The song referenced in this chapter, which will become very important to the plot, is "Solitude" by Billie Holiday.


Chapter 23 - Crisis of Faith

Marilyn felt an uncanny surge of confidence as she and Dick followed Brother Cole to the supply room. She couldn't really explain where it came from, but she wasn't worried. It felt nice, especially after being unsure of her every move for so long. Maybe this burst of confidence was a side effect of her newfound determination regarding her relationship with Dick, or maybe it was the euphoria of finally having her stomach satiated. Or, maybe it was the vodka.

"You may each take two items," Brother Cole explained while gesturing to the supply crate, "After a particularly rude guest emptied our stores, we had to impose a limit in order to ensure something will remain for the next visitors."

"Sure, we understand," Marilyn nodded before peering down to examine the box's contents.

They weren't exactly what she had in mind when she thought of medical supplies. It was mostly an assortment of different chems, though there were a few useful things strung throughout. Without hesitation, she reached for a bag of RadAway. It sounded useful, considering the ever present radiation around them, although she had to admit the solution looked a bit thinner than what she'd seen back in the clinic. She would've guessed it was diluted with water. Less effective, but it was still something.

"Wait, actually, you take it," Marilyn hummed, pushing the RadAway at Dick.

Dick blinked at her, watching her take a metal tin labeled 'Healing Salve' instead. He then reached to take a Stimpak but Marilyn instead slipped a brown bottle into his hand. Dick looked down at it and then immediately snapped his gaze back up to Marilyn.

"Buffout?" He mumbled incredulously, "Are you serious?"

"Get it? Because you're buff?" Marilyn smiled.

"Mari," Dick frowned, holding up the bottle, "These are steroids."

When she just continued to smile at him, Dick shook the bottle for emphasis.

"Highly addictive steroids," He frowned more.

"I bet if you took Buffout with some Psycho, you'd be able to bend a steel beam in half," She chuckled, looking back at the storage box, "You know, because you're so strong."

Dick made a face at her, going to say something. But then he fell silent, eyes widening, as he watched her pick up an orange syringe of Daddy-O. He shot her a questioning glance and she just looked back at him with a passive smile. What was he overreacting for? She wasn't saying they had to use the chems, but it might be useful to have them, right?

"Ah, have you made all your choices then?" Brother Cole smiled patiently.

"Actually," Marilyn looked over, eyeing the two Stimpaks in the box, "Do you think we could get some for Billy, too?"

"Billy?" Brother Cole looked at her curiously, "Ah, you mean the ghoul? Well…"

"Please?" Marilyn blinked at him, trying her best pout.

"...You'd be helping him live longer," Dick chimed in when Marilyn's efforts didn't seem to bear fruit, "Ain't that what you said you guys like?"

"I suppose that's true," Brother Cole hummed before nodding, "Alright. If these chems can prolong its unholy life, then its punishment is further endured, and it will be in Death's will."

Marilyn gave Dick a small nod of appreciation, ignoring the uncertain way he looked at her, and quickly swiped up the two Stimpaks in the bin. They looked like they were a bit thin, and they had probably been watered down the same as the RadAway. Ah, well, it would still be useful at the end of the day, just maybe not as much as the unaltered version.

"Will that satisfy you?" Brother Cole looked at them, his smile seeming a little less patient now.

"Yeah, man," Dick nodded, "Thanks a bunch. For everything."

"Yes, thank you," Marilyn gave an appreciative smile.

"I hope these items will serve you well," Brother Cole began, clearing his throat before he continued, "Now you have dined with us and you have taken these gifts freely, so…"

Marilyn's smile fell. Of course there was a catch.

"...I would like to ask a small favor in return."

Brother Cole turned away, that perpetual smile finally melting away to reveal a look of consternation.

"Father Nicolai has been troubled as of late," He sighed, wringing his hands, "Something weighs heavily upon his mind, but he will not speak it to myself or any of the others."

Then he turned back to face Marilyn and Dick.

"But perhaps if an outsider were willing to lend an ear, he may be willing to speak?"

Marilyn considered his request. Surely going to talk to this Nicolai guy wouldn't be too much trouble, right?

"Hmm, alright," She hummed, "I don't see any harm in that."

She looked over at Dick for affirmation, noting the funny look he was giving her. But then he quickly nodded.

"Uh, yeah," He cleared his throat, "We can do that."

"Oh, splendid! Thank you!" Brother Cole clasped his hands together, that smile returning to his face, "You will find Father upstairs. He has been hiding himself away in his study ever since the morning sermon."

Brother Cole directed them to the stairwell and then they ascended to the next story. As they did, Dick glanced over at Marilyn. He didn't say anything, but she could read it in his expression. You're acting strange, his eyes told her. And she knew that she was. She was being awfully… flippant. A consequence of that blooming confidence, she supposed. It really must've been the vodka, after all.

