This one took a while. But finally, some action.

I need a drink. It had not been a good week for Emily. Her report on Mexico had gone easily enough, but her attempt to convince the Followers that they should send a party east had gone less than well. It still made her angry to think about. Even her old friend Daniel hadn't been on her side. They were grateful for the survival guide she had bought; and were reproducing it to distribute to their other locations, but that was where their interest in the Capital Wasteland ended. She had felt mildly patronized by the tone of her colleagues when she broached the idea of going there. As if she didn't know the dangers inherent in a cross-country expedition. So there she sat, staring at her computer screen in her room. It was a Friday night, and so far it showed no signs of being memorable. Maybe a trip to the Four-Horned Bull was in order. That was the regular haunt for Followers in Shady Sands, and had a decent menu as well as drinks. As if hearing her thoughts, Daniel Parker appeared in her doorway.

"A group of us are going to the Four-Horned Bull for dinner, Em. You should come with us, get out of this room." She laughed.

"I was just thinking that, Dan. Let me get changed and I'll meet you down in the lobby," she replied as she rose from her chair. In private she and Parker had a much more relaxed relationship than how they acted in front of new members. Daniel shut the door as he left and Emily began to strip down. She was in a strange mood. Something sexy, she thought, looking in her closet. She had a nice dress that she wore occasionally, with a low neckline that complemented her cleavage, before ending at mid-thigh, showing off legs that could have been on a woman 10 years younger. She was tall, somewhere around 5'10, and the height ran in her family. She paused for a moment, debating how sexy she wanted to dress that night. What the hell, she thought as she opened a drawer and pulled out a rare set of lingerie. It was the polar opposite from how she normally dressed, but she still liked to get dressed up once in a while. Besides, maybe there will be someone halfway decent out there. She grabbed her clutch and, making sure she had enough money in it, headed to the lobby to meet the others.

John stared down at the two marble stones in front of him. He had retrieved the marble from the ruins of the Capitol and had them engraved at the Citadel with a cutting laser when he and the Brotherhood had been on better terms.

James Thompson September 21, 2226-December 3, 2277

Janice Kaplinski August 3, 2248-December 3, 2277

He still remembered the day as if it had just happened. Col. August shooting Janice. His father flooding the room with radiation. The desperate flight to the Citadel, his first time there. He looked up from the gravestones to observe the area. He was alone. Jericho had gone ahead to wait for him at Rivet City. He had found the raider heading to Moriarty's and hadn't had a hard time convincing him to go to Rivet City. John hadn't mentioned that it would be the last time for a long while that they'd be able to. He could see the carrier off in the distance. In the other direction, and much closer, Project Purity dumped it's load of purified water into the Potomac. Your dream, dad. You and mom. Everyone here is grateful for what you did. And you, Janice. And I miss you. Every day, I miss you. He could still hear his father's voice in his memory…

"Do you know who Tecumseh was, John?"

"An Indian chief?" James laughed.

"Yes, he was a Shawnee chief. But he was more than just that. Can you read this to me?" he asked, sliding an open book across the cafeteria table to John. The young boy picked it up and began to read the passage his father had opened to.

"So live your life that fear of death can never enter your heart," he began falteringly, looking up to his father. James gave him an encouraging nod. He was only 9, and death scared him. "Trouble no one about their religion; respect others in their view, and demand they respect yours. Love your life, perfect your life, beautify all things in your life. Seek to make your life long and its purpose the service of your people. Prepare a noble death song for the day when you go over the great divide," he continued before looking up at James. "Dad, what's that mean? What's the great divide?" James sighed.

"It's the boundary between this life, on Earth, and the afterlife, son," he replied, simplifying it for the 9 year olds sake. "Keep reading," he encouraged.

"Always give a word or a sign of salute when meeting or passing a friend, even a stranger, when in a lonely place. Show respect to all people and grovel to none. Dad, what's grovel mean?" he asked, mispronouncing the word. James chuckled.

"It's grovel, son. And it means to bow to someone, to act like they are better than you." John bobbed his head in understanding.

"When you arise in the morning give thanks for the food and for the joy of living. If you see no reason to give thanks, the fault lies only in yourself. Abuse no one and no thing, for abuse turns the wise ones to fools and robs the spirit of its vision. When it comes your time to die, be not like those whose hearts are filled with fear of death, so that when their time comes they weep and pray for a little more time to live their lives over again in a different way. Sing your death song and die like a hero going home," he concluded, putting the book back down. James looked at him.

