Amata sat on the examining table in the Vault clinic, idly swinging her feet off the edge. In a chair off to the side, Susie sat fiddling with her Pip-Boy. Elliot and Jane had left to run a test on the blood sample they had collected from Amata. She knew what they were doing, and she knew what the results of the test would be. She had known for a week, since she'd first felt the changes in her body. Still, she had stalled for an extra four days before Elliot finally escorted her to the clinic himself. He was adjusting well to life in the Vault, seemingly relieved at the security of the place and enjoying being surrounded by people his own age. And as a doctor he had been nothing short of a godsend, taking the role of Vault physician and beginning to teach Jane more advanced medical procedures. Jane, for her part, seemed relieved by the change and spent most of her time with Elliot, trying to learn from him. The medic walking back into the room drew both Amata's and Susie's attention. He stood across from her, Jane right behind him, loosely holding a clipboard with several sheets of paper on it. The look on his face told Amata all she needed to know. She had been trying to deny it to herself, telling herself she was imagining things.
"You know what I'm about to tell you?" he asked, an empathetic expression on his face. She nodded and looked at him as tears began to form in her eyes.
"Just say it," she choked out, feebly attempting to maintain her composure. He nodded, glancing at the papers as if he needed reminding before speaking.
"You're pregnant," he said simply. Amata nodded before looking at the ground, tears rolling down her face as her body shook slightly with the sobs. Susie silently walked over and lightly hugged her. Amata quickly regained her composure, looking up at Elliot.
"Due date should be…sometime in April, then?" she asked, as if she needed to be told. She had worked out the math when she had first suspected it.
"Well, according to the information you gave me and the blood work, it's been about four and a half weeks since your last menstrual cycle and approximately two weeks since conception. Due date is projected to be April 15," he replied. "I'm sorry to do this, but these questions are standard procedure: do you know who the father is?" Amata scoffed at that.
"Of course. It's JJ," she replied. It could hardly be anyone else.
"What's John's last name?" Elliot asked. That question surprised Amata.
"Thompson," she quickly replied. Elliot wrote the information on the clipboard.
"And do either of you have hereditary illnesses or genetic defects?"
"I don't. I don't know if JJ has any," she replied Elliot nodded and jotted more on the clipboard. Finally, he looked back at her.
"Alright. It's up to you how to proceed, Amata. I would encourage you to wait until the end of the first trimester to tell anyone. The risk of miscarriage begins to decrease after that. You told me you already have an exercise routine and follow a fairly careful diet, correct?" She nodded at him. "I would recommend you continue exercising, under some supervision and taking into account the stage of pregnancy. Don't overdo it, but staying active will make everything easier. And understand that you'll need to eat quite a bit more now. Does everything I said make sense?"
"Yes," she replied. He smiled wanly at her.
"Good," he said. "I want you to come follow up in two weeks with me," he continued, writing a date on a reminder card before handing it to her. She tried to smile back, through all the emotions. She didn't know how she was supposed to do this. From a place far back in her memory, she heard JJ singing that traditional song he liked. Now you must raise our child with dignity…she immediately crushed the thought. He would come back. This may not have been how she planned things, and she was still upset over how he left, but she had to believe he would come back to her. To more than just me now, she thought, looking down to where her child was growing inside her. Two months. Two months before it becomes obvious. She stood and, closely followed by Susie, made her way to her office. They each sat down, finally able to talk in the privacy of the room. Amata looked up at Susie, staring at her before finally breaking the silence.
"Well, that wasn't part of the plan," she said, a feeble smile cracking through as she spoke. Susie chuckled softly.
"Well, what did you expect? You spent three full days basically screwing nonstop, am I right?" Amata blushed at that.
"It wasn't totally nonstop. We did other things," she replied in a rather halfhearted attempt at a defense. That drew a proper laugh from Susie.
"Right. So you walked around a bit in between banging. Excuse me. Let me guess, you haven't been on birth control in months, have you?" Amata's head dropped at that.
"No," she mumbled. "I stopped taking it months ago. Didn't see a reason."
"And you were probably too wrapped up to tell JJ to pull out, huh? And he probably though you were still taking the pill, anyway. It was bound to happen, Amata." Amata sighed. Susie made perfect sense, of course.
"I'm just not looking forward to telling my dad," she replied. Susie nodded sympathetically.
"Yeah. He never did like JJ, did he?" Amata grimaced and shook her head.
"No. Always thought I could do better."
"Well, he'll have to deal with it," Susie replied. They paused for a moment. "So how was the sex, anyway?" Amata blushed deeply at that.
