Chapter 70: Mutual Necessities

Rathmore assembled the officers and NCOs before him, pacing in front of the rows as he grimly thought to himself. War Chief Tandi stood beside Lt. Milligan, flanked by their immediate subordinates. Recently promoted 2nd Lieutenant Hutsgy stood at attention as her sergeants Ford and West tried subtlety not to gossip. Captain Wallace stood beside 1st Lieutenant Mullens as he braced himself for whatever announcement the corpse had in store for him. As an itch flared up on his cheek, his hand instinctively reached up to scratch it. As he pulled it away, he saw even more skin build up under his nail. Ethan let out a sigh.

"Listen up, all of you," Rathmore barked. "Things have not exactly gone to plan. Circumstances, such as they are, demand immediate solutions. So forgive me for being light on ceremony."

"We lost Gorobets, and as much as that hurts all of us, we cannot allow ourselves to focus on it. We need decisive action, now. We need a commanding officer."

He pulled out his hand from behind him. In his fingers was the badge of an oak leaf. "Considering recent circumstances, the chain of command has been disrupted, considering how the Colonel's immediate subordinate," Rathmore paused as he pointedly did not look at Milligan. "…is currently incapacitated by outside factors. Ergo, as the remaining CO with the most rank and seniority, I feel this issue has fallen squarely onto my shoulders."

He immediately about-faced toward the men. "Let me be perfectly fucking clear so everyone understands this. We are not a fucking democracy. The CO is going to make decisions that will not be popular and will nonetheless be followed through. There isn't going to be a vote. What happens is going to happen."

A few of the rank and file in attendance felt a chill down their backs. Rathmore was a respected officer, but he was feared for good reason. Without Gorobets to keep a leash on him, no one could object or stop his self-promotion. The men braced themselves for their aggressive new commander.

"Ethan Wallace!" Rathmore barked. "Step forward!"

Ethan obeyed the order. Rathmore stood before him, sizing the man up and down. His skin had gotten paler, and he could see bits of muscle peeking through his cheeks. He was in the early stages, and the rest would arrive in the coming weeks. Still, Ethan Wallace was technically and legally human.

Rathmore reached to the collar of Captain Wallace's uniform, popping out the captain's bars. He held forward the oak leaf. "…The responsibility for all of us going forward rests on your shoulders, Major Wallace."

"Donald?" Wallace got out. "You're… selecting me for leadership?"

"Are you going to put the pin in or am I going to have to fucking do it for you?" Rathmore growled.

"…I thought you hated my guts," Wallace said.

Rathmore pulled him forward, bringing his lips to the other officer's ear, and began to whisper. "Listen good. I do not like you and think you are a shit soldier. You are, however, a decent officer. The CO title was always going to come down between the two of us, and if I took it for myself, morale would go down the shitter and everyone will think this is a suicide mission. People trust you to get them out of jams, that's why you're a half-decent leader."

Rathmore put the pin into Major Wallace's collar. "That… means a lot coming from you," Wallace nodded.

"Just let me lead the 66th as I will and we'll get along just fine," Rathmore sniffed. "And I'm not fucking saluting you."

"I thought you were a good soldier," Wallace sneered.

"I'm a shit soldier too, kid," Rathmore grinned. "I'm a fucking warrior."

Rathmore broke away, turning about-face as he marched away. "Major, I shall immediately depart to reconnect with Commissioner Boone, as per your orders," Rathmore announced as he left.

Wallace opened his mouth to call out after his insubordinate adjutant but thought it useless as he turned to look over the men. "…Ladies and gentlemen, gather the prisoners. We're going to go and make contact with the Liberty Clans."


"Ok, Daph, I get the point," Larain called out in his muffled voice as Daphne clutched him even tighter to her chest. Tia, on her part, was busy hugging his leg. Dalton oversaw the scene with a sense of bemusement while Amos reunited with Gavin. Larain was glad to see these familiar faces and downright relieved at knowing that his new friends wouldn't have to face down his old ones.

"Ok, seriously, where in the fuck were you?" Tia asked as she pulled away.

"I was with the AEG, like undercover and all," Larain smiled.

"…Then how come I didn't see you when all those Cali fuckers came into the Res-by-the-Res?" Tia asked as she placed her hands on her hips.

"Daph, could you maybe rein in your kid, please?" Larain asked.

"…I dunno. I think that's a mighty fine question to be asking," Daphne said as she folded her arms. "Not that I want to sound ungrateful for everything you've done, but we've been looking for you for weeks. Damn near thought you were dead for a while."

"I know, I tried to get back in touch with you guys, honest, but some things came up and got really complicated," Larain tried to explain.

"How complicated?" Daphne asked.

