A/N: Hail from my perch atop the crow's nest of craziness, and welcome to the next chapter of our interdimensional adventure! I hope this greeting finds you well! Here we are, on the precipice of the Institute, but we aren't quite there yet. We've come a long way to get here, but we're only getting started with this adventure. As always, let me know what you think, leave a review, and enjoy!

Chapter 24: It's Never That Simple.

"I think the question is whether we take Cassandra and Thomas back with us?" Nate was sitting on what was left of a couch that I think at some point had a ridiculous, stripped pattern. It was faded into thin lines running up the fabric now.

Going back to Sanctuary was dangerous, especially with the number of people on our asses. There's always the option of bringing Curie to the Railroad. If we lead the Brotherhood, Kleo, or the Gunners (if they've figured out what I did at CIT) to Sanctuary, it would be very bad news for the settlement. The Brotherhood would hold them hostage, Kleo and the Gunners would probably destroy it. I can't let them suffer because someone drew a connection between them and I.

"No." I looked at our charge, likewise sitting on an ancient, dilapidated piece of furniture. "Too many groups pose a threat to risk involving them. If no one's put us and them together yet, I can't take that chance."

The ex-soldier cocked an eyebrow. "You're the one who suggested it."

"And I re-evaluated the situation."

"What are you suggesting then", Curie asked, concern tinging the edge of her voice.

"The best option would be the Railroad."

There are security questions involved, but they're ones I'm not equipped to answer: would the Institute predict the Railroad would search here for supplies? Would they leave a plant here to catch them, and for as long as it seems Curie had been there? Do they even know the equipment there would be useful to the Railroad? Are there other places this equipment would be? If we go this route, I'd have to wait until I could ask Deacon.

Aside from our initial meeting which, granted, was a surprise greeting, the Synth had done well controlling her emotions. That's why, when she frowned at the mention of the Railroad, it raised questions.

"You don't like that idea."

"It isn't that I don't like the idea…" She trailed off. That probably meant she couldn't come up with a lie she liked.

Nate picked up on that too. "So you don't have the best relationship with them."

Curie bit her lower lip as she thought, eyes jumping between the smaller man and I.

This should be good.

"I've never met them before, actually." She offered a small smile. "I've heard plenty about the group though."

"Things you don't like", Nate asked.

"It's… complicated. Don't get me wrong, they do a lot of good things but- from what I can tell they're a bit too single minded for my liking. What they do is for a good cause, and I understand they need to stay hidden with the Institute of all people coming after them, but they could- should do a lot more."

That's an interesting way of putting it.

"What do you mean?"

Apparently Nate thought so too.

"Well…" Curie paused for a moment again, staring at the crumbling ceiling above us. "They take responsibility for saving Synths, but not for anything that happens afterwards. As far as I am aware, they usually wipe their minds and set them loose. The skills and experience most of them have could be invaluable to people in the Commonwealth. Yeah, sure, maybe they check in on them from time to time, but even without exposing themselves, they could help make this a much better place to live."

That sounded a little idealistic to me. Anyone looking in from the outside could see if the groups here cooperated, or at the very least stopped getting in each other's way things would improve dramatically. Three parties in particular came to mind, and I was on the bad side of all of them. I guess that could be considered a positive.

My companion cleared his throat. "So you're suggesting they, what, start sending the Synths they rescue to settlements and towns to help?"

She nodded. "Among other things, yes."

"What kind of skills do most Synths have?"

"Oh plenty. Not all are the same, but anything from gardening to medical to combat. I'm sure you've heard of Coursers."

I've killed one.

"Yes."

"Imagine what one of them could do for the small settlements out there with people merely trying to survive day to day. Or one programmed for farming, construction. Don't misunderstand, the Institute is just as guilty, more concerned with hoarding their knowledge and technology for themselves than anything else, but the Railroad could help and doesn't."

My mind flashed to the 'errand' Deacon had sent Nate and I on. The Raider gang Burner was a part of was small, but well organized with a fortified, defensible position. She brought up a good point: why would they allow one of the Synths they rescued to join the Raiders? Same for the one Deacon had gone after himself with the Gunners. That's an organization I wouldn't mind getting rid of. That does lead me to one question though.

"What kind of knowledge and technology?"

"An easier question would be what they don't have." Curie scowled. "CIT was one of the most prestigious schools in the world when the bombs fell. The Institute was built with and on its knowledge. They had access to any information they wanted, and they've spent the last 200 years squirrelled away underground developing new technology they won't do anything with. They can create artificial humans for god's sake. They have a teleportation system that, if they worked with the 'dirty' settlers above ground, could instantly transport a person from one side of the Commonwealth to the other, without the danger of walking. Agriculture, medicine, clothing, genealogy, anti-radiation measures- think about it: clean, potable water. They could do all of this and yet they sit underground and do nothing."