"It was…different. More emotional. Passionate, I guess? Like now that we had been apart we knew how special it was."
"Good. I really do hope this all works out in the end, Amata. You two belong together," she said, standing to leave.
"Thanks, Susie. I hope it works out too. But I guess I have bigger things to worry about now." Susie nodded at her.
"Yeah, you do. Take care of yourself and the baby now. We're all here for you." And then she left Amata with her thoughts, watching her previously well planned life crumble before her eyes.
"There's a storm coming in from the West." John laughed to himself again at Bonzo's unintentional analogy. He had said it when they first left the hotel that morning. Bonzo had gone with Smith to the open-air market in the center of Coalseam, leaving John to his own devices for the day. He had followed the men to the market, wanting to see it for himself. It had been a shock to his senses, seeing the huge crowds for perusing the assorted merchant stalls. He had sought out a courier service with Smith's help, finally finding one that specialized in deliveries to the Capital Wasteland and the surrounding areas. Capital Couriers, the sign had said in bright red lettering. John had explained what he needed delivered, and to where. The clerk behind the desk had replied by giving him a price that made John's eyes go wide. 500 caps for delivery to Megaton.
"How do I know you won't just take my money and not deliver it?" he had asked. The clerk rolled his eyes in return.
"Seriously? You don't get far in the courier business if you screw clients over," the clerk responded.
"They're good," Smith had interjected, taking John by surprise. Pulling his journal from his bag, he nodded at the man.
"Ok, then. You got something to send this in?" he asked the clerk. The man responded by pulling a small box from his desk, handing it to John. He slid the small book inside before writing the address on the broad side of the box. Amata Almodovar, C/O Lucas Simms, Megaton. He handed the box back to the clerk, who sealed it before looking back to John.
"Alright. Usually takes around two weeks for delivery," he said.
"Sounds good," John replied, extending his hand. "Pleasure doing business with you," he finished as the clerk grasped his hand, before leaving with Smith. He silently took his leave to rejoin Bonzo at the market, leaving John to explore by himself. The storm clouds had continued to roll toward town as the day had progressed, the low rumbling of thunder growing louder as the storm approached town. The looks on most the locals' faces conveyed a sense of annoyance with the coming storm. John, for his part, was somewhat excited. He had seen brief episodes of precipitation back home, but certainly never anything like a thunderstorm. Finally, midway through the afternoon, the rain broke over the town, sending people scurrying from the streets to shelter indoors or under the awnings of buildings. John stood in the now empty street for a moment, trying to absorb the experience. He closed his eyes, feeling the cool droplets wet his hair and begin to seep through his shirt, smelling the unfamiliar scent of the rain hitting the hot pavement before evaporating. Finally, he dashed for cover, trying to avoid being soaked totally through. He found himself standing next to a pretty brunette under the awning of a bar. Noticing the quizzical look on her face, he answered her unspoken question.
"I've never seen a real storm before," he said. She lifted her eyebrows at him.
"Where are you from?" she asked.
"The Capital Wasteland," he said with a hint of pride. That got her attention.
"Really? What's it like? I've heard so many stories from the traders that have been there." John smiled slightly at her. In the old days, before Amata had come back around, he would have worked his charm and ended up taking the girl home. If only.
"What stories have you heard?" he replied.
"All kinds. I like the stories about the town and the people and the animals. We don't have anything like that out here." John nodded, looking inside the bar and then back to the sky. The rain showed no signs of letting up.
"Do you have time to get something to eat and drink? And then you can ask me whatever you want." She blushed slightly before glancing at her feet and shifting nervously.
"Ok," she replied, looking back at him. He opened the door to the bar for her and guided her across the room to an empty booth. Taking seats across from each other, they resumed their conversation.
"So are there any stories you want to hear?" he asked.
"Why don't we start small? What's the town you're from like?"
"I don't really have a hometown anymore. I live in a town called Megaton, though. Little place, quiet. But the people there are mostly good people." Her eyes widened slightly at the mention of Megaton.
"Is it true it's built around an atomic bomb the Lone Wanderer disabled? Have you met him?" The words practically spilled out. John laughed slightly at the girl's enthusiasm, drawing a slight blush from her.
"Yeah, that's true. And I've met him," he replied. She blushed slightly more.
"What's he like?" she asked breathlessly.
"What do you expect him to be like?" he replied. Her eyes glazed over as she thought.