Trudging up the hill, Carla set down her pack as she wiped the sweat from her brow. "Larain, you would not believe what I just gave Rosa an earful of. I screamed at her stuff that if my mom overheard even today she'd probably… oh, didn't realize you were busy," she said as she looked between the busty woman with her arms around Larain's shoulders.

Daphne stared at Carla for a good moment. "…You look familiar."

"She probably just has one of those faces," Larain nervously laughed as she tried to turn away the Liberty Clan matron.

"No, I remember seeing that one. Well, most of it," Daphne turned back. "…You rented a room from me back at the Res, didn't you?"

"Aww, you remember me?" Carla grinned.

"I mean, you're the only tanback I ever leased a room to," Daphne explained.

"Tanback?" Carla asked.

"A cop," Larain explained. "Not exactly flattering."

"How'd you know I was a cop?" Carla asked. "I thought I did a good job being undercover.

"Well, that Sequoia you had on your hip is generally a dead giveaway. Also, you overpaid for the room something fierce, every local knows that the price listed is jumped up and yet you still paid. Plus, you're too stiff and polite for the usual raff we get. Oh, and you came in with the rest of the AEG. It wasn't hard to suss you out, sweetheart," Daphne smirked. "How'd your date go?"

Larain began to blush. Carla looked at him, unable to hide a smile. "Ask him."

Daphne turned over to Larain. "…You have got to be kidding me."

"Daphne, I can explain," he indeed tried to.

"We spent weeks worrying about you being alive or dead, and you were within grabbing distance from me, but instead you decided to get your DICK WET?! WITH A FUCKING COP?!"

"I was going to leave with you guys in the morning, honest!" Larain pleaded.

"Oh, so now I'm just "hit and quit" material," Carla interjected.

"YOU TOLD ME IT WAS JUST A FLING, ANYWAY!" Larain retorted. Amos and Gavin overheard the commotion and came to Larain's aid. "You slept with a Marshal?" Gavin asked.

"Well… kind of," Larain admitted.

"How was it?" Amos asked.

"It was OK," Carla said. "Not great or anything, but, you know, at the end of the day it's just a guy pumping in you while you exaggerate how good it feels."

"NOT HELPING!" Larain screamed.

"Well sorry, if I knew what an Over-Easy was, maybe I'd give you seconds," Carla retorted.

"What's an Over-Easy?" Tia asked.

"NO!" Everyone screamed at the girl.

Dalton listened to the bickering. All the struggle he had gone through, all the risks he took, all to give them to a kid who, far as he could tell, would end up never struggling as much as he did. He supposed that was the purpose of being a parental guardian, the ultimate goal he was shooting for. Listless fucking hippie he was, Larain was an adult, more or less. A man.

"Spending a lot of time gabbing with these folk about a lot of bullshit," Dalton groused at Larain as he broke off from the group as they went to get some kind of breakfast. "Especially considering you're apparently some kind of shoo-in for this whole "Wasteland Emergency President" kind of thing."

"I'm telling them that I'm still one of them," Larain explained. "Gabbing about bullshit is Liberty Clan Culture 101. We aren't just a clan or a gang, we're a family."

"And I ain't?" Dalton folded his arms.

"What, you jealous?" Larain half-smirked.

"Your business is yours, kid, that much I'll give you," Dalton explained. "That being said, all these folk are lining up to be yours, "hero." They're gonna be putting a whole lot of faith in you," the old man continued as Larain felt a pit in his stomach. "Must run in the family?"

"…Uncle," Larain finally found his tongue. "Can I ask you for a favor?"

"What's one more?" Dalton scoffed playfully.

"…I'm going to need you to not say anything about the Interfector, to anyone," Larain explained.

"…Heh? Not mention your father?" Dalton asked. "What, your father is your biggest qualifier for leadership. Proof that the blood of a great man flows through you."

"Not his," Larain hissed. "Lot of these folk knew folk from Phoenix way back when. Hell, a few of the old timers still remember the damn city. Nothing good can come from bringing up any kind of connection between what happened to Phoenix and me."

"…I can't believe this," Dalton let out. "You think renouncing your family is some kind of protection?"

"Damn near everyone here knows I used to be Legion," Larain explained. "But between everyone here, only Kenzie knew who my father used to be and he's dead. I think it's best for everyone that it stays that way."

Dalton stood before the boy he nursed to health after the beatings in training left him a quivering mess. The boy he took from Dinero's town after burying his mother. The one he risked so much to look after and was now rejecting everything he came from. Rejecting his father. Rejecting the best friend Dalton ever had.

"…Do you have any idea what you're asking me to do?" Dalton stated, slowly.

"…What if I'm not asking?" Larain replied, his voice growing sterner.

Hundreds of triumphs. Countless victories. Years and decades of wasteland heroism and history. A legacy won through blood and sweat, forged in iron and lead, one that would reverberate throughout time was being rejected on the grounds of it not being politically convenient.