"What do you think it means, John?" The boy paused for a second.

"Be nice. Help other people. And don't be afraid to die," he responded earnestly. James smiled at that.

"I think that's most of it," he said. He was immensely proud of he and Catherine's little boy. From an early age he had shown signs of brilliance. He hoped somewhere Catherine could see. "Now let's get back to the room. It's bedtime for you. You have a big day tomorrow! 10 already!" he continued, taking his son's hand as they walked back to their room…

John returned to the present from his memory. It did no good to dwell on things that were gone. His mother, his father, Amata, Sarah. They all went away in the end. Looking back to his father's grave, he spared one final prayer. Guide me, dad. With that he turned to walk away and meet Jericho at Rivet City. It wasn't a long walk there, and there was a much smaller chance of being ambushed these days. He felt optimistic as he made his way toward the floating city. As if seeing his father's grave reminded him of what he was working for again-the safety of the entire Wasteland. He realized now, in retrospect, that his father had used Tecumseh's words as a way to teach John a code to live by, outside of their faith. The sight of Jericho waiting drew him from his thoughts as he approached Rivet City. He stood near the ramp that led to the bridge into the city. John had figured there was a snowball's chance in hell of Jericho going into the city alone. He was tough, not stupid.

"How's the old man doing?" Jericho asked.

"Still dead," John replied as they made their way up the ramps. "Let's get to the Rudder. I need a drink." Jericho laughed at that.

"You're not the only one, kid. It's too damn hot out." As they made their way across the bridge to the ship, John noticed a figure waiting for them. Harkness. This could be trouble. John had helped Harkness out of a tight spot before, and he hoped the android remembered it.

"What are you two doing here?" he asked as they approached.

"Just thought we'd get out of Megaton for a bit. How're you, Harkness?" The android sighed.

"Fine. Both of you stay out of trouble, hear me? No more incidents like last time."

"You got it, boss," John replied as he and Jericho entered the superstructure of the ship. They wound their way through the corridors of the ship, drawing greetings from some of the people in town John was on good terms with. They entered the Muddy Rudder and, before they could reach the bar, were greeted by Belle Bonny.

"If either of you two fucks up my joint like last time, Brock will stomp the shit out of you." She had not been happy about the brawl that happened when John and Jericho had last visited.

"Nice to see you too, Bonny," John replied. Before he could continue, he heard a man's voice from off to the side call him something he hadn't been called in years.

"Yo JJ! What're you doing here?!" John whipped around to see Butch DeLoria, surrounded by a crowd of blue and yellow jumpsuits, all with 101 emblazoned on them. He was too shocked to say anything, caught off guard by the people he had grown up with. After a moment he found his voice.

"Butch, didn't I tell you that I'd fuck you up if you called me that again?" he growled. The smile faded from Butch's face, replaced by a look of surprise.

"Jeez, sorry man…" he began before John cut him off.

"I'm messing with you, Butch. It's great to see you guys," he said, breaking into a wide smile as he walked toward his old friends. He grabbed Butch's hand and quickly embraced him, before turning to face Susie Mack and wrapping her up in a huge hug before letting go. "Susie! How have you been? And you, Christine?" The introductions were made for those that hadn't met as they made their way to the bar and ordered the first round. John was so distracted by his happiness at seeing his old friends that he didn't notice the group of Brotherhood members filing into the back of the bar.

The night had been much livelier at the Four-Horned Bull than it would have been back in her room. Emily had been able to forget some of the frustration she had felt that week over dinner and drinks with her friends. And she had noticed a man at the bar, socializing with those around him but otherwise alone. He was tall and lean, with sandy blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. She had been glancing at him all night, and had caught him eyeing her, although he had quickly glanced away when she looked toward him. This had not gone unnoticed by Julie Moore, one of Emily's best friends.

"Are you just going to eye-fuck that guy all night, or talk to him?" she asked, leaning forward so the others wouldn't hear. Emily laughed.

"What do you think I should do?"

"Maybe walk over and introduce yourself? He's been checking you out all night, you look hot. Do it," Julie urged. Emily rolled her eyes.

"Fine," she replied, standing up. "Watch my stuff." Adjusting her dress, she made her way over to the man. He noticed her approaching and turned to face her.

"Hello there," he said, preempting her greeting.

"Emily," she said, extending her hand. He took it lightly in his. "What's your name?" He smiled at her.