"Handsome and strong. They say he can't be killed. That he's fearless. He grew up underground and then escaped with his father. Then his father died trying to save the Wasteland. He joined a group of knights and fought a war against the people who killed his father. He destroyed their base and then went into a radiated room to save the Wasteland, same as his father. They say he's a lady killer. All the girls there love him, but none can tie him down, not since he lost his first love." John couldn't help but blush slightly at her description. So the legend made it here too. Hearing people talk about him like he was Grognak the Barbarian was an unnerving experience. He tried to think of a gentle way to tell her.
"You know, I don't think I ever caught your name," he said, extending his hand. She took it, the smoothness of her skin a contrast to his rough palms. She'd never had a hard day's work in her life. She's fortunate.
"Gale," she began. "Gale Campbell." He smiled at her.
"John Thompson," he replied. Her eyes went wide as saucers.
"You're…you're the…" she stammered.
"The Lone Wanderer. Yes. Not what you expected?" She turned a deep shade of red, her pale skin betraying her. The waitress saved her from further embarrassment.
"What'll you two have?" she asked. Gale sat silently staring at John, oblivious to the waitress' presence. John spoke up before the silence became awkward.
"Do you have Nuka-Cola?"
"Yep," the waitress replied.
"Two of those, then," John said. "And do you have any food that won't stop us from eating dinner later?" The waitress thought for a moment.
"Our fries are pretty popular," she replied.
"Get us an order of those too, then."
"Coming right up," she replied as she made her way back to the bar, returning promptly with two bottles of cola. "Food will be a couple minutes," she said with a smile before leaving John and Gale alone. Gale's skin had faded to a slight pink tinge. John put on his most disarming smile, hoping to make the girl slightly less star struck. He had never understood why people got like this around him. He still thought of himself as a regular man who had just been through irregular events.
"You ok?" he asked in what he hoped was a calming tone.
"Yeah…just, how do I know you're actually who you say?" John laughed.
"Did the stories you heard ever talk about my companions, the people I fought alongside?"
"Some of them," she admitted, taking a sip from her drink.
"What'd they say?" he asked, taking a drink from his cola as well.
"Well, there were the knights and their leader, the Sentinel. The traders all said she's a beautiful warrior woman, and that you two were in love once," she began, John sighing at the memory of Sarah. "And then there were the others. Your dog who went everywhere with you. The raider that taught you how to survive. Charon the zombie…" John felt a flash of annoyance at that; not at Gale but at the traders who she heard the stories from.
"Ghoul. He's a ghoul, not a zombie," John corrected gently.
"Sorry," she meekly said. "And then they talked about Fawkes," she went on, looking at John as if seeking his approval for what she had said. He smiled.
"If I introduce you to Fawkes, will you believe me?"
"He's here with you?" she asked excitedly. He nodded at her.
"He is. He's staying in the hotel, though. Apparently he draws stares if he goes out."
"I wish people here weren't like that," she whispered. "So afraid of the outside world, I mean."
"Well, the outside isn't such a nice place. You have it really good here," he replied. She looked slightly embarrassed at that.
"It's not that I don't love it here. This is my home. But there's so much more out there, and I want to be able to see it."
"You know, I grew up being told that there was no way to live outside the Vault. When I escaped, I found out that people can survive, but it's not easy. It's a hard life. In most places people are too worried about surviving to do much else. Things that would be small to you, like ice or radiation-free food, is a huge deal back home. I don't know what made this area special, that it survived the war, but you should be thankful for it," he explained.
"I am thankful. And we survived because of the base. At least that's what the old people say." That caught John's attention.
"The base?" he asked as the waitress returned with the fries.
"My grandmother told me that before the war there was a base built into the mountains around her. Then when the war came it stopped the bombs from falling here," she explained. Her explanation drew a memory to the front of John's mind. Enclave. Shit, is this place built around an Enclave base?
"And what happened to this base after the war?"
"No one knows. No one ever got into it, and it never opened up," she replied.
"Do you know where it is?" he asked. She shook her head.
"No, sorry. I've heard the hunters talk about old tunnels, but my dad never let me go outside the fence." John smiled at her.
"Sounds like our dads would have gotten along," he said. Realizing they had gone through the fries while they were talking, he changed the topic.
"Want to go get dinner at my hotel and meet Fawkes?" John asked.