The door to the study was open when they arrived. A very slender man with skin pale as paper leaned on at an ornate wooden desk with his long thin legs crossed. His blond hair, the color of straw, was pulled back into a long ponytail that reached down to the small of his back and his brows were knitted in concentration over his icy blue eyes. He wasn't exactly a handsome man, being so gaunt, but he did have a regal look about him with an aquiline nose and cheekbones that could cut glass. His spindly pale fingers tapped against his taut lips, adding to the idea that he was very deep in thought. So deep in thought that he didn't even notice them until Dick rapped his knuckles on the door.

"Ah, yes?" He sat up, uncrossing his legs.

"Excuse us," Marilyn stepped forward, entering the study, "Are you Father Nicolai?"

"Yes, I am he," The man said as he stood up, turning to face them.

"We were told you were having some sort of trouble?" Dick asked as he stepped up behind Marilyn.

"Trouble?" The man blinked before chuckling and closing his eyes, "Ah, Harold. He still frets after me, I see."

As Father Nicolai spoke, Marilyn took further stock of his appearance. The dignified aura wasn't just due to his face, but his outfit played the part too. He was clean-cut and well-tailored, wearing all pre-war clothes. A blue button-down short-sleeved shirt, a mostly-clean pair of black slacks, and a polished pair of brown and white saddle shoes. He even had a leather wristwatch, non-functioning she would imagine. It was like looking at a man out of a pre-war film. Marilyn could practically feel the waves of unspoken envy rolling off of Dick.

"Forgive me, I didn't catch your names," Father Nicolai cleared his throat, clearly aware of Marilyn giving him a once-over.

She ordinarily would've been a bit embarrassed at getting caught staring, but she just powered ahead unfazed.

"My name is Marilyn," She gestured to herself before nodding to Dick, "And this is Dick."

"Well, my name is Nicolai. Father Nicolai, as I'm sure you already know," Father Nicolai smoothed the creases from his slacks, "And your offer is kind, but I wouldn't seek to press my burdens upon you children."

"Hey, we ain't little kids," Dick sniffed indignantly, earning a chuckle from the man.

"Ah, the bluster of youth," Father Nicolai smiled.

But then he dropped his smile and glanced away.

"Well, if you insist…" He sighed, "I suppose I am having a bit of trouble at the moment."

Father Nicolai clasped his hands together in front of his chest, looking back at them.

"It's been some time since I've received word from the southern flock, and I'm growing worried. Father Antonis should've sent news by now," He frowned, beginning to wring his hands, "I've heard news of unrest in the south ever since the Brotherhood of Steel gained control of Cape May. Every day, we get new migrants leaving the city, fed up with the rules imposed by the Brotherhood. And now I... I worry something has happened to the flock."

"Cape May? Ah, what a coincidence," Marilyn smiled, "We just so happen to be going that way."

"We are?" Dick blinked, earning an elbow from Marilyn, "O-Oh, uh, right. Yeah, we are!"

"Really? Well, if it is no trouble… then perhaps you could check in with our church there?" Father Nicolai gave them an uncertain smile.

"We'd be happy to," Marilyn nodded.

"Death smiles upon your kindness, young miss," Father Nicolai bowed his head, "But, ah, I'm sure you want something more tangible, hm?"

Father Nicolai set his gaunt fingers against his lips for a moment, clearly in thought, before nodding to himself.

"I have a small fund saved. We have little use for money here, for we Saints share everything freely among one another…" Father Nicolai explained, "...but if you would travel down to Cape May for me, learn of my flock, and return with the news, I will reward you with 500 caps. Would that be sufficient?"

Marilyn raised her eyebrows but nodded. She hadn't even expected a reward.

"But before we do," Dick piped up, "We've got some questions."

"Ah, of course," Father Nicolai turned to him, "What would you like to know?"

"How are we supposed to find this place?" Dick asked.

"Ah, it will be a church much like this one. It is known as Saint Georgios' Cathedral," Father Nicolai explained, "I haven't been down there for a very long time, but I remember it had a beautiful view overlooking the ocean, so you'll likely find it along the coast. Look for the lighthouse."

"Who should we talk to once we get there?" Marilyn asked, mostly because Dick was looking at her expectantly.

"That would be Father Antonis. Antonis Papadapoulos," Father Nicolai answered, "You'll recognize him as soon as you see him, I would imagine."

"Why's that?" Dick perked a brow.

"Well, he looks very much like myself," Father Nicolai gestured towards his face, "And of course he would. We're brothers."

Father Nicolai glanced down, expression growing somber.

"Though he's an excellent pastor, his teachings of the doctrine can err on the side of liberal. That is, his preaching sometimes teaches… unorthodox doctrine," He frowned, "We've had many unpleasant words about the matter in the past, truth be told. Sometimes, I… I wonder if my brother's belief in the doctrine is genuine. But he has always been staunch in leading his flock and his letters have not failed to arrive once within the last 15 years. So, naturally, you see why I worry now that they've suddenly ceased."