By this point the woman was livid. I couldn't disagree. From the sounds of it, they have the technology this world would if it hadn't blown itself to the seventh level of hell 200 years ago. Any group that was able to harness it could rejuvenate this area. Shit, given enough time, and cooperation (the hard part), the planet.

But then there's the other side of that: in the wrong hands, that technology could be another disaster. From what I've heard of them, it's probably better the Institute kept to themselves, I wouldn't trust them to wield it properly. The way she said 'dirty settlers' makes me think the reason they don't help the people out here is because they consider them lesser. Mix in superior technology, and that's a bad situation.

I would know.

"So", Nate said, breaking the brief silence, "you think the Railroad should be doing more since they can get their hands on at least the knowledge the Institute has." Curie nodded curtly. The ex-soldier leaned back and his 200 plus year old couch groaned ominously. "Yeah, that sounds- not great. And the Institute doesn't have any interest in sharing it themselves." Another nod and Nate looked at me. "Sounds like Shaun was kidnapped by some real winners."

That's one way to put it.

"They kidnapped someone?"

The ex-soldier's face fell. If anything, recent events have made the subject that much sorer for him.

"Yes", I answered for the smaller man, "his son."

"Oh- I'm…" Curie looked appropriately apologetic and horrified.

Nate shook his head, but I could see the pleading in his eyes. "Do you know what they do with people they kidnap?"

"Sorry, I don't." Our charge's voice bordered on stricken. Despite everything she must have seen to this point, the woman held onto her empathy. It was… admirable.

The answer hurt, but the ex-soldier took a deep breath and nodded. "I get it. It wouldn't change what we have to do." Another deep breath. "Okay", he said, voice firm, "so we know why you don't like the Railroad. If Sanctuary isn't an option we want to risk for now, would you be comfortable staying with them for the time being? At least until we can get you somewhere else safely."

Curie nodded, face solemn. "I can accommodate for now."

I nodded. "Get some sleep", I said and began toward the door- or door frame since the door was long gone, leaving the large pack Curie had saddled me with. It had several smaller pieces of equipment she said she needed to continue her work. As far as I understood, she was attempting to develop various drugs from anti-radiation to anti-bacterial. The other two had smaller backpacks carrying supplies and materials, Nate with our prizes for the Railroad in his.

"You don-", she started, but Nate cut her off with a wave.

"It's alright, he's fine taking watch alone tonight."

Her confused frown almost made me smile. "Did I miss something? Did you take a nap while we were walking here?"

Nate did smile. "He does this a lot, don't worry about it."

"If you say so", she replied after a moment's hesitation.

Stepping out into the dark, early night air, I took a deep breath. It wasn't because I was nervous, and certainly not because I was tired, but I was tense. Everything was so… wrong. Nothing has gone the way I've planned, and everything I've been trying to do has just made things worse. Hell I haven't made a good decision since I chose to stick with Nate. The disaster in Goodneighbor, the way I approached the Brotherhood, how I handled them once we were there, the ambush…

No, I did do one thing right: Nate, Cassandra, and Thomas are all still alive and safe. Julian, for having lost him, is still probably alive and safe. And now we're on the Institute's doorstep.

Strangely, that didn't excite me all that much. These people are the best chance I have to get back to the UNSC but… now I have things I want to do here. I can't leave the three kids separated, I can't leave Sanctuary vulnerable, I can't leave Nate in limbo, even once he finds Shaun. So what do I do? How do I fix this?

Huh. The god ordained grim reaper with a heart?

… Maybe.

Well, I don't get to make that decision until I'm at the Institute, so how am I going to get there?

The first risk is being found before the Railroad can get the relay built. I didn't see that as much of an issue at this point. Even if those men I let go yesterday told someone where we were, we'd covered the best part of 25 kilometers. By now we were back in the more densely 'developed' suburbs of the city. The broken skyline wasn't just a looming shadow in the night, it was damn near over us. The proximity to the city made security both easier and harder, but I didn't want the trip to be another three day affair and it was less likely we would have been followed back to the city.

After that…? The ever present question: will the Institute cooperate? They don't sound like the most cooperative people and I'm not confident in strong arming a (relatively) technologically advanced entity into doing what I want. That's without the added variable of teleporting into their facility without any recon or intel.

Yeah. I chuckled. That'll be interesting.

At the end of the day, I'll find some way to make it work. It's what I do. This one will probably just take a little more brain power to handle.

The next morning the other two were up just before the sun peeked over the eastern horizon, casting a dull orange glow over the city looming ahead of us. We had about 10 klicks left to cover, half of it the convoluted route Deacon led us through on our way out. After Nate sent a message to the Railroad signaling our return, we set out to rendezvous with the man.

