So there's a pseudo-sex scene in this chapter. Treat me gentle. As always, reviews and feedback are welcome and appreciated!

John sat on the edge of the overlook, the door that led to Vault 101's entrance at his back. He had listened quietly while Fawkes explained everything he had seen on his travels. John had absorbed it all, idly scratching Dogmeat behind the ears as they watched the sunset. The dog didn't get to leave Megaton much anymore, so John had opted to bring him on the short trip. He felt bad; as he was sure the pup must get bored being stuck in Megaton. He had always enjoyed going out with John on some adventure.

The cogs began to turn in the living legend's head after Fawkes had finished speaking. Fawkes, too, had changed in the two years since they had seen each other. His voice was less gravely, and he moved much more fluidly. It was as if he had grown into his body on his travels. Pondering what Fawkes had told him, John couldn't help but feel a surge of anger at Elder Lyons and Scribe Rothchild. Not mentioning the existence of the Legion may have been excusable, as they were apparently a recent phenomenon. But there was no good reason that he hadn't been told about the NCR. An entire nation, expanding rapidly and bringing old world values with them. A place where society was rebuilding, at long last. Resting on the ground between him and Fawkes were some of the gifts that the mutant had brought back-a book and various holotapes on the history of the NCR, as well as assorted music that was popular in the West. That would provide a welcome change from GNR. John mindlessly stretched his left leg out and began to massage his knee. Fawkes didn't fail to notice it.

"It never healed fully, did it?" he asked.

"No. Apparently that mutation is more applicable to bones and soft tissue than to ligaments. Couldn't tell you why." Exposure to an ungodly amount of radiation while assisting Moira Brown in the survival guide had led to a mutation that granted him extremely rapid healing of injuries. For some reason, though, it had never healed what John assumed was a severely damaged ACL.

"There are people I met on my travels who would be able to treat it. Medicine is actually beginning to progress again in the NCR," Fawkes said. John looked at him.

"For everyone, or the extremely wealthy?"

"The Followers of the Apocalypse treat all, regardless of wealth," Fawkes replied. He had spoken highly of them to John, obviously impressed with their goals and methods. They sound like people we could use here, he thought. For the first time in years, John felt a familiar feeling: urgency. He needed to know more. He would begin by reviewing all the information that Fawkes had brought him. Outside that, though…he could think of only one option.

"It sounds like I should go there myself," he said. Fawkes' face betrayed no surprise at that.

"I do not want you to think I am encouraging any course of action, my friend. It is a long journey. Will your knee be able to handle it?"

"I'll make do. Especially if it being fixed for good is the prize at the end of the road."

"Another thing to consider, my friend. You are a legend here. I am known as your friend and ally. That will be different in the West. There, I am known and you would be my friend and ally. Are you prepared for that? I do not mean to imply that you are arrogant; but you are a proud man, John." He smiled at that.

"Fame grows wearisome, Fawkes. I miss being nobody."

"Even before you grew into a legend, you were not a nobody, John. Every life has some inherent value to it." John smiled at that.

"You almost sound like you've been talking to Leo, Fawkes."

"He is one of the people I intend to find first. Before we leave, I should like to see him and tell him of Jacobstown." It was John's turn to be taken aback, now.

"Before we leave?"

"I have known you for nearly three years, John. I can tell when you are plotting a course of action. You intend to sign on as a caravan guard to head west, I assume. I would be a poor friend, indeed, were I to let you walk blindly into an area I know well." John smiled at that. Fawkes had accurately predicted his course of action. First, though, John wanted to read and learn about the New California Republic. The sun was beginning to sink below the horizon, and even now traveling at night was not advisable.

"Are you sleeping in Megaton, Fawkes?" he asked, rising to his feet.

"Yes. Sheriff Simms was kind enough to allow me to stay in the common room," he replied, coming to his feet as well. John gave a backward glance at the wooden door that led to Vault 101's entrance. When he left Megaton he came here more often than he'd like to admit. The place still held emotional significance for him. It was where he had first seen the sun. And here, even if he couldn't see her, he was close to Amata. With Dogmeat bounding ahead, the duo that had saved the Wasteland made their way home. And for the first time in recent memory, John felt purpose again.