Dick went to say something but Marilyn had an impulsive question on her mind for some time now.

"Why would someone even want to worship death?" She asked abruptly, "Like, why do you believe in this stuff?"

"Hm? Me? Well, I'm the pastor of this church," Father Nicolai blinked at her.

"Yeah, but why?" She pressed on, "There must be some reason you ended up here, right?"

"Well, that's… a bit more complicated," Father Nicolai chuckled awkwardly.

A beat passed before Dick cleared his throat.

"Uhh, if we're prying too much…" He began, but Father Nicolai shook his head.

"Oh, no, it's alright. I often share my story with the flock, even though it can be painful," He forced a smile, "I was born to a… well, dysfunctional family. If it could truly be called a family. The man and woman to whom I was born were raiders. My father, as it were, was a very angry man riddled with various chem and alcohol addictions. He'd often become violent towards my mother or myself, and his temper only worsened after my brother's birth."

Father Nicolai paused, frowning at the memory.

"One night, he came home heavily intoxicated. He was entirely incoherent. I don't remember why, but he was exceptionally angry. But I do remember the shotgun. First he shot my mother, once in the chest then once in the head. Then he turned to me. I don't remember much after that, but I awoke to my infant brother crying. For whatever reason, he was spared. And so was I. Death had spared me."

Father Nicolai set a hand against the wall fondly.

"Somehow, I carried my brother through the wilderness all the way from Cold Spring. Collapsed at this church, weak and tired. I was drawn to it like a moth to light. That is where we met Father Isidoros," Father Nicolai smiled, "He took us in, raised us as his own sons, and taught us the doctrine of the Saints. My name was no longer Nicholas but Nicolai, and Anthony became Antonis. And now here I am, proud to follow in his footsteps."

Marilyn hummed, unable to help drawing the comparisons between herself and the pastor. She, too, had been shot point blank and somehow survived. She still couldn't fathom how, but she doubted a deity had anything to do with it. She was starting to feel a bit too tired to think about it much, though. Her previous burst of confidence had slowly faded away and turned to exhaustion. Now all she wanted was a nap.

"Well, uh, we should probably get going," Dick pointed out, "Billy's probably gonna be pissed we kept him waiting so long."

"Oh! I'd completely forgotten about him," Marilyn admitted quietly, loathing the small feeling of embarrassment that crept in.

"It sounds like you have other business to attend to, so I won't keep you," Father Nicolai smiled, "But please don't forget to visit Saint Georgios' to check in on my brother's flock once you've reached Cape May."

"Will do," Marilyn nodded before she and Dick excused themselves.

As they walked back down the stairs, Dick perked a brow at her.

"Since when are we going to Cape Wherever?" He asked quietly.

"Since about five minutes ago," Marilyn yawned.

Dick made a face, looking at her in that funny way again.

"I don't think I like vodka," Marilyn told him as they reached the bottom of the stairs, rubbing her tired eyes.

Dick stared at her for a moment before a look of realization crossed his face.

"Ohh, so that's why you've been acting so weird," He mumbled, more to himself than to her.

A beat passed before he chuckled.

"Wow, Mari, you're kind of a lightweight," He said as he nudged her side, "You only had a few sips."

"They were big sips," She protested softly, suppressing another yawn.

Dick watched her try not to yawn for a good long moment before sighing and crouching down in front of her. Marilyn looked at him curiously, going to speak, but instead just yelped slightly as Dick grabbed the back of her thighs. He leaned into her while pulling her forward, hoisting her onto his back in one swift gesture. Marilyn hastily moved to wrap her arms around his shoulders as he stood back up, feeling like she would've fallen off otherwise.

Of all the times to have lost her liquid confidence, it of course had to happen just before this. So there she was, clinging onto Dick while he carried her down the front steps. She wasn't sure what embarrassed her most. How warm he was at every point their bodies connected, how good he smelled despite the obvious lack of his usual cologne, or being carried around like a small child. Or maybe it was none of that. Maybe it was just the look of clear judgment from Billy as they approached.

"...She's tired," Dick explained flatly before Billy could even say anything.

"I got you Stimpaks," Marilyn mumbled, deciding to just give in and set her chin on Dick's shoulder as her eyes fell closed.

"Well, just great," Billy sniffed, standing up from the stump he'd been seated on, "So now I gotta walk the rest of the way to Grassy Sound with just Romeo to talk to? Pfft…"

"Romeo?" Dick inquired, earning another snort from Billy.

Whatever he'd mumbled in response, Marilyn couldn't hear it past the song playing from Billy's Pip-Boy. It was a slow song, soothing yet somber. The deep-voiced woman sang along to a gentle piano…

"I sit in my chair, filled with despair. There's no one could be so sad…" The woman crooned softly, "With gloom everywhere, I sit and I stare. I know that I'll soon go mad…"

Marilyn clumsily hummed along, nestling her cheek more against the crook of Dick's neck as her consciousness faded away.