My pack had annoyed me the day prior, and it wasn't any better now. The thing weighed going on 80 kilos, but that wasn't the problem, it was the size. To say Mjolnir isn't slim would be an understatement. It certainly isn't cumbersome, but the armor is meant to take a lot of punishment. Add on the large pack I had looped over my shoulders, climbing around and through the collapsed buildings and piles of rubble strewn across the city was aggravating. Dumping the damn thing crossed my mind every time it got snagged.

It took almost two hours to cover the distance to our rendezvous. Now we were in the city, I forced the other two to move slower. If I wasn't able to operate at my normal pace with the others tagging along, we had to go careful and slow. I hated it, but even if anyone tailing us hadn't followed Nate and I out, they may have been aware of our exit. I was careful to avoid using the same route, no point in taking chances when it wasn't necessary.

For some reason I had to relearn that painful lesson from Kleo.

We met Deacon at the entrance to the subway he had led us through. He hid it well, but there was an instant of alarm behind his dark tinted sunglasses when he saw we'd picked up another stray.

The Railroad agent stopped once we were safely inside the transit tunnel and began his questioning.

"Well… I think the most obvious thing to ask is who is our newest guest?"

"Deacon, this is Curie", Nate replied. "We met at the facility you sent us to. She was there developing new treatments for radiation and infection. We brought her back with us because Kleo hired some mercenaries to kill her. It wasn't safe anymore."

Our escort eyed her incredulously. "I know, unless the Institute or whoever else you might work for has the ability to tell the future, you didn't know we'd be sending these two there but", he turned to the ex-soldier, "you know how important secrecy is to us. Why would you risk this?"

"It was either bring her here or leave her", I said before my companion could answer.

Both smaller men turned to me. Nate didn't hide his surprise well enough.

"I see", Deacon said after a short pause. "And you trust her?"

I looked down at Curie whose jaw was set a little too firm to be normal. Do I trust her? Two days isn't enough for someone to earn my trust, not even close. Do I trust she isn't a spy of some sort?

"What are the odds the Institute or someone else would plant her there in the hopes you might use the facility for supplies, and that you'd bring her back with you."

The agent cocked an eyebrow. "Low. The equipment there, or what we asked you to get, isn't common, hence us only using it for this application. There would be much more likely locations to search for us first."

"Could the Institute know about it and its potential use?"

He paused. If the Railroad knew this stuff was there the Institute, with their relative abundance of resources, probably would too. The question there is would they commit the resources to guarding it?

"Yes, but it isn't their MO to put a plant there like that. It's a long shot, and they're all about playing safe odds. It's the main reason we've been able to stay ahead of them. Then there's always the possibility they'd switch up their strategies to catch us off guard…"

Deacon studied the Synth as she looked at me out of the side of her eye, this time not hiding her irritation. She'd probably ask why I didn't mention this before, well, it's for this reason.

"We've got a safehouse nearby we can set her up in for now", the agent finally said. "I'm not going to risk bringing her to headquarters."

"That's fine", Curie replied before either Nate or I could. It was a little too quick. Deacon cocked an eyebrow, but didn't say anything.

"Alright then, let's get it in gear."

As we went on a detour through the maze of crumbling subway tunnels and the occasional climb back to the surface to circumvent blocked tunnels, Curie seemed relieved. That made me think there were other reasons she didn't want to spend too much time around the Railroad. It also reinforced the idea she wasn't a spy; why would she be happy she wasn't being led to their base of operations?

It didn't take long, maybe another hour of trudging through the ruined city, before we found ourselves in another mostly destroyed subway station. A quick check confirmed the main entrance above had been sealed by some sort of collapse, maybe a building had fallen over the surface station.

"Will this work", Deacon asked. The safehouse itself was constructed in what looked like a break/maintenance area, with the common room making up the primary living quarters. It was a good setup; the location was impossible to get to from above and it had various maintenance passages that could be used as escape routes and storage spaces for long term supplies.

Curie was busy searching the place.

"Do you have anything recording me here?"

The Synth was careful, attentive, and clearly intelligent. The intel she gave me on the Railroad and Institute, while not necessarily actionable, was certainly good contextual information. That Information is something I'd been missing with the Brotherhood, and while not directly usable, it assists decision making. If I want to avoid making the same mistakes, I'd need as much as possible.

If we could get her to Sanctuary, she'd be an invaluable asset to the small settlement.

"No, there is a handheld radio stashed inside the wall behind the bed." Deacon shrugged. "Won't do you much good down here, but that's about it."

The two stared each other down in silence for a few beats before Curie nodded. That was a good point, I'm so used to ground penetrating signals that allowed comms and surveillance in subterranean areas (to an extent), I didn't think about what they'd have access to. If they were limited to standard VHF and basic digital signals, they'd need hardwired equipment. It wouldn't make sense to set up that kind of infrastructure for a safehouse.