They made the trek back to Megaton unharassed. Crossing through the gate, John bid goodnight to Fawkes before turning to his house. He had grown increasingly excited on their walk back to town. He had thought that with the war over there was nothing left for him to do. But now…now there was something to see. He had assumed, perhaps naïvely, that civilization had been so thoroughly obliterated by the Great War that what remained existed as it did in the Capital Wasteland. As they had walked back to town, John had begun to analyze what Fawkes had told him. Two expansionist powers were locked in a war over control of a vital natural resource and, ultimately, a region. Apparently society had survived well enough out west that it had begun emulating the old world again. Either way, one faction was destined for victory. NCR, and there would be no remaining organized obstacles between them and the East Coast, only geography. If the Legion emerged victorious, they would likely be occupied attempting to subdue the NCR for some time. But eventually they, too, would turn east, if Fawkes was to be believed; and in the course of their time together John had never been given reason to not trust him. Someday war would come again to the Capital, and unless something dramatic happened, they would be totally unprepared. John would be damned if he would let the dream his father died for be snuffed out by some Western boy scouts or a bunch of historically inaccurate reenactors. He had to see it for himself, though. That was all he could think. He was drawn from his thoughts as he entered his house. Lucy was sitting at the table, listening to the radio and drinking a beer, which was rare for her. Dogmeat padded over to her, putting his head in her lap and begging a petting out of her. She looked up at John as she did. There was a look in his eyes that she hadn't seen in years; certainly not in all the time they had been sleeping together. Fire. He looks alive again, she thought.

"What're you doing? He asked her, dropping his books and holotapes on the table as he did, before pulling up a chair to face her.

"Oh, just getting ready to listen to my favorite radio show," she replied, smiling wickedly.

"Daring Dashwood and Argyle?" he asked. She laughed.

"Not quite," she replied, nodding toward the radio.

"It's the adventures of the Lone Wanderer, John Thompson, and his loyal gang of ruffians!" the radio blared out. John groaned.

"Ugh, not that guy. I hear he's an asshole in real life. Three Dog told me so." Lucy laughed at that.

"Oh, I don't know. He can be ok. Now, if he just bails out without laying me at least one last time, he'll be an asshole." John sighed before smiling faintly at her.

"What makes it so obvious?" He saw no reason to try and deny it. He would have to talk to her about it eventually. He wouldn't know how long he had left in town until he could radio Joanne, but he didn't think it would be too long.

"The look in your eyes. You look like you did when we first met. A bit scruffier, though…" she said, making a face. "I haven't even seen that look in your eyes when we fuck."

"I'm sorry. I haven't heard you complaining, though…"

"I'm not complaining. You know what you're doing. Although I am curious if it would be different with you like this…"

"Well, there's only one way to find out," he replied, resting a hand on her leg as he leaned forward to kiss her. She returned it, lightly meeting his tongue with hers before pulling away.

"How much longer do we have?" she whispered as she rose to her feet.

"I don't know," he replied. "I have to talk to Joanne tomorrow," he continued as he pulled her shirt off, revealing a pair of very nicely shaped breasts. They're a perfect handful, he thought as he ran his hands over her. She shivered slightly and bit her lip as she undid the buttons on his shirt.

"Who's Joanne?" she asked as she pulled his shirt off.

"Caravan contact," he replied as he leaned forward to kiss her breasts. A sigh escaped her lips as he did.

"Aroo?!" Dogmeat was staring at them, head cocked quizzically. John couldn't help but laugh.