"You have to promise not to laugh," he said. She raised her eyebrows at him.

"Ok…promise."

"Achilles. My name is Achilles." The corner of her lip twitched up, but she remained impassive, staring the man in the eyes.

"Is there a story behind that?" she asked as she pulled up a seat.

"There is. I need a drink first, though. What're you having?"

"Whatever you are."

"Scotch work?" She nodded her assent. "Hey, Davy, two scotches down here." The bartender made the drinks quickly and served them neat.

"So what's the story?" Emily asked. The man laughed.

"My dad was the teacher in the town I grew up in. Little place, on the border with the NCR. Anyway, the old man was a smart guy, read everything he could. And he loved The Iliad. So he named me after his favorite character in it."

"Fair enough," she replied, sipping her drink.

"My turn," Achilles replied. "What's your story?"

"My story is long," she began. She took another sip from her drink, and then started from when she was 18.

They were into their third round of drinks before John realized who else was in the bar with them. He had heard a voice behind him, one that was familiar. Shooting a glance over his shoulder, he had seen Sarah Lyons, back turned to him. He'd seen her from that angle enough to recognize her without seeing her face. The people around her gave it away. The huge black man was Kodiak, and he could see the face of Colvin over Sarah's shoulder. Shit. This could get ugly. He tried to push the thought out of his mind as he turned back to his friends. They had spent their time catching up over the drinks, talking about the Vault and the changes there, old friends who had come and gone, childhood memories. After enough time had passed that John thought he wouldn't sound pathetic, he asked what was on his mind.

"How's Amata doing, Susie?" She smiled as Christine laughed.

"She's good, JJ. Working too hard. We asked her to come tonight, but she didn't feel comfortable leaving the Vault."

"God dammit," John swore. Susie laughed.

"Still miss her, huh?"

"Yeah. Every day. Give her my love, ok?"

"I will, JJ. Don't worry about it. What's going on…"

"Holy shit. Look who it is. John Thompson," a woman's voice interrupted. Dusk, he thought. She always was a bitch. He spun around to see Dusk, and the rest of the Lyons' Pride, sidling up to the bar. There were three new faces, but the rest he recognized.

"Hi, Dawn," he responded with mock sweetness. She scowled. He saw Sarah staring at him. The awkwardness there was palpable. Next to her was a big man that John didn't recognize. The orientation of his body to Sarah's, the proximity, the awkwardness of the eye contact with John…so this is who she's banging now. Big fucker.

"Hi, Sarah," he said, nodding at her. "How's your dad?" That drew a round of glares from the Pride. The only one that didn't look like he wanted to throw down was Colvin.

"He's fine. And you?" she replied. This is just as terse as the last time we spoke.

"Just loving life in Megaton. Catching up with some old friends here." There was a brief moment of silence before he turned to Bonny. The look on her face made it clear she didn't like where this was going. He could see Brock tensing up, preparing to break up anything that may happen.

"Bonny, put my old squad's next round on my tab," he said. Turning back to the Pride, he raised his whiskey in a salute before shooting it. "Enjoy your drinks, guys. If you'll excuse me," he trailed off, turning back to the group from the Vault. They looked concerned. The only one who didn't was Jericho, looking down at his drink.

"Not this shit again," he muttered under his breath before finishing the glass.

"Everything cool, JJ?" Butch asked worriedly. John didn't want to drag his friends into his grudge with the Brotherhood. Before he could respond, a voice behind him spoke up.

"JJ? They call you JJ?" John turned to find the big man laughing.

"Yeah, they do. And who the fuck are you?" There was an intake of breath from behind him.

"Fuck, here we go," Jericho muttered, somewhat bitterly, before rising from his chair. John heard him approaching his side. The smile disappeared from the man's face.

"McPherson. Knight-Captain Liam McPherson," he replied.

"Knight-Captain, huh? Looks like you outrank me," John said, laughing. "You look too big to be a Wasteland recruit, so I'm guessing you came from California?"

"I did," he replied proudly.

"Funny, I don't remember seeing you in the war," John said. Sarah stepped between them and, facing McPherson, put a hand on his chest.

"Liam, drop it. The Elder will be seriously pissed if anything happens," she said. McPherson took a step back. John couldn't drop it, though. The alcohol was loosening the control he'd normally have over his emotions. He was still pissed at them for using him as their lackey.