"Okay, this works for me then." She frowned at me. "For now."

It's better than being shot. You're welcome.

"We still intend to bring you to Sanctuary when it's safe."

Curie held my gaze for a few more seconds before shrugging. "Who knows, maybe I'll find my own solution by then."

I- kind of hoped she didn't. Sanctuary could use someone like her.

Nate cleared his throat. The ex-soldier was probably thinking the same thing. "Hopefully it won't take too long. It's a good place, good people."

She looked at him, curious. "You spend a lot of time there?"

"Uh… you could say that." Curie opened her mouth, probably to ask, but Nate waved her off. "That's a story I'd rather not tell."

She cocked an eyebrow and looked from the smaller man to me, but if he wasn't going to explain his situation, I sure as hell wasn't.

"So you're expecting me to wait here for you", she said after a moment's pause. Guess she knew that wasn't going anywhere.

Despite wanting to add her skill set to Sanctuary's (hopefully) growing population, she's fully capable of making it on her own. The Synth isn't mission critical, nor does she provide any real assistance getting to the Institute. Nate and I are on their doorstep, and unless she's hiding something, she can't expedite that. It would be good to have her help look after Cassandra and Thomas, if I can trust her. I still don't. Hell leaving them with the Railroad while we ran this 'errand' was stressful enough.

"No. You can leave whenever you want. You needed an alternative to staying in that facility and being hunted down. All I did was offer one." I pulled the large pack off and set it on the floor in front of her.

Nate hurriedly held his hands out, palms up like he was trying to placate her. "Don't take that the wrong way." He shot me a glare. "I'm hoping you do. There are a lot of people who I think could use your help. Big, strong, and dumb does too, he's just terrible at using his brain for anything but fighting."

I've gotten past bristling at the ex-soldier's infantile insults. Curie seemed to think the same, watching him with a bemused frown.

Deacon was too. Damn, I'd almost forgotten the Railroad agent was there which was… odd, and a little disconcerting. It wasn't hard to guess he was a covert operative, but this went past that; he was so still, and so quiet it was easy to lose track of the man. If I had to guess, that was a talent developed over years of eavesdropping on conversations he wasn't supposed to hear.

"Well, if I'm still here when you get back that means I decided to wait", Curie replied. "Now if you please, I've got work to do."

The Synth practically ushered us out of the safehouse which was… amusing considering she'd just gotten there and it was the Railroad's asset.

"Interesting one you two found there."

Yeah. She had a lot to say about you.

Despite her misgivings, I couldn't necessarily condemn the Railroad. From what I've seen and heard, they were operating against, possibly, the most powerful organization in the world with extremely limited resources. They didn't have a choice but to squelch any possible info leaks. OpSec is priority number one for them, and leaving Synths to roam this wasteland was a massive risk.

Nate replied to the affirmative, but other than that, the hour long trudge back to the Railroad's headquarters was done in silence.

Desdemona and her group met us with slightly less suspicion than they had the first time around. Before either of us delivered the supplies to Tinker Tom, who was eagerly awaiting us beneath what I could only describe as a large steel gantry, we found Thomas and Cassandra. They were eating with the same Railroad agent who had been talking with them before we left. He was a few centimeters taller than Nate, with close cropped blonde hair, but the ex-soldier was more sturdily built. He was wearing the same thick armored leather jacket as the others.

The man nodded to us before turning to Cassandra. "I'll let you guys catch up. Let me know if you need anything, okay?" She nodded and he picked up his plate and started for a table on the other side of the cavern.

"Hey", the teenage girl said. Her voice was still quiet, but she did seem almost excited to see us. And possibly a bit relieved. "I'm guessing you found the stuff you needed."

I nodded, and saw Nate doing so as well out of my periphery. Thomas almost jumped from his chair as we neared and scrambled over. The young kid stared almost straight up at me, as usual, his eyes were the size of dinner plates.

"Did you find Julian?" He sounded so hopeful and so desperate at the same time, seeing the yearning on his incredibly young face felt like someone digging a hole in my stomach with a plasma sword.

I knelt and opened my mouth, but the words fell short of coming out. What am I supposed to say, 'no'? It was the correct answer, but saying it felt wrong. I didn't want to ruin the young boy's hopes, but I didn't want to lie to him either. After everything, he deserves better than that, especially from me of all people.

"Hey Thomas", Nate said, crouching next to me, "we haven't yet, but we got a lot closer."

He looked crestfallen. Good job Nate, that wasn't any better than I would have done.

"We'll find him", I interjected. "We need to do a few things first, but now I should have time to go looking again."

"Do you know when you'll find him?"

I glanced up at Cassandra, and her eyes weren't angry anymore, if anything they were asking the same question.

"As soon as I can." The answer was a cop out, and everyone there knew it.

But they also know I mean it, at least the three people that matter did.

