Queen's note: Deegan sometimes just can't leave things alone. But he can leave these people in need in good hands while busy.

Welcome to the Wasteland

Chapter Seventeen:

Refugees

All things considered, Deegan had estimated time for the group pretty well. Even if he led them a slightly roundabout way. He glanced back at hearing an excited chuffing from the added strays they found. Wondering a bit at how fate sometimes worked as one of the young Brahmin calves was trying to wiggle and walk at the same time.

That shell-shocked man… June? He had reached out to run his hands over the small back of the uncommon critter. Not impossible but just rare enough nowadays to be considered good luck when a single headed brahmin was found.

So much so that June's wife had eased her hostility when they found the broken herd. She was currently leading one of the cows beside June, helping to keep the man calm and boxed in the middle of the group.

Three cows and five calves, two of the calves with single heads. The cows had definitely been domesticated for most of their lives. Preston had pointed out to the group how any growths and extra bits on their hides and udders had been carefully cut off and long since healed. That these ones had fur from regular doses of Rad-away, and how the cows had calmed down at getting softer attention. One even turning to get into a better position when Marcy experimented to try and milk the cow.

Poor things looking like, until recently, that they were used to being milked as well as nursing. Preston glanced back at the group, reflexively doing a headcount, and smiled a little seeing Momma Murphy using one of the brahmin as added support. The cow looked bemused but Preston thought rather happy to be with people again. His eyes drifting to the single headed babies and the almost random one that drifted between the three. He likely lost his mother, though was able to stay with the herd and he was able some of the extra milk.

He hoped that things would be on the upswing. That soon no one would need him-

Deegan reached out to grasp Preston's shoulder, not hurting but firm enough that the glazing look of the man's eyes was startled away. Soft brown lifting to meet sharp blue and red.

"We're almost there." Deegan said, the pre-war Ghoul looking far too experienced and a little too knowing. "Stay awake and here Preston. Remember when I said there were other non humans?"

Preston blinked a few times, took a deep breath, realizing he smelled grass and not just dust. The man had been slowly becoming aware of more spring green showing up the farther north west they went, and was a little taken aback as he saw flowers growing.

Daisies and their look-alikes he could not remember the name of.

"Other lucid ghouls?" Preston asked, suddenly grateful for the grounding grip on his shoulder.

"Well, yes, but also someone else." Deegan paused to consider the survivor. "You may be too young to have heard the real stories. But you know the myth about the talking white deathclaw? It was somewhere to the far west I think?"

Preston paused and frowned, almost stopping his stride. "The children's story?"

"Stories and myths have a nugget of truth in it." Deegan explained as he scanned the horizon, looking for signs of life and movement. Spotting quite a lot really. Mostly small animals, from feral dogs, wild birds, ground squirrels and the bigger iguanas coming out of hibernation. Even a group of wild turkeys taking a chance to come out and forage in the grassland before nesting.

Preston felt himself tilting his head at those words, something about them would have Preston remembering that phrase.

Then the context slowly started to settle on Preston's mind. He stood a bit straighter despite the twang of pain from pulled muscles in his back. "...There's a deathclaw there? A tamed one?"

Deegan chuckled, giving a reassuring squeeze, "Friendly, not tamed. Trust me it took me a while to get used to the idea too, but help keep the others from firing first. She's possibly still be at the farm, asleep, Valory was starting some heavy work when I left a few hours ago."

Preston tilted his head, Deegan was not trying to hide this, though not talking too loud. Letting the others listen in if they wanted to pay attention.

"You're not joking Deegan?"

The big ghoul shook his head. "No."

There was a long few minutes as the surviving Minuteman leader thought about it.

One of the two women in the dress blue jacket spoke up, Clare was almost as tall as Deegan, "The white albino from the stories is named Valory?"

Deegan could not help but laugh, a low rumbling sound. "No, they said his name is Goris. Valory is his great granddaughter."

"And she's friendly," Preston wondered, the only time he had seen deathclaws up close that was alive was while hiding. Once with the full party of Minutemen near the glowing sea and it took everyone firing, ten grenades and a missile, even then it's body was still mostly intact.

"As much as anyone can be when meeting strangers." Deegan aloud, glanced back at the group, the unease they all had when he approached was still there in part, but likely the group would be tense for a while. "Her priority is a young woman she came here with. But seems pretty protective of those around." He shorted, "Doesn't like raiders, and I like her."

Preston felt himself smiling despite himself at that, shifting his laser musket on his shoulder. "I think I like that too."

There was a silence of a kind that settled on the group, this time a little more comfortable. It was not perfectly quiet, as there was some flitting of birds, angry ground squirrels and there was the sound of feet and hooves walking from stone to grass.

"There it is," Deegan's rough voice spoke up, the scarred man motioning ahead and slightly to the right where there was a surprisingly tall wooden structure colored dark green most with some brown still. At least two-stories and built into and around the frame of the high voltage tower.