"Maybe we should go upstairs," he said, grabbing Lucy and picking her up. She wrapped her legs around his body and began kissing his neck as he carried her upstairs. This isn't good for the knee, he thought as they reached his room. He threw her down on the bed before falling on top of her, unbuttoning her pants while he kissed her with increasing urgency. She slid her hands down the front of his pants, finding him ready for her. John sat up to peel her pants off before standing so she could finish undressing him, admiring the view all the while. Lucy was quite fit, and what little body hair she naturally had she removed. She stood to meet him as his pants fell to the ground, throwing her arms around his neck as he wrapped her in his arms and kissed her. This is different, she thought. Their sex had always been fun and satisfying, but this felt…passionate. As if a sudden reengagement with the world was spilling over into every other aspect of his being. Lucy turned so that his back was to the bed and pushed against his chest, hard enough so he knew to lie down. The alcohol, coupled with the increasingly passionate foreplay, was adding to her confidence. She wanted to take charge; give him something to remember on the road. And yes, something to come back to, she hoped.

An hour later they lay in bed, energy spent. That was incredible, Lucy thought as she idly traced a pattern over John's still muscular chest. She liked his relative lack of body hair. The sex had been different than anything they had done before. Urgent, and passionate, and a hundred other little things. He had even been vocal, saying her name while she rode him. For her part, she had been so loud she was surprise Lucas Simms hadn't come over to make sure she wasn't being hurt. She looked up at John's face; saw him staring at the ceiling. He was thinking about something.

"You ok?" she whispered softly.

"I feel like a person waking up from a coma. Like I've been dreaming for longer than I can remember. And now everything is real again, and it's all a shock," he replied, looking down to her. The dim light of the lamp was enough to see by, and they looked into each other's eyes. Hers clear and blue; his, green…and was it just her, or did they look more golden than normal?

"I don't know what made you hide away, after the war, but I like this new-old you," she said, leaning forward to kiss his chest. He pulled her closer as she did. And they lay together, trying to silently puzzle out what had just happened, until sleep overtook them.

The dawn's light was peeking in when John woke up. Lucy was lying on her side, facing away from him and sleeping peacefully. John slid out of bed and, hobbling to his chair, went through his morning routine of loosening up and Med-X. While waiting for the Med-X to take effect, he went through his mental checklist of what he needed to do that day. Radio Joanne and see about signing on to the next caravan. Talk to Lucas and tell him I'm leaving. And then…depending how long he had, make the goodbye rounds. He figured he'd see if Jericho wanted to do Rivet City one last time. Maybe call on Three Dog for old time's sake. First things first, though. Pulling on a pair of boxer-briefs, he limped out to his rooftop patio and, sinking to a knee, began his morning prayers.

Finishing, he sat back in his chair to watch the sunrise. He was restless, though. He wanted the sun to come up enough that he could begin the day. He hadn't felt this sort of restlessness since he was a child on Christmas Eve. I'm overreacting to this, he thought. The book, I'll start there. He limped back inside and down to his kitchen, where he had left the book Fawkes had given him. Sitting down, he picked it up and began reading. It had been published in 2241, so the information it contained would be dated. Still, it would provide a foundation to build his plans on. He spent the morning like that, quietly reading until he heard Lucy stirring upstairs. She walked into the kitchen, still naked, and looked at him.

"Good book? She asked.

"Not as good as you look," he replied, smiling. She beckoned him toward her before turning and walking back up the stairs. This could be a fun way to pass the time, he though as he walked into his room to see her waiting on the bed for him.

By the time they had finished it was finally late enough to begin putting his plan in action.

"I'm going to go use Lucas' radio to talk to Joanne," he told Lucy as they both got dressed.

"Want to meet down by the bomb after?" she asked.

"I don't know how long I'll be, but sure," he replied as he buttoned his shirt. She reached up to kiss him before walking down the stairs to leave. A moment later he heard the door open and shut. John paused for a moment before turning to leave. Last night had felt…different. This wasn't good. It would not due to let himself get attached to Lucy when he was leaving soon. And there's still Amata…

Amata's gone, you idiot. Stop living in denial.

I'm not in denial, I'm optimistic.

And how are you still an optimist after all you've done?

Oh, just shut up and get on with the task at hand! He shut off the dialogue in his head as he walked down the stairs.