"Were you one of the ones that used to come in and act like you'd done something after Fawkes and I cleared an area?" he yelled across the room. The Brotherhood stopped moving and stared at him. The anger was obvious in their eyes.

"You and your pet Frankenstein wouldn't have done shit without us," Dusk spat. John sneered at her.

"You were a great taxi service. Does it bother you knowing a super-mutant did more for the Wasteland in nine months than you lot did in 20 years?" Hit a nerve with that one. McPherson moved passed Sarah, who had stopped restraining him.

"We spilled our blood for 20 years for these people. We've done more for them than you ever have. We didn't abandon them as soon as we could," he said.

"You have never been better than me at anything," John fired back, stepping forward.

"Well, here we go…" Jericho said. John and McPherson sized each other up. He's big and looks strong. Hopefully slow and over confident. To the side, Kodiak was convincing Brock that this was just between the two men. McPherson moved in first, driving in and attempting to tackle John. He side stepped and McPherson spun to face him. He was much lighter on his feet than John expected. He fell into a boxer's stance, the way Officer Gomez had taught him back in the Vault as McPherson came in. The big man feinted with his left and John bit on it. He had time to realize his mistake and brace himself slightly before a right hand smashed into his face. He staggered back, hearing the Brotherhood cheering as McPherson closed on him. He threw a wide hook, which John rolled under on instinct. As the punch flew over his head, he drove a hook home into the man's ribs. McPherson grunted and stepped back before resuming the assault. John had not expected him to be so fast. McPherson was obviously well trained, and John's rustiness was catching up to him. He tried to distract McPherson with a left before hurling a right at him. It was easily blocked, and McPherson stepped in, grabbing John by the collar and necklace and slamming a right hand into his face, breaking John's nose. As John fell to the ground, dazed, he felt the necklace rip from around his neck.

Amata gave me that, motherfucker! McPherson stepped toward John without any urgency, confident in his victory. Rage flashed through John's mind, suppressing the pain and focusing his mind.

"Get him, Liam!" he heard Dusk yell. Bitch. McPherson approached John, lying on his back, and made a catastrophic mistake. He stepped over John's legs, and as he leaned forward to grab John and pull him up, he drove a kick into the man's groin. McPherson doubled over, howling in pain. Before he could move John booted him in the face with all his strength. McPherson fell back onto the floor, blood streaming down his face. John heard a yell of excitement from the Vault dwellers.

"Atta boy, JJ!" Butch yelled. John scrambled over McPherson and, pinning him down, drove a right hand into his face. The man's nose broke under the force of it. Then a second. And a third. He felt McPherson's orbital fracture under the blows. John grunted as he drove another punch into the now unconscious man's face. The bar had gone silent except for the sound of John's punches finding their mark.

"Get off him, you psycho!" a woman yelled. Before John could respond, something slammed into his head; blurring his vision and knocking him off McPherson. Rolling to his back, he saw Dusk holding a bottle of liquor. Must have been what she clubbed me with. Before the woman could make another move, all hell broke loose. Christine Kendall and Susie Mack slammed into her, driving her into the ground and tearing into her with all the ferocity of a Deathclaw. The two sides set upon each other as Bonny ran to call security. The only people not engaging were Sarah and Colvin, who were desperately trying to pull the Brotherhood members back.

"Stop it! All of you stop!" Sarah yelled, to no avail. As John scanned the room, still dazed, he saw Jericho squaring off with Kodiak as Butch faced down a man John didn't recognize. John staggered to his feet and stumbled across the room to help Jericho, stepping around Susie and Christine screeching and clawing at Dusk. Jericho had Kodiak's full attention, and was caught off guard when John leapt on his back and put him in a chokehold. Kodiak stumbled back as Jericho punched the man in the solar plexus, knocking some of the wind out of him. Kodiak, unable to pry John from around his neck, did the only thing left to him and threw himself backwards, crushing John under his weight. He felt several ribs crack as the huge man fell on him, releasing his hold. Before Kodiak could take advantage of the situation, Rivet City security flooded into the room, led by Harkness.

"Break it up! All of you break it up!" he yelled as his men set about breaking up the fight. John was pulled to his feet by Jericho and Butch, instantly doubling over in pain as Harkness looked at him, his anger obvious.

"You did this again? After I specifically asked you not to?"

"…didn't…start it," John gasped out.

"Christ, this guy is fucked up, Chief," a security officer called out as they examined McPherson. Colvin and Kodiak put him under their shoulders and carried him from the room.

