an overhang. He lowers her to the ground and Brenner checks her pulse. When Nate shifts on his knees, her face becomes visible.
Mrs Able.
"What's going on?" Loitering at the top of the stairs are all of Vault 111's remaining residents. Ms Rosa is the one who asked.
"You!" Brenner points at Hawthorne. "Grab the gurney from the infirmary!"
With a quick nod he detaches from the group and bolts down the corridor. Luis peers around his mother to the scene unfolding, his too-large baseball cap half-cocked on his head.
Kaelyn holds out a hand to stop him from slinking past her. "We should stay back and let them work in peace." Even if it doesn't sit right, even if she wants to crouch by Mrs Able and help, or just hold her hand, she'll only get in the way. Mrs Able is limp on the ground, her weak gasps echoing in the chamber like silver fish darting away from predators. Nate and Brenner crouch over her, checking her for injury as best they can without any equipment, murmuring to each other. A wheeling clatter heralds Hawthorne's return with the gurney.
"Out of the way!" Kaelyn urges the gawking observers to back up as Nate lifts Mrs Able onto the gurney. "I'll handle them. You look after her!"
He and Brenner wheel her away as quickly as they entered Bay C. Kaelyn holds out a hand to halt Anna, who moves to follow. "We need to let them work without us hovering over their shoulders."
"But that's Mrs Able," she protests.
"I know. But we'd only get in the way. That goes for you, too," she adds when Luis tries yet again to duck around her outstretched arm.
"But I wanna see what's going on!" Luis whines.
Drawing in a short breath, Kaelyn says, impassive, "You can find out if she's all right when the rest of us do. Rosa?"
After years of Luis's antics, all one needs to implore Ms Rosa to control her son is a word. Snaring his shoulder with one hand, she draws him away with promises of Blast Radius.
Kaelyn herds the group back to the mess hall, gently urging Hawthorne to keep up when he stops to ogle through the windows into Bay A.
"What was it like?" he asks. "Being an ice block?"
The memories press down on her, so heavy they steal her breath. She can taste astringent on her tongue. Still, she answers honestly. "It was just… black. It was like going to sleep with the window open in winter. If that answers your question, we should go."
As he falls in step behind her, he remarks, "You know, if not for the fact it requires trusting that you'll be let out on time, that might be a good way to ride out the apocalypse. Go to sleep and wake up when there's enough food again. Hell, it might be a better trip than any of my stock…"
In the mess, it's a tense wait that is all the more grating for Codsworth's attempts to lighten the mood. "Who's up for a game of charades?"
"Maybe some other time," Kaelyn says.
What could be an hour later—and they do need to invest in working clocks around here—Nate drops heavily into the seat beside her and rests his hand on Shaun's hair. A stray droplet of water rolls from his freshly-washed hand. Exhaustion creeps along his face with the silent persistence of ivy smothering a house.
Preoccupied with massaging the tension from the back of Nate's neck, Kaelyn isn't the one to ask.
"How is she?" Anna asks.
"Sleeping, for the moment. We got her stable, but now we need to find the cause of the malfunction."
Instead of taking a shower and a nap, Nate swills a cup of coffee and heads back to the cryogenic array to do just that, scouring the logs on the local monitoring terminals for clues. No doubt his thoughts bound in a similar direction to hers: maybe cryogenic stasis isn't safe after all. Maybe next time it will kill someone.
By the time Brenner announces Mrs Able is ready for visitors, Kaelyn is all but lining up outside the door. She sits beside Mrs Able's bed, Shaun employing her lap as a personal jungle gym.
If only the antics of her infant son can distract Mrs Able from more pressing concerns. "I could have sworn I saw your husband, dear, but isn't he on duty? It seems strange I haven't seen any of the vault doctors."
Remembering that confusion all too clearly, the frosted glaze on her first memories out of the pod, Kaelyn says, "I'm afraid the pods weren't for decontamination. Vault-Tec lied to us. They froze us in cryogenic stasis."
Mrs Able blinks up at her. "I'm sorry, dear, but I don't understand what you mean."
So Kaelyn lays everything out, from beginning to end, even though shock has descended in earnest, a thick piling of cotton wool that prevents Mrs Able from absorbing the timeline of events.