"Dogmeat! Come on, boy!" The dog sprung to his feet and trotted over to John's side as he stepped out the door. The heat hit him like a wall as he did. Ah, summer in the capital. He did not have a hard time finding Lucas Simms. He was standing near the crater, casually conversing with Fawkes. They turned to greet him as he approached, Lucas tipping his hat in greeting.

"Morning, sheriff," John began, extending his hand. Before Lucas could reply, John continued. "Mind if I use the radio? I have someone I need to talk to." Lucas chuckled.

"I figured you might, after talking to Fawkes here," he replied. "You know where it is. Go ahead and let yourself in."

"Appreciate it, sheriff. I'll be back in a few," John replied as he turned to walk to Simms's house. He and Fawkes watched John walk away.

"He almost looks like his old self, Fawkes," the sheriff began. "I don't know what you told him, but it worked better than anything I did."

"I simply reminded him there was a greater world, beyond the Wasteland. He needed to know there was still a way to find meaning in his life. He had been harboring some ideas for some time. I merely lit the spark that started the fire," the mutant replied.

John returned 15 minutes later to find Lucas and Fawkes sitting at the Brass Lantern, talking with Lucy as she ate breakfast. They turned to face him as he approached.

"July 17th," he said, not elaborating further. Fawkes just nodded, while Lucy couldn't help but look slightly downcast.

"Did you tell her I am coming?" Fawkes asked.

"Yes. Part of me thinks she only agreed to me doing it because you're coming." Fawkes shrugged.

"It is possible, I suppose," he replied. Lucas' face betrayed a hint of confusion as he chimed in.

"Can you tell me what you're talking about, John?"

"I will be leaving town, and the Capital, on July 17th, Lucas. I don't know when I'll return; but please, don't tell anyone else." Lucas' eyes widened slightly in surprise.

"Where are you going?"

"West. Where exactly remains to be seen." Lucas nodded, slightly apprehensively.

"Well, we'll miss having you here," he said, standing as he did. "If you need anything before you go, just say the word." John smiled.

"Thanks, sheriff," he replied as Lucas turned to leave. John turned back to Lucy and Fawkes. What friends I have, he thought. A giant super-mutant and a petite blonde.

"Time to begin putting my affairs in order, Fawkes. I'm going to Rivet City this afternoon."

"I will head north to find Leo, then," Fawkes replied. John nodded.

"Check the Oasis. I think he's living there most of the time," John said. "I'll need you to tell me what I should bring, as well." Fawkes grunted.

"Weapons. Armor. Water. Caps," he responded concisely. John chuckled.

"Just like old times, huh?"

"Indeed, my friend," he said. "I will take my leave now. It is quite a walk to Oasis," he continued, also standing to leave. John was left alone with Lucy. They stared at each other for a moment.

"Two weeks, huh?" she asked. John nodded.

"Two weeks. What do you want to do?" She thought for a moment.

"One last week, then. After that, we stop. I don't want it to hurt any more than it has to when you leave." John frowned at that.

"I'm sorry, Lucy. I don't want to hurt you…" he began.

"I know," she replied. "But it's who you are. You're the Lone Wanderer. Emphasis on lone. And now there might be a new challenge, so you have to go face it. I understand that. You wouldn't be you if you didn't."

For a brief moment John seriously considered not leaving. Images went through his head, as if showing him what a future with Lucy could be. Her walking to meet him in a white dress on their wedding day. Bearing their children. Watching as the Wasteland recovered until it didn't even need the Lone Wanderer and he could just be John Thompson again. But then the images changed. An army approaching. Settlements falling before it. The Wasteland left defenseless and he too old to stop it. Until a new flag, white and red, flew over every settlement in the Capital Wasteland. And that image hardened John's resolve. He knew this was what he had to do.

"One week then, Lucy. When I get back, let's make it count." She smiled.

"Ok," she replied, reaching up to kiss him. "I'm going to go to my place," she continued. "Have a good time in Rivet City. No fights this time, ok?"

"No fights," he confirmed. Lucy turned to walk away. Only once she was safely inside her house did she let the tears fall down.