It was… pretty smart really, Preston realized, using the metal frame of the tower to help support things. There was no telling what the interior looked like, but there were glimpses of working lights in the evening light, inside and some outside. There was a lantern chain almost hidden up top, though not too close what looked like lookout roosts.

The settlement was somehow the most amazing thing that Preston had seen in a long time, and seemingly just too far away. But the young man shifted and adjusted his musket again before glancing back at the group. More so stepping to the side as he took slow deep breaths. Watching their backtrail intently, though Abby was already doing that from her lingering spot in the far back. Staying back there as Jarrard rested his head on her back while checking wounds on his arms.

A semi distant whistle signaled that the farm had spotted them. Not hard to do with twelve people and three adult Brahmin.

Deegan lifted his rifle, and then switched to his free arm to do a slow wave. He glanced to the side and reached out to gently prod the elder of the group, "I see you tilting Maddy, almost there."

"I'm fine, fine," Mama Murphy complained as she stood up. She glared around but the nearest Minuteman gave a grin and offered his elbow that was soon grabbed.

Deegan smiled as he turned his attention away to help the others down a hill and to the straight away across the field to the farm. Stretching his legs to clear the last bit of distance first to meet Blake. The shorter man offered an arm for a clasp, though looked very confused, and worried.

"That was a strangely fast trip Mr Deegan." Blake eyed the group, his eyebrows raising at seeing the calves, then slowly frowned at seeing the dirty uniforms. More than a few were covered in old blood that looked to be a mix of coming from others and their own. The general condition of those slowly shuffling closer. "Minutemen?"

"Quincy survivors," Deegan rumbled, and nodded to the dark young man that had a scrape on his cheek, and what looked like a bite mark on his neck. Blue and red eyes glanced to Connie as she came out, a pistol on her hip, the younger kids staying up on the roof with the roosts. It looked like Abby at least, one of her younger siblings, so Noel might be around, "These are the only surviving Minutemen that tried to save Quincy's people, and have been sticking to them over the last weeks… they need rest, food and healing before trying setting up on their own."

"Oh gods," Connie breathed as that information settled. The woman gripped her husband's arm and almost gave him a sharp look.

Blake took a deep breath, feeling like he was on a tipping point as he glanced around, seeing his daughters both watching him intently from the new addition to the property, the broken shipping truck back they had all been working on that day even before Deegan left in the early morning. As it was broken almost in half down the middle, though off center, Blake had been welding to cut it. He suddenly became aware of the younger kids they jointly took in were peering over the roof edge, their older sister was with Lana that night to learn more about the rabbits. But the aged ghoul Noel stepping up to the open doorway to the farm house, a scared hand resting in the frame as he eyed the survivors with sympathy.

Valory dragged the container uphill for them to move the Brahmin into a bigger area. Before moving the other third was brought over to the side of the farm. Making a sort of shield between the forest and the wide plot that would be growing razorgrain this year. The camper safe in-between that and the farm, with two of the smaller shipping containers on either side of it. Making another propped shield for any stray bullets and with only a little tinkering Blake will have them as storage, he just needed to work out how to put in shelves inside.

Over in the new Brahmin area, Mary was in the new stall with Clarabell, sitting on a chair while brushing the old girl after everything done to her. The swollen udder looking much better after draining it again that day of what seemed like the last of the infection.

Lucy was watching from the porch, having come down from the lookout roost. Her expression looking worried as she glanced back inside, doing some sort of judgement on how to help.

Blake met his wife's eyes for what seemed like the longest moment. One of those moments that just….let him understand her, let her see his mind. Let them have an entire conversation within that moment of time. The man shifted to grasp and squeeze Connie's hand as he looked pointedly at the glistening red of ready crops. Almost half the surviving farm was ready, and the rest of new growth would be ready in the next few days even if smaller tatos.

Blake turned to Deegan, "We may not be able to help long-long term, but we can help them recover now."

"The brahmin can go in the new corral pen and shelter with Clarabell." Connie said standing up tall, motioned to Lucy, "Help your sister out of there, and grab a basket full of tatos. No, draw some water first. We have low rads here anyways."

"When was the last time they ate?" Blake asked, suddenly very grateful that Valory had hunted the night before and left them the stag after making a meal of the innerards and a full haunch. Not to mention their now working refrigerator for the meat he had been slowly filling as he butchered the dear.

"I gave them some jerky this morning, but I think it's been a few days, if not more since they had anything substantial." Deegan said, shifting the rifle he had and waved the group over the last twenty or so feet. "Blake, this is Preston. He's a bit dead on his feet."

The dark skin man was...not that much older then Blake's girls he realized, or Lana. Yet still came forward to offer an arm clasp, even if it was lacking proper strength. "Hello sir. I'm sorry to intrude. Deegan here said you might be able to help these focks. I don't expect anything for free so once my men and I had a chance to rest, we'll be happy to help with whatever you need."

Seven men and women in varying states of health nodded in agreement.