Only one thing can pierce her fugue: mention of her husband, Roger. "Where is he?" she asks. "We came into the vault together. He should be here. My parents are in New York, and my sister is interstate. She must have been far enough away from that awful bomb, surely."
Ah. Her concern conjure demons more surely than an incantation, releasing them to lurk on the shadowed ceiling. Without even a glimpse of the surface after that awful orange glow, fear is given free reign to toy with Kaelyn's imagination, conjuring images of burned out buildings and broken bodies.
Nate survived for eight months. She has to hold onto that. Nate survived. Her neighbors survived. That means something.
"I hope so." Non-committal, perhaps, but it's the only true statement to be made. "As for your husband, he's still in cryogenic stasis. We're going to release everyone when we can, but we have a lot of work ahead of us to make this place livable."
With the sudden emergence of another human who requires sustenance, the food talk is pushed to the top of the agenda again. They can't count on cryogenic stasis remaining stable for a long time, so the sooner they have the supplies to release everyone, the better. Gathered around one of the tables in the mess, Vault 111's modest number of residents suddenly feels like too many. The air is now warmed by body heat and tension. Mrs Able sits between Ms Rosa and Jacinta, her slender hands wrapped around a steaming mug.
Nate leans forward in his seat. "So how did you guys survive eight months topside? You must've found food somewhere."
"Besides raiding every pantry? We nurtured a few plants that had survived around Sanctuary Hills," Jacinta explains. "It was better than nothing, but it still..."
Anna covers her wife's hand with their own, linking their fingers together. But Anna's expression is likewise absent, both women staring into two separate spaces.
"You bet it wasn't," Hawthorne grimaces. "We were going through all the houses in the street. Even caught a few animals before they all died in the rain. When people started dropping, it meant less food had to be shared 'round."
Neither Nate or Brenner bat an eyelash at this, but Kaelyn's stomach turns. How can the deaths of their neighbors be worth only a casual remark?
"For now we can scavenge what's left behind," Brenner says, "but it won't last forever."
Shaun burps and Kaelyn mops up the milk spillage. "And you'll have to travel farther and farther away as we deplete local supplies." She watches Nate. He'll be the one to volunteer for any scavenging jobs. She just knows it.
"We could establish a hydroponics lab," Mrs Able says. "I had some seeds I'd been keeping for an emergency. Tomatoes don't match roses, you understand." In the days since her recovery, she has been quiet, taken to long hours of watching her tea cool or visiting her still-frozen husband in Bay C. She hasn't regained her strength, and hasn't taken well to the strict rationing that's in place. But that torpor begins to peel away like worn bark from the trunk of a tree, revealing a new resolve to put her skills to use.
Murmurs of approval circuit the table.
Hawthorne crosses his arms. "And where are we gonna get the supplies for that? Plants don't just grow underground."
If Miller were here—as the engineer who once resurrected Kaelyn's terminal from the dead—she'd know a way to build a contraption that would solve their problems. Wherever she and Sculley are, Kaelyn hopes they've found her family. That they're safe.
Folding her hands on the table, Mrs Able straightens her shoulders and clears her throat. "With correct setup, they can."
"Listen here, folks." Hawthorne's chair squeaks as he leans back, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. "You realize what we're sitting on? Working cryogenic stasis. This is huge."
Nate raises an eyebrow, but is tone is mild. "You miss the part were we just had to pull someone out because of mechanical failure?"
"And you've committed yourself to making sure that never happens again, right? You say the solution to find more food, but what if there's another option? If we can't feed everyone, just chuck a few in stasis until there's more. No cannibalism required."
"You volunteering?"
Under the table, Kaelyn squeezes Nate's knee. She says, honestly, "That hadn't occurred to me. If it's deemed safe—" she glances in the direction of Brenner, who has remained silent so far "—then perhaps we can look into it. On the condition that it will only be done with someone's informed consent. We aren't Vault-Tec."
"Remember this is experimental technology," Brenner says. "We don't know what the long-term effects are because this has never been done before. Not to my knowledge, at least."
"The world's never burned in nuclear fire before, either," he shoots back.
It's the verbal equivalent of jabbing a broken bone, finding the center of the throbbing, red-hot hurt and pressing down on it. The table becomes an object of fascination for a half-dozen pairs of eyes, some red, some overbright, all downcast.