"We need to get him back to the Citadel. Sorry about the mess, chief," Sarah said as her men left. She shot a glance at John, a mix of anger and sadness in her eyes.

"Alright, Sentinel. Hope your guy is ok," Harkness replied as they filed out. Before she left, John managed to gasp out a goodbye.

"Nice…seeing you, Sarah. Sorry…bout your boyfriend." She looked back at him, her displeasure obvious.

"John…grow the fuck up." And with that, she left. Harkness turned to face John as Susie and Christie made their way to his side.

"Can't have you doing stuff like this, John. I'm sorry, and I like you, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave and not come back for a year. We can't have Brotherhood members being assaulted in our city."

"Typical," John grunted. "I'm going to need help getting home," he continued, addressing Butch and Jericho.

"Yeah, I'd say so," Jericho responded. "Nice job taking that Brotherhood prick, though." As they helped John to the door, he bid a last farewell to Harkness.

"Have a nice year…A3-21," he said as they turned to leave. He heard Harkness sigh before addressing Susie.

"Anyone else from Vault 101 is welcome here, Ms. Mack," he said.

"That's ok, Chief. We'll stick to Megaton from now on. You exile one of us, you exile all of us." And with that they filed through the ship, beginning the walk back to Megaton. John was by far the worst off of the group, the rest escaping with at most minor injuries.

"You sure have a way with people, JJ," she said as they walked under a bright moon.

It had turned out Achilles was Emily's sort of guy. Tall, handsome, smart…a bit young, maybe, but not so much that it would be weird. She could see her friends getting ready to leave, and she didn't want to walk home alone.

"Are you going to be in town long, Achilles?" she asked. He had mentioned traveling a fair bit for his work, but he had been vague about it.

"Another week here, then down to the Mojave for a little bit before coming back. I'm in town frequently enough, though."

"And do you have plans this weekend?" she asked.

"I was hoping I'd have plans to take you to dinner tomorrow night," he responded, smiling. She laughed.

"Sounds good to me. Want to meet me at the Followers' building at 6?" she asked, rising from her chair. He stood from his as she did, taking her hand.

"It's a date, Ms. McPherson. I'll see you then." Smiling, and blushing slightly, she turned to walk toward her friends. Julie was waiting for her, smiling.

"Told you so. He's still checking you out," she said as Emily approached, drawing more blushing.

"We're getting dinner tomorrow night," she informed Julie.

"Good. It's about time you got out there," she replied as they made their way out into the night and back home.

The trip home was miserable. John was coughing up blood, and the fact that he had vomited as well made him suspect he had a concussion as well as internal injuries. As they approached Megaton's gate, Susie and the others began to peel off. John had been lapsing in and out of consciousness the entire way as Jericho and Butch half carried, half dragged him across the Wastes. Before leaving Susie stepped in front of John and took his face in her hands. He looked at her through partially swollen and blackened eyes.

"Hey, JJ," she began softly. She was concerned at how fucked up he was. "We have to go home. But we'll try and come see you soon. Just heal up, ok?" He nodded slightly, clearly disoriented, before trying to speak.

"Tell…Amata…" he whispered. She nodded.

"I will. Don't you worry." She and the others left, heading towards 101, leaving Jericho and Butch to drag John to the Clinic. It was approaching 1 AM and Doc Church was not happy to be woken up. The displeasure was replaced by shock as he saw how messed up John was.

"Good God, what the hell did you guys do now?" he asked as they carried John in and laid him on a bed.

"Fight in Rivet City," Jericho said.

"Brotherhood again?" Doc asked. Jericho grunted in confirmation. Doc turned to face the raider before continuing. "Go get Lucy West and bring her back down here. Don't do anything to alarm her though, ok?" Jericho nodded and left the clinic to find her. John's eyes fluttered open as they spoke. He saw Doc Church and looked concerned before speaking.

"Doc…set my nose then…take me to the bomb."

"The fuck are you talking about, kid?"

"Trust…me," he wheezed. Doc shrugged as Butch looked on in confusion.

"Fair enough," Doc said, setting John's nose and drawing a cry of pain. Turning to Butch, he spoke. "Gonna need you to help me carry him out to the bomb."

"Water…" John gasped. "Put me in the water," he continued, slightly more clearly. "Butch…let me have your Pip-Boy." Butch looked slightly put off by that, but didn't complain, handing John the wrist computer as he and the Doc hauled John to his feet and carried him to the pool of water surrounding the bomb.