"Alright," she replied, smiling. John left enough caps on the table to cover the bill and walked back out onto the street, Gale beside him. The sun was peeking out from behind the clouds as they moved off into the distance, getting low in the sky. Lights were beginning to flicker on in windows as evening fell. Coalseam's functioning electrical grid was another source of wonder to John, albeit one more easily understood. This region had always been a mining region, and men still worked in coal mines in the hills around town. Slightly outside of town there was a still functioning coal power plant. Apparently they had retained the knowledge of how to operate the plant, and had kept it running over the 200 years since the war. It had occurred to John that at some point in the future it may pay to make a deal with Coalseam to buy excess power that their plant produced; once the infrastructure in the Capital Wasteland could support it. He pushed the thought to the back of his mind. There was still a very long trip in front of him before he could even start to worry about rebuilding D.C. For now, he decided, he would focus on having an enjoyable night with Gale that didn't end with them sleeping together. God, she is pretty, though, he thought as he glanced over at her. Fair skin with dark hair and blue eyes. She looked to be several years younger than him, but it could also be the smoothness of her skin Bonzo was right. He had committed himself to Amata, and he planned on seeing it through; but part of him was already regretting that decision.
"How old are you, Gale?" he asked as they wound their way through the streets. The air was heavy from the rain earlier in the day.
"I'm 19. Why?" she replied. He thought for a moment. He had been 19 when he had escaped from the Vault. It was only four years, but it felt like a lifetime ago. To him, after what he had been through, 19 felt like a child.
"No reason," he said as they turned onto the street the hotel was on. The building stood over the others, several blocks away.
"Weren't you 19 when you left the Vault?" she asked. He grunted.
"Yeah. I had just turned 19, too. Seems like a long time ago, now," he replied as they reached the hotel and entered.
"I've never been here," she whispered to him. "My family can't afford it." John empathized with that. He'd always had a soft spot for people less fortunate than him.
"Don't worry about money tonight," he replied as he led her into the room. It was less crowded than the night before, making Bonzo and Smith easier to spot. They were at the bar, as he'd expected. Smith grunted and nodded in their direction as they approached, prompting Bonzo to turn around in his chair. His eyes lingered momentarily on Gale before flitting back to John. The look in his eyes said it all. Told you so.
Day to day life in Shady Sands had returned to its normal, slow pace for Emily. The last interesting thing to happen was Julie Farkas' visit, and that had been three weeks ago. Her report on the Mojave was thoroughly depressing. The situation there was deteriorating quickly, and the Followers were stretched to the breaking point just trying to help Freeside. The worst of it was the lack of options for the Followers to support. The Legion was a group of slavers, Mr. House appeared to be a megalomaniac, and the NCR was the NCR, warts and all. And sadly, the NCR appeared to be the best of a bad group of options. The only bright spot of it had been Julie's support for Emily's cause. They had talked about Emily's thoughts on going east, and Emily had given Julie her copy of the Survival Guide. The woman had looked at it quickly before looking back to Emily.
"John Thompson…I know that name," she said.
"How?" Emily asked, surprised.
"It must have been…yeah, it was Fawkes," Julie began. "Fawkes was a super-mutant I met around a year ago. He told me about the Lone Wanderer, told me his real name and all."
"The Wanderer you told me about, the one that was working with the Brotherhood, wrote this book?" Emily asked incredulously. Julie had told her what she knew of the Capital Wasteland, which had admittedly not been much. Most of what she knew had involved the legend of the Lone Wanderer.
"Must be him. Can't imagine there's too many people running around that could do all this," Julie replied.
The intercom in Emily's room brought her back to the present.
"Dr. McPherson, you have a visitor in the lobby," the voice said through the static.
"On my way," she replied, before striding from her room. On some level she hoped it would be Achilles. It had been weeks, and seeing him would be a nice relief from the routine of life. She was not disappointed as she entered the lobby, finding him waiting for her; looking as lean and fierce as ever. His skin looked slightly more tan, contrasting the sandy hair that fell down the sides of his head. He smiled at her as she walked to him.
"Long time, no see," he began. She smiled at him.
"It has been. I was beginning to think you'd gotten yourself crucified or something," she replied as she kissed him. He laughed at her greeting. Actually, it was quite the reverse. The thought of her horror were she to learn his true affiliation amused him on some level.
"There was a close call or two, but nothing I couldn't handle," he replied cockily. "You free this evening?"
"God yes. Please, get me out of here," she replied.
"I can do that," he said through his smile. What better way to celebrate the success of his mission to the Mojave than fucking an NCR citizen? Sometimes he almost felt like Mars had chosen him as well as Caesar. He knew better than to put such thoughts into words, though. Discretion was still the better part of valor for a frumentarius of his ambition.
So I hope the medical terminology and what not for Amata being pregnant doesn't weird people out; but eh, this is rated M for a reason. Anyway, I appreciate all the feedback so far (I seem to collect a lot of unsigned feedback, dunno if that's normal on here or not), and hope you enjoy and keep reading!