Dalton stared at Larain. He wanted to smack the boy, scream at him for his cowardice and impudence, for rejecting that which he owed everything. He wanted to be angry, furious, enraged at the very notion. He wanted to feel something. Anything at all would have done it. He just felt tired. Tired and nothing at all.

"…Whatever you say, Abel," Dalton turned away from the boy who had been his nephew.

"Uncle," Larain called afterward. The old man bristled as the man who had once been his nephew tried to hold out a hand. "…Don't be like that. It's nothing personal, it's just…"

"You're ashamed of your father and my best friend," Dalton called back. "It feels pretty personal to me. Fine. You want my silence, you can have it. But don't come crying to me when everything falls apart around you. From this point forward, you're on your own," and with that, the old man left Larain standing all alone.


"…Only just barely got him stable. The old guy on the dog did most of the heavy lifting. Still can't stand the Legion, but he did his best to do right by us," a sweet and familiar voice began to wake him. Joseph slowly came to, feeling a full body ache coursing through his being as he tried to muster enough energy to stir.

"That's a pretty hefty wound on his back," Amy said. "Looks pretty deep."

"…I had my hands full for the better part of two hours just trying to keep enough blood in him," Melody explained, exhausted. "As for the damage… there's only so much I can do out here, and even if I had the equipment, I don't see any way we… I can even begin to…" she sounded close to tears.

"…The wasteland isn't accommodating," Amy began. "His life from here on out will be even more difficult than it was. As will be yours."

"I'll find a way to make it work," Melody steadied herself, trying to keep her composure.

"You've already done so much for him. Going forward, all he's going to be to you is a burden. Look, I like you, I like him too, but thinking about this rationally…"

"What are you saying?" Melody asked, apprehensive.

"…This far out in the wasteland, perhaps the merciful thing to do is…"

"Amy," Melody interrupted, her demeanor having immediately shifted. "Do not finish that sentence."

"Facts are facts, Mel," Amy continued, unabated. "Bad enough he was blind before, but a blind gimp-"

"Walk away from this tent," Melody cut her off, her tone even but firm, brokering no argument. Joseph heard the footsteps walking away from the discussion. He listened as Melody began breathing heavily, trying to keep herself calm or at least stop herself from exploding. As the tent flap shifted, Melody wiped the sweat and tears from her eyes as she looked back to her husband. "…I know you're awake."

"…I can't feel my legs," Joseph muttered. Laying on his back, his shirt having been removed, three long claw marks raked across his spine.

"Don't get up, I'm begging you," Melody tried to coax. "The stitching I did was barely enough to hold you together."

"…I can't lay here," Joseph muttered as he reached his hand out for his cane, grasping in vain trying to find it.

"You heard what I said," Melody retorted, her voice growing louder.

"The others… I have to get to the others. Have to keep the others safe," he gritted as he slowly gave up on finding his cane, instead pawing around the gurney.

"You're barely in position to look after yourself!" Melody yelled. "Expecting to move from your position now is impossible!"

"Well, honey, as I have stated before, through the Shepherd all things are possible," Joseph smiled, "so after you jot that one down as always, help me up. All I need is a walk around the camp and the feeling will return to my legs just fiAAAAAGH!" he screamed as he pushed himself up off the gurney. The wounds across his back flared up, and a jolt of unrelenting pain shot through his spine, sparking up and down his back as he collapsed back onto his stomach. "SHHHH-shhh-shhhhhhhhhhhhh," he seethed as Melody immediately grabbed her doctor bag to administer what few painkillers she still had. Joseph lay there in silence as the reality of his predicament set in. Lost his sight as a boy, lost his legs as a man. For the first time since those first few horrible days as a child, he was truly helpless.

Melody saw his shoulders begin to shake as she grabbed her water bottle. She worried that a seizure had overtaken him and was about to leave and get some kind of help, maybe Kyra or Kim, hell, even Jimmy had to understand how serious this situation had to be. It was then that she heard his voice begin to pick up. Joseph Young was laughing, and he was laughing hysterically.

"…t-twenty years since I gave my life to Him," he giggled. "Twenty y-years of serving a world and people I cannot even see-he-he. Preaching and-and-and ministering to the desperate and the ignorant and the vain and deluded and-and every now and then someone who actually bothered to listen. Twenty years of putting off everything I wanted to do, all for Him. And you would think, you would th-hink that the least He can do is cut me a FUCKING BREAK?!" Joseph snarled.

"…it's not His job to grant wishes," Melody interrupted. "…Isn't that what you told me?"

"Oh!" Joseph turned to his wife. "So you actually were paying attention all that time?! Is this what it takes to finally get through to you all those things I've tried to impart to you?! Do you finally believe NOW?!"