Thomas looked like he was on the edge of crying, but he took a deep breath through his clogged nose and nodded. "Please don't take too long. I- I want the-" the kid paused for a moment to take another deep breath, "him back."

There was an echo to that statement he didn't say: 'them', his family, his parents, his home, and that was almost as painful as what he had said. I know that pain all too well. I've spent all this time trying to, somehow, make up for losing mine. I'm starting to realize it's something I'll never do.

That hurt too.

If Nate's hard set jaw and stiff back were anything to judge by, he was deep in anguish too.

And it dawned on me: Shaun… he's in the same situation I am, the same one Thomas is. For all he knows, both of his parents died when he was still a baby. He lost everything, maybe not in a manner as gruesome, but they're still gone. This isn't just about getting to the Institute, it's about giving a kid his life back, a life I never got, and Thomas is very close to having stolen from him.

Holy shit. The realization hit me like a bomb. I can't ever undo what the Covenant did to me. I can't undo what the Supermutants did to Cassandra, Thomas, and Julian.

But I can stop it from happening to Shaun. I don't have to let him suffer the same way I have. The same way they have. The next objective in this insane journey suddenly took on an entirely different meaning. It wasn't just another step along the way; with this… I might find something, accomplish something real, something genuine.

A mixture of excitement and tension wormed its way into the back of my head. I can't fail this time. Not again.

"I won't."

Half an hour later, Nate and I were standing beside Tinker Tom on the platform he had constructed for the relay. The relay itself was… not promising. And that's an understatement. It was a steel gantry that ran floor to ceiling with a dozen large bundles of cables attached at various points leading to an ancient (even for this place) server. On top was an ominous looking array of capacitors and antenna wired to a massive inductance loop.

The first question that came to mind was where they got this equipment. A lot of the electrical components looked like they were produced in a factory; the fit and finish was far better than the fabrication work these people had done. It was likely they'd been sitting on these until they had an opportunity to use them but…

We're supposed to trust this thing?

"You think this will work?"

"Oh", Tom said cheerily, "I have no idea. Never tested something like this, I've never had a chance to. Theoretically it should, we just need to tap into their relay network and let that do the work. The only thing this does is create an extremely localized, extremely dense point in space time that… one could call a black hole. We feed the Courser's programmed signal to it and our wormhole will connect to their network."

This guy's roll wasn't going to stop any time soon. He talked faster than most DIs I know when they're tearing someone (usually me) a new asshole.

"The Institute already has set locations programmed for transit. The hard part is keeping everything happy, see in order to make a black hole a wormhole you have to make sure the bridge between it and the network doesn't close, otherwise you run into a dead end. To do that we-"

"I think we know enough to know we won't be understanding this with a 15 minute lecture", Nate interjected. "How do we know it worked?"

"Uh", the mechanic glanced up at the ceiling, "you end up in the Institute instead of, you know, dead."

Great.

I caught the smaller man's bewildered, concerned frown out of the corner of my eye. "We can't check before we go in?"

"Nope. If we kept it open any longer than a few nanoseconds, it would cause- well it would cause a lot of problems."

"Great." I said it aloud this time.

"If you-" I held up a hand.

"You're running an experiment, and we're your test."

"That's only partially true, I-"

"Can you run a trial beforehand?"

Tinker Tom frowned. "No, if we do, they'll realize the codes are from the dead Courser and decommission them."

I glanced at the ex-soldier whose face was a mask of incredulity.

"Are you sure this is the only way we can get in", he said. "There's nothing else we can do?"

"Not unless you have a really, really big shovel and a lot of time."

"I find it hard to believe there's no conventional entrance. What if their teleportation network fails?"

"They can live down there, like, forever. They can grow all the food they need, have all the power they need, and can recycle water."

If that's true, I have to admit it's a pretty damn good setup. I know a lot of insurrectionists that wish they had that. Or wished they had that.

"How long will this take to finish", Nate asked.

The dark skinned man looked from us, up to his contraption, and back. "I'll have to test the stuff you recovered, but as long as it all checks out, it should be ready to go in about a week." He paused, squinting. "Maybe ten days."

Right, so two weeks.

That would be a lot of time to sit and do nothing. Lucky for me, there are plenty of people who want me dead. While I may be trying to keep new enemies to a minimum, those that are already after me, well… too bad for them.

Especially the Brotherhood.

Through the rest of the day, the four of us sat quietly in the corner of the cavern by the small kitchenette while Tom worked. A few of the Railroad agents stopped by, the one I'd seen with Cassandra and Thomas when we returned even played some cards with the three of them. He shot me a questioning look when I didn't join in, but Nate brushed my reluctance off as normal. He wasn't entirely wrong about that, but even though I'd only been back for a few hours, I was already beginning to feel restless. The thought of sitting around until the Relay was done sounded unbearable.