"That's not important right now," Blake said firmly, reaching to put a hand on Preston's shoulder. "Breathe young man. You can rest and get some tatos in you, at least we have some protein to spare."

"Soup would be best." Connie said as she moved to help get the elder woman over and to sit down on a crate by the porch. Spotting the couple staying close, seeing the joint traumatized expressions and recognizing it from another couple that used to live with them years back.

The group on a whole were almost too quiet, the civilian four being helped inside first. Getting some water into them as tatos were rapidly boiled. Not the tastiest meal Connie knew, but rapidly picked some dandelions and the yellow flowers Lana had been excited about and showed how to make tea out of them.

Connie found the Minutemen survivors getting the brahmin in the new corral. Well two were helping, the others were in the shade of the building from the evening glare...and just seemed to sink to the ground. The two that managed to take their packs off and we're just laying in the grass, one just fell asleep halfway through trying to take her pack off. The others just dosing off using a bag or rifle to help prop themselves up.

Preston had managed to lean on the wall and was possibly asleep on his feet as well. At least he was balanced for now.

Connie fetched another two buckets of water, coming back to finding her daughters still in with the brahmin… milking the new cows.

My smart girls, Connie thought, suddenly even more proud of them. Milk would be gentler on starving stomachs. Her eyes landed on the single headed calves for a moment before taking several deep, calming breaths as she turned back to where her husband was helping.

Suddenly, Connie was very much grateful for the last weeks. Even with the raiders and in spite of Mary getting hurt, meeting Deegan, Lana and more importantly Valory… she was starting to think of it as a blessing. Connie could see that fear made shell Blake had slowly been building over the last years starting to crack, facing down raiders with a Deathclaw rising up behind them- helping take down the local raiders in the bunker, meeting the ghoulified carpenter brothers. That last storm that would have killed or ghoulfied them all and instead they had access to a bunker and found the surviving kids.

And now this.

Connie hoped the rest of that shell would break with this. That she could see that side of Blake when he hunted mutated spiders and nests to help not just them but for the safety of all those around them. He was an amazing man, it's why Connie proposed to him, and was happy to take the risks of pregnancy. Twice.

As the evening continued, they managed to get the Minutemen inside for the night and a little bit of food in them. Connie was struck with how… young they all were. Two of them seemed like they were 18 at most, Preston as the highest ranked could not have been more than 24 if that.

Deegan drew the woman aside outside as it was getting property dark, his rifle and shotgun were back on his back, though his pack was very light, if not near empty. "What is it?"

"I'm going to try going north, again," Deegan chuckled with a low rumble, and Connie smiled back. He nodded inside, "I know this is a lot, I'm going to make sure the back trail is safe, and I'll pick up a powercore for your bigger generator. And what I can."

The woman nodded, her dirty blond hair pulled up into a ponytail as she worked. "Anything that will help. I'll make sure these folks get a fair, healthy chance to recover. You've always bought full crops for your family and men, and I think you brought some more good luck before those calves."

"Lana and her sister," Deegan hummed as he looked back to where the dam and Co-op were. "I have the feeling that they're going to be important here, even if she doesn't find that seed vault."

There was a pause between them, something thoughtful rather than awkward as they listened to Blake inside explain to his daughters how to wrap something. Deegan was the first to speak, the softness in his eyes sharpening a little as he looked towards the northeast.

"Those raiders were from the northern satellite station?"

Connie looked up, the ghoul's eyes seemed to be solid red and she was struck by the image for a moment. She did not need to know what raider group he meant, the ones in the now locked stockpile bunker were all dead and buried. It was the group that had been harassing them before Valory stepped in. "Yes… the girls mentioned the station."

Deegan nodded, paused and rested a hand on Connie's head, "You look too much like your grandmother like this. More subtle sass though. If you have it in you to do me another favor?"

Connie reached up to put her hand on the scared one, "What is it old man?"

Subtle sass indeed.

"I know you still need to look after your family...but could you keep an eye on Preston? That kid is good, but may take a walk into the lake once he thinks he isn't needed."

"I can't guarantee," Connie considered and then frowned as the hand was lifted off her head., "But I can see if he's willing to help us, and Lana?"

"That might do it." Deegan nodded, "If I'm not back in the morning, it might be a week."

Connie nodded slowly, "You have your family to make safe… Deegan?" When red eyes met her, she asked, "If you see my locket? The one great grandma passed down."

Deegan wrapped an arm around Connie, squishing her against his side in a reassuringly tight hug, "I'll see if I can find it. And send more people your way as well as Lana's."

"Thank you Deegan."

Reviews!

Justsomerandombastard:

And he's another chapter! For defenses, you mean that Preston comes up with? Yes I can see him starting something, am thinking of some ideas Prestion might have. Thought the first few days they're going to be relying on the animals around as the Minutemen recover. With resorces tight he's going to have to get creative with the other Commonwealth natives [burbs are coming!].

...also having two deathclaws protecting the territory makes a big difference! That male is pretty smart to know where Valory is protecting after all.