Kaelyn breaches the silence, pretending Hawthorne did not just say that. "To sum up, in the short term we'll scour Sanctuary Hills and Concord for anything left, and in the long term tend our own crops. We'll also investigate the possibility of continuing to use the cryo pods, should individuals wish to do so."
There's a cascade of nods around the table, and that seals it.
Over the next weeks, a flurry of activity defines their waking hours. Being their resident 'army do-gooder', as Brenner affectionately nicknames him, Nate takes the lead on any surface excursions. Kaelyn needs a productive outlet for that niggling unease that rises like a high tide in a dark ocean grotto, so they plan Nate's expected route together. If her profession has taught her anything, it's that knowledge is power. If this is the only advantage she has, she has to leverage it for all its worth.
This isn't the shopping she'd had in mind for Nate when he finally returned from the army.
As their only medic, Brenner is likewise vault-bound. The only other volunteer to head to the surface is Hawthorne, and his request to borrow power armor is shot down without a thought from Nate.
Nate and Hawthorne aren't the only two going for each others' throats. Between looking after Shaun and resolving the petty disputes that crop up, Kaelyn isn't sure who she's mothering more. By this point Codsworth has paid himself off twice over, and is working his way through a third as they alternate between babysitting Shaun and working through their assigned tasks.
When Nate ventures out, he is usually gone most of the day, leaving Kaelyn to play with Shaun and try not to wonder if this is the time he won't come home, or what the surface is like now. The second time he returns victorious, his power armor laden with the asked-for supplies. Kaelyn helps the others untangle the cords that bind his spoils to the frame, since he can't exit his power armor until he's free of them. Being so close to a walking tank still makes her edgy, but when Nate pops off his helmet, his head looks so out of proportion with the armored body that she fights a snicker.
One of the wooden crates squawks when Jacinta grabs it, and she almost drops it in shock. Nate, however, grins, and urges her to open it. With the expression of one who expects a bomb to detonate in her face, Jacinta peels back the lid and a chicken's head pops up. While Brenner confirms it to be irradiated and most of the eggs it lays are unfit to eat, they keep the hen in the hopes it might one day recover enough to provide good eggs.
One of the secondary labs is chosen to be converted into a hydroponics lab. With the books Nate rescued for Mrs Able, she sketches a possible setup for the lab. Instead of toiling over numbers and reports on the cryogenics experiment, the lab's occupants nurtures the seedlings that peek out of the trays within a week. Mrs Able presides over what is now her domain, coaxing the seedlings with a firmness better suited to misbehaving school kids. Jacinta and Anna work with her, and even sweet talk Nate into gathering some cuttings from the surface. The hen is given a home in the lab, though it manages to escape on more than one occasion to wander the corridors.
Mrs Able suggests turning the research papers into fertilizer, but they are rescued by Brenner, who swoops in to claim the lab reports in the name of medical science.
When the hydroponics lab is in working order, those who aren't gardeners are assigned to the various jobs needed to keep the vault in working order, including setting up more living areas for their to-be-woken neighbors. Codsworth is the only one who takes to the task with gusto. Nate still leaves every few days, returning with varying amounts of supplies each time. Sometimes he drags bed frames and other furniture to the elevator.
Between Brenner and Kaelyn, they organize a plan to release the other stasis-bound residents when they have a steady supply of food. So as to not flood the clinic, they'll thaw out the residents in small groups, starting with those deemed by Brenner to be higher risk; namely, those with known medical conditions.
Three months from the time they start their vault renewal project, the stockroom is almost full and the plants are growing well in the hydroponics lab. Brenner does the math, and on the condition surface teams continue to forage, they now have the resources to provide for everyone. With a round-table agreement, they get to work.
Kaelyn counts among the volunteers who help Brenner and Nate work. Of the five, one is Mr Able, who has a heart condition. Thankfully, their release goes as smoothly as Kaelyn's, but Brenner still keeps them in the clinic for an observation period.
Freeing all three bays of stasis subjects is a long and arduous process, if only because of Brenner's caution. What took only moments on October 23 stretches now across several days. Kaelyn can't help on the medical side, but she can talk down confused and recalcitrant patients.
"If you just return to your bed, sir, Brenner will be with you when she's finished," she says, trying to usher a man away fro the door without invading his personal space.