It was just after the man, Chris, finished their last hand when I decided I'd go insane unless I did something productive.

X

As the sky finished dimming, light receding over the western horizon, I activated my NVS and the darkness was chased away. The facility ahead of me looked like a factory of some sort. The chimneys on the roof allowed a gentle stream of dark, sooty smoke to flow out, which means something in there is still powered. There were 'emplacements' scattered across the various catwalks and roof, but they were so poorly protected or concealed, the Raiders in them were closer to beacons than deterrents.

It was set near a river, the I-95 looming, and broken behind it. The collection of broken trees and the occasional group of rocks would provide decent visual cover for an approach, provided it was night. It didn't look like these Raiders had equipped the structure with flood lighting, no surprise there.

Forged.

Oh that's right, Alexandra had said these assholes like being called 'Forged', not just Raiders. Whatever. They pose a significant threat to Sanctuary. I may not be able to go back to the settlement, yet, but I can still make good on my word. Plus, I felt a pang of sympathy for Charlie, the sickly teenager who had lost his parents to radiation sickness because of these MFers. It seems that type of story isn't uncommon around here. That doesn't mean I'm any less inclined to hate them for it. Maybe I'm projecting my emotions onto this situation, but I know what that feels like.

Is that why I humped 30 klicks from the Railroad's base of operations again? To find someone to take my anger out on?

I shrugged mentally. I didn't know, but I can do something useful by neutralizing this threat to Sanctuary.

So here I am, hiding in a small collection of rocks 10 klicks east of Sanctuary, maybe 20 from the city proper. I was waiting for the moment I knew would come soon enough, when the drug addicted wannabe tough guys would begin relaxing. They think the night means security. Around here that's probably the case, for the most part.

They won't live to regret that.

This wasn't my first choice of activity while waiting for Tom to finish that cobbled together dumpster fire in the making. When I first left the Railroad's hideout, I intended to gather information on the Brotherhood. Not only did that prove fruitless, it was impossible to get anywhere near the airport, even for me. Flood illumination, a patrolled perimeter with constant air support and overlapping shifts and routes. I don't know if they did all of that for me, or they're being overly cautious, but whatever the case was they had their operation locked down. I skirted a safe distance from the perimeter, looking for any weaknesses, watching for away parties to leave or return, but there was nothing.

Their security was top notch, even by my standards. There would be no sneaking past the perimeter. If I'd scared them that bad, it was flattering. They know I know what their capabilities are, so it's possible they're concerned I'll launch a counterattack. I'd be lying if I said the thought hadn't crossed my mind. I was right there. If the Brotherhood still had Julian, and they were so concerned with operational security they would shut down all away Ops, he'd be there too.

But I knew that was stupid. Diving in head first against a force like this without appropriate preparation would be suicide. Hell, even with proper preparations, I wouldn't be doing this alone.

So as much as it pained me, I left after a two days of searching for any potential weakness. Of course I spotted several, but most would either require a fighting force I didn't have access to, or something to drop from high altitude in.

I berated myself as I began trudging southwest, back toward what was formerly downtown Boston. How do I not have a strategy yet? These guys are well prepared, relatively well equipped, and organized. But I've done this a hundred times, some when my target knew I was coming; these people wouldn't have been on my radar a few months ago and now I can't do anything?

That was my ego talking and I knew it. I'd do everything I could to get Julian back, but it wouldn't help anyone if I got myself killed taking on a standing force of a few thousand.

The rest of that night was spent sitting in a crumbling warehouse, silently fuming. I could justify the situation rationally, but that didn't stop the irrational part of me continuing to chide myself. Yes, their perimeter was secure, but I was able to get within a klick of Julian (most likely).

And I'd done nothing.

What would they be doing to him? He doesn't know anything, so torture wouldn't make sense.

What if they're brainwashing him? Sure, they'd kidnapped him, but tell someone, especially that young, something enough times, reality ceases to matter.

If they were, I couldn't let him stay there, I couldn't let them poison him, I couldn't- wouldn't let what happened to me happen to him.

I have plenty of reasons to hate the people I fought. For the most part. From the atrocities the Insurrectionists regularly committed in the name of 'justice' and independence, to the Covenant… the Covenant. But there were certainly some caught in the crossfire of my hatred that hadn't deserved it. I don't know who or how many, I hadn't cared enough to ask which was starting to bug me, but I wasn't going to lay that blame at ONI's feet. I made that choice.

Julian didn't. He wanted to continue living with Cassandra and his brother. He was strong enough to do what I couldn't: continue on with life in a world that felt like it wanted you dead. He had plenty of reasons to hate it, but he hadn't, or was trying not to. It wouldn't be difficult for the Brotherhood to drag that anger out.

That can't happen. Living with this hatred and rage… it isn't worth it.