"…You're saying it's the Shepherd's fault that you were maimed?" Melody asked. "The Shepherd didn't make you come all this way out into the wasteland. The Shepherd didn't put you up against killer lizards and psychics. That was you, Joseph. Just you."

"So, this is all my fault?" Joseph continued to laugh. "This is what I deserve?!"

"No," Melody shook her head. "You took that hit for me. If you hadn't, I would be dead. So if there's anyone you want to be angry at, you can be angry at me," Melody explained.

Joseph's laughter began to peter out. "…I can't do that. Don't put that on you. Don't make me blame you. It makes no sense."

"And it makes no sense for you to blame the Shepherd. Everything happens for a reason, right? Nothing outside his design, regardless of our preference or liking, right? You took that hit to protect me. You're alive because I was there to patch you back up, like always. You… we are alive. Does that mean anything to you?"

"…And how am I supposed to help the others in a condition like this?" Joseph asked as his naked bitterness finally made it to the surface. "What kind of message is this supposed to be?"

"I have and probably will never pretend to speak on behalf of your "Shepherd," Joe. But maybe this is His way of telling you you've done enough? Maybe He's just telling you to stop?" Melody offered.

"…He's telling me to abandon my friends?" Joseph asked, incredulously.

"…Or maybe now it's time to have a little faith in them?" Melody countered.

Joseph and Melody sat in silence for a good long while. Before too much time had passed, Joseph began to laugh again, although this time in a more reserved and controlled manner. Melody noted that he still looked like he was in agony, but this time for different reasons.

"Blinded by the White Legs. Crippled by a deathclaw. And lectured about faith by my atheist wife. Almighty above, what a sorry sight I must be? Small mercy I can't cry anymore."

"What?" Melody asked. "Afraid I'll make fun of you for not being manly?"

"…Yeah, kind of," Joseph sniffed and giggled. "…Guess my part in this story is over. The rest is going to be up to them. And… I guess this is goodbye. The others, they're going to need-"

A hand reached out and grabbed his. "Joseph, I'm not leaving you. You need me more than ever. And no, don't start. You're not being a burden. You've never been one for me."

"…Thank you, Melody. Pride is the one sin I've always struggled the most with. I can't promise that I won't spend every day I'm able trying to get back onto my feet. Faith is powerful… but a licensed medical professional can't really hurt either."

Melody let out a chuckle, relieved that her husband had found reason through his faith. Though it was not something she shared with her husband, she had learned to respect his commitment to his faith, and how he saw it as a gift and responsibility simultaneously. If there was one thing in this world that she did have faith in, it was in her husband.

Joseph's relationship with Melody hadn't been without its contentions, especially early when they had been dating, but as time had gone on, Joseph began to understand and appreciate how his wife saw the world. By not believing in the Shepherd, Melody could avoid the ensnarement many of his fellow believers fell into and avoided blaming Him for the ills that befell the world. Instead, Melody made it her life's mission to attack these ills, literal or otherwise, for the pure benefit of others. She was a fine example of faithfulness regardless of theological issues, and he secretly suspected that she was actually an agnostic, if only through his initial needling. At any rate, she did become a church member, even if she only showed up on Easter and Christmas. Much like most of the congregation, now that he thought of it.

"…Do the others know?" Joseph asked.

"Kim does, she saw you come in with the riders. I told her to keep it close to her chest until I had a better read on your condition. Should I go inform the others?"

Joseph thought long and hard. He reached out. He heard Larain being comforted by Carla. He heard Tobey taking up a position near the perimeter as other Liberty Clanners mentioned sighting something approaching. He heard Gael and Jimmy listening to Dalton vent and rant. He heard Rosa running to Kim for help to try and break up a vicious argument between her father and Cassidy. He heard Lars and Cassidy aggressively making out, their old usual post-spat action. He heard Barabbas and his riders returning to camp, the big man looking defeated even as Falco peppered him with questions regarding future decrees and orders. He heard Dinero, Frost, and familiar shade looking over Marcy as she slept, knowing that the absence had to be Kyra. He heard Amy wrapping her arms around the neck of a strangely familiar man.

"CADE! I'm so glad you're OK!"

"Oh, there you are. You look awful."

Joseph mulled over how strange it was that this man was somehow recognizable. Was it because he was from the caves? Or because he had witnessed the "fight" at the Res-by-the-Res? Or maybe it was because something about him went much farther back, back to happier and more carefree times. In his mind's eye, Joseph saw a boy with a rifle standing atop a guard tower, picking off crows and generally keeping to himself.


Just before noon, the Liberty Clans made contact with elements of the Allied Expeditionary Group, largely headed by Judicial Marshals and elements of the 14th Scouts and 66th Assault. Heading the group were Commissioner Natalie Boone and Captain Donald Rathmore. Having declared a ceasefire, the stage was set for an act of historic precedence, the likes of which would change the Unclaimed Wastes forever.