"But I need to know what's going on!" he insists. "Just where is the Overseer, anyway? He said we'd be going through orientation after decontamination."
"We'll explain everything once everyone has been given a clean bill of health," Kaelyn says. "You understand it's better to inform everyone at the same time."
He agrees, albeit reluctantly, and sits down on his bed. Kaelyn withholds a sigh and searches for the next imminent crisis.
She needn't look far. The shapely redhead Kaelyn remembers seeing when she first entered Vault 111 stands by her shoulder. She must be from Concord. Kaelyn braces for another argument, but the woman introduces herself as Phyllis Conway. "Excuse me, dear, you look like you're in charge here. Could you point me to the showers? I need a little clean up."
Kaelyn clears her throat. "I don't know if I'd say I'm in charge, but you want to take two lefts and then a right. The showers are right beside the mess hall."
As Mrs Conway wanders away, Brenner arches an eyebrow. She'd watched the whole thing. "That's… a point." A speculative gleam rests in her eyes like a pearl nestled in a velvet box. "We don't have a leader. That's gonna be problem sooner or later."
As they continue to free people, they get a crash course in the various side effects people have upon waking: insomnia, headaches, low appetites, and a few who are bedridden. Brenner chronicles everything for future reference, and the irony of continuing Vault-Tec's research does not escape her.
Four days later, the mess hall is packed to capacity, and Kaelyn makes a mental note to acquire more furniture.
"Everyone please!" she calls for silence. When the last of murmurs fade like gentle waves lapping at the shore, she explains everything that has happened since October 23, from Vault-Tec's experimentation to her husband's subsequent opening of Vault 111.
Confusion lapses to shock as she talks. A few people call out questions about the state of the world, if they can go home since it's been eight months since the bombs dropped, if the USA has recovered yet to smash the Reds. Beside Kaelyn, Nate shuffles in his seat, crossing and uncrossing his arms. He doesn't facepalm, but from from the way his fingers twitch she's suspicious he wants to.
No one else volunteers to burst these people's hopes, so Kaelyn steps up to do the job. The US Government has fallen, they can go home if they so please but surface conditions are dangerous, and it's highly unlikely there's enough left of the armed forces to marshal a retaliation.
That, of course, does not garner a good reaction.
"So we're stuck here?" someone calls.
"If you go up there, you'll die!"
"I still can't believe it… nuclear war…"
There's nothing to do but let them air their despair.
After a few minutes, Brenner rises to her feet to catch the room's attention. "I have a motion to put before everyone." Her voice is formal, her gaze direct yet cool, as she glances from face to face. "We need some kind of governance. Someone who can step into disputes as a third party and resolve them, if nothing else. To that end, I suggest we name the person who has already worked to keep the peace: Kaelyn Prescott."
Her thoughts momentarily stop at Shock Station and the train breaks down.
Her, lead the vault?
This is more than winning her client's freedom, but guarding these people's very lives.
Under the eyes that suddenly swing in her direction, Kaelyn straightens under the scrutiny, schools her expression, crosses her ankles under the table. From Nate's expression, Brenner hadn't consulted with him beforehand, either.
Brenner calls, "All in favor?"
Hawthorne's hands remain by his sides, fixed to his ribs by the pins of resentment. A few of the strangers from Concord also keep their hands lowered, but that's to be expected. Mr Russell's half-raised arm is begrudging at best, and Mr Able only raises his at a prod from his wife. Conversely, Mrs Conway raises her hand so enthusiastically that she almost takes off her husband's ear. Nate, of course, casts his vote in her favor, and Brenner abstains as the party who raised the motion.
Even without a head count, it's an obvious majority. Years in the courtroom have imparted a tight control over not only her expression but also her posture, but shock cracks the walls of her resolve with a fine yet persistent chisel.
Under the table, Nate takes her hand. Shaun peers out from his lap, his eyes casting about the room until he finds his mother and he lets out a squeal. "See?" Nate teases. "Shaun, for one, welcomes his new leader."
"So what do we call ya?" Hawthorne leans against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. "Overseer?"
"That does sound rather domineering," Kaelyn admits. "Title to be announced."
Ducking her head to hide her smirk, Brenner calls, "Speech?"
"Speech!"