A mocking smirk twisted my lips. That didn't do it justice; something 'not being worth it' implied there was an upside. I guess I ended up a SPARTAN, but so what? All I've done with it is kill whoever ONI pointed me at. Real goddamn useful isn't it?

I checked my grip as I felt the laser rifle's case creak. I didn't need to break another one.

The silence draped over the dilapidated warehouse's interior was both a blessing and a curse. Despite Nate's insistence, I'd left him with the kids. I couldn't stay stuck in that basement for two weeks, and if I did, they'd be asking me to run operations for them. It may have been selfish of me, but I needed some time alone to think. Even with Fourier's squad, I hadn't spent so much time around someone else almost non-stop in… as long as I can remember.

It wasn't that I regretted it, the opposite in fact. So much has happened in the last two months, cooperating with Nate by no means the least significant. But at a point, I needed to unpack/

A more genuine smile drifted onto my face. I'd been right when I guessed he'd bring out a lot of things I'd wanted to leave packed away. Looking back on it… I was glad I had. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I was a part of the world around me, even if it wasn't mine. These people… at least a few of them, were worth helping, were worth spending time around. Hell, there were even a few of them I could call friends. That was a thought I never considered having.

And that drew my mind back to Julian.

Dammit. I needed something to do, someone to take my frustration out on. Someone I didn't need to be concerned about repercussions from. If I didn't, I'd end up going after the Brotherhood half cocked, and I don't like leaving things to chance. I should go back, but the thought of returning, of sitting around and doing nothing for almost two weeks after having done nothing to get closer to Julian...

So I ended up here, in the middle of nowhere (even for this hellhole) stalking a group of Raiders. Considering what I know about them, and what I've seen of them, Raiders weren't anyone I needed to worry about pissing off; they already want pretty much everyone dead already, so if I make enemies of the bastards it just means I'd be able to get rid of them faster.

Is this the… healthiest approach? No, but I wasn't going to feel bad about putting these bastards down. They aren't Supermutants or the Brotherhood, but they aren't far off.

Scattered through the partially fenced off area surrounding the factory they'd chosen as their 'home' were four Raiders. Combined with the ones on the outlooks around the building itself, that put eight outside. I'd watched at least 10 others leave and enter the structure. Considering they only used two doors, the main entrance at the front, and another on the roof, it was safe to assume the others were either impassable, or rigged.

Their patrols and rotations had no pattern I could determine, which was both good and bad. It meant any attacker wouldn't be able to predict and exploit a gap in coverage, but it also made them more likely. These assholes probably fried their brains with whatever drugs they could get their hands on, so that wasn't on purpose.

I've never attacked a fortified Raider position, but considering what I've seen here, and their ineptitude when I first encountered them, there would be plenty of opportunities.

No… I can't keep assuming that. It's that kind of arrogance that got Julian captured. I have to fight this my way.

Old faithful?

Old faithful.

I slipped away from my cover and began across the relatively open space between the factory and I. The light from the fires they had lit in the yard would disrupt their night vision, and my dark blue armor would have been difficult to spot against the featureless, almost pitch black landscape anyway. I couldn't know for sure, but I doubted any of them had NVS. Even if they do, it was less than 200 meters to the perimeter and I'd bet I'm a better shot than any of them.

No one did.

50 meters from the fenceline, I drifted to a stop.

Time to get things started.

I drew a bead on my first target, the lookout furthest from my position, and fired.

Unlike conventional firearms, laser weapons have a relatively subdued report. The first clue these morons milling around the courtyard got they were under attack was when the body of the third lookout, minus the left side of their face, crashed into one of the barrels they had lit fires in. Flaming debris exploded everywhere as the Raiders scattered. By then the last lookout was dead.

Normally, this is the part I'd use explosives to further disrupt their defenses, but these drug addicted sorry excuses for fighters were too busy running around aimlessly to be a threat.

The last 50 meters went by in an instant and I slowed just enough to put a lance through the one Raider who seemed to notice me. By the time I vaulted the fence, the last three realized what was going on and were searching out in the field behind for a threat. If I were a regular human, I'd still be out there.

I'm not a regular human.

Before any of them figured out I wasn't in the darkness beyond their perimeter, I'd put another down. The last two turned to run, probably back to the 'safety' of the factory. Four lances later and they joined the other dead bodies.

Now that I was closer, I could hear a consistent, dull thud reverberating through the facility. It was heavy enough, the ground beneath my boots pulsed rhythmically with the sound. If this is some type of metal working facility, a forgery, was the machinery inside active? Why would it be? The smoke pouring from the towers could have just been power generation, but that doesn't seem like what's happening.

Doesn't matter, get moving.

My legs didn't wait for the command. With the 'guard' dead, I began scaling the outside of the building until I reached the catwalks lining the roof. One of the guards that hadn't fallen from the roof had what looked like a relatively well maintained HK-33. Odds are they probably stole it from someone. These assholes don't generally seem to have an appreciation for keeping their equipment in working order.