Thank goodness for all those improvised debate classes in law school. Kaelyn clears her throat and glances from face to face, meeting each one. "In all honesty, this is not what I expected when I walked into this room tonight. But then, this isn't what any of us expected when we signed up for Vault 111, or when we woke up on October 23rd. But this is where we are now, and where we go from here will be charted by us. It won't be easy, but what we have here is more of a chance than many others had."
In the corner of her eye, Nate bows his head.
"This isn't a dictatorship, nor is it an army. Every single voice matters. Regarding issues that involve the entirety of the vault, it will be voted on and I'll abide by the will of the majority."
After the furor has died down, Kaelyn mills to talk to the people who approach her, bequeathing each one with a smile. The Fishers congratulate her, as do Mrs Able and Ms Rosa. Others, like the unfamiliar folks from Concord, want to be introduced and gauge their new leader. After an appropriate amount of socializing, she slips out from the cramped stuffiness of the mess to the cool darkness of the corridor.
"Dylan."
Brenner doesn't appear surprised to be waylaid, swiveling to lean against the wall, one leg crossed. "My first thought was to discuss it with you, but then I thought it would be better if they saw your surprise. So they'd know we haven't collaborated to install you in the position."
It makes sense, even if Kaelyn would have preferred a measure of warning. Even a teaspoon's worth of it. "I understand. Now I have to live up to the faith you've all put in me."
"That right there is why you're a good pick. Not to say nobody else here is qualified, but I don't know any of your neighbors and civilians get pissy when a military force assumes control. I'd rather bet on a known, you know?"
"I suppose I already have a decent poker face for dealing with frustrating people," she concedes.
"That's the spirit." Brenner drapes an arm around her shoulders. "You've got this."
Perhaps fortuitously, doubt only sinks its fangs into Kaelyn when she and her family have retreated to inspect the Overseer's quarters. Kaelyn wanders to the center of the room and halts. Every breath graces her with the peculiar aroma of ice, mold and dust.
Now Nate looks up from the bed, where he's toying with Shaun's kicking legs. "Way I see it, you're getting recognition for being the unsung mediator."
"I just— I'm a lawyer, not a politician."
"We don't need more politicians, frankly. Think of it as an admin job. You get all of the, uh, bad parts of being a secretary with none of the perks."
Kaelyn chuckles. "You sure know how to sell a job."
"Hon. You've got this. Didn't you say that when I came back it's my turn to look after Shaun while you go back to work? You just got your wish. And I, for one, appreciate the new digs."
Kaelyn walks a circuit of the Overseer's office. It's nothing like her cramped office at the firm; there are no bookshelves, no fake potted plants standing sentinel in the corners, no carpets to muffle the click of her heels. As much as the sounds of continuous traffic used to creep through the window to disrupt her, she only now realizes how preferable it is to a dripping quiet. She runs her fingers along the veneer of the Overseer's desk. It's twice the size of her desk in the firm, and yet perhaps the true marvel is that it is clean. Besides his terminal, pens and a Vault Boy bobblehead, the desk is clutter-free. Whether it will stay that way is another matter.
Hers. This is all hers. As is the bedroom behind her. Now all she has to do is earn it.
Kaelyn rests her hands on the jewelry box Nate rescued, sitting on what is now her desk, and bows her head as she thinks of her friends. Susan may have been spared the worst of it in her family's home, but Padma and Andrea are in the city…
She wonders where her tatta and brother are. If they're even still alive. Somehow, her tempestuous relationship with both of them only makes it harder to contemplate that they're probably gone.
Forgive me, Amma.
Before the grief can overwhelm her, Nate strolls in, balancing Shaun against his shoulder. Their baby cries out in delight when he sees her and grasps at her blouse the moment she's within reach.
"Hello, my little man." Kaelyn kisses the top of his head, then stretches on her toes to kiss Nate's cheek. "Hello, my big man."
His response is to kiss her properly. Kaelyn certainly can't complain.
Nate turns in a slow circle, whistling. "Your office is nicer than mine." As Vault 111's one-man security team, his own office had been a cramped little space near the cryogenic arrays. Before they'd agreed to move his desk into the Overseer's office, freeing up the old security office for more beds.
"Jealous?" she teases.
His eyes soften. "Proud, actually."