I stripped the weapon and few magazines she had and… for the first time since getting here, clamped the weapon to the mag strip on my back. The laser rifle is serviceable, if not better than the conventional firearm if I'm trying to stay covert, but I'll always prefer the more familiar weapon.

The only entrance I'd seen them use was an access door near what looked like a portable shelter with several desks, computers, and filing cabinets in it. Most of the equipment was weather eroded beyond recognition, but enough of it was left to assume the rest. Strange place for that…

A quick check of the exterior didn't reveal any traps, and, as I pushed the door open a hand's breadth, the deep pounding began concussing the air around me like a Vertibird was approaching. That would drive me insane.

There were no trip wires on the inside either. That's one reason I chose the roof: getting up here would have been very difficult for anyone else.

When I glanced inside, the stairs past the door were clear, as was the landing and catwalk beyond. And that's the second reason I chose this approach.

There was a door set in the wall across from me on the landing below. It was too low to be another roof access point, and I don't remember seeing anything in that position.

I slipped down the stairs, setting my titanium armored boots on the cracked, crumbling concrete as gently as possible. Vibration damping soles could only do so much, but realistically it was more out of habit than anything. Whatever machinery these morons had active made moving quietly almost moot.

As I neared the door, I could hear shouting coming from the other side, just loud enough to make out over the booming equipment. There was no hope in hell I'd hear what they were saying, and I didn't want the headache from turning the gain in my helmet up enough to make it out.

But my curiosity got the better of me.

After another check for traps, I pulled the door open a fraction.

"You pussy", someone shouted in a raspy, guttural bellow, "what use are you if you won't kill anyone."

Well that had me confused immediately.

Another voice shouted back, less in anger, more desperation. It was young too. "Slag-"

"I don't want to hear your bullshit. You came to me from that sorry excuse of a family. Prove you're worth my time."

"Slag, you told me we'd be raiding outside the commonwealth. These people aren't a threat to us."

"Aw, are you scared for them? You want me to leave your family alone? Is that it?"

Family?

"I- I brought you everything you wanted." The second voice had, somehow, grown even more desperate, with a sharp edge that sounded like he was about ready to piss himself.

"Stealing from your family doesn't take strength, boy."

"No, I'm here because I want to join you, I just don't want to have to hurt them to do it."

Had he come here to protect his family?

"Jake, Jake, Jake", the Raider, Slag, sounded genuinely disappointed, "I don't want chicken shits who can't fight. Who can't kill. I like this sword you brought me, it's put me in the mood to give you one last chance."

"But-"

"Prove to me you can kill. It's either him or you." A short pause. "You have until the count of three."

So this was an initiation into their group, and to do it, this kid needs to kill someone. That's stupid.

He won't do it. The kid is going to die.

I squeezed my eyes shut as the hand I had wedged in the door twitched, ready to pull it open. My legs were tensed, waiting to spring into action.

Leave it alone. This isn't my business. Diving in head first is a good way to get killed.

"One."

If I do nothing, whoever is in there with him dies too.

That kid chose this. Why am I doing this now? What am I going to gain from this? Why am I giving a shit about some stranger now?

Whoever this kid is, he did what he thought would keep his family safe, even if it was a dumb idea.

So I'm going to get involved and risk being killed to fix his mistake?

"Two."

Why not?

Because I could end up dead.

And this kid's family will lose someone because of a dumb decision. A decision he made to keep them safe. Whoever he's trying to protect could end up dead too.

My mind raced, going through the countless possibilities if I swing this door open. It was a bad call, a very bad call. I don't know what's on the other side, what the place looks like, how many people there are, their armament, their positions… anything. And I'm still considering it.

FUCK.

A heartbeat before the Raider bastard began shouting 'three', I ripped the door open hard enough, the resounding boom as the steel hatch hit the concrete wall beside it sent dust flying into the air. I brought the laser rifle up and, as my left hand found the foregrip, my eyes soaked in the room. Five Raiders, one standing in a full set of power armor standing on a catwalk over a large pouring bucket, three in thick leather jackets carrying various rifles on the catwalk around him, and one other in plain clothes about three meters in front of me. He was standing over a bound and gagged man who was staring up at the young man, pleading.

That must have been the kid, Slag was probably the asshole in power armor.

"Three-"

My laser rifle lashed out and I put a lance through the leftmost Raider's head. Before he could fall to the ground, another red spear hit the next man at the base of his neck.

Slow down. I'm hurrying. Don't get sloppy.

By the time I sighted on the third unarmored Forged bastard, they began returning fire. The response was inaccurate, but surprisingly quick.

A large caliber round slammed into my left shoulder as I pulled the trigger for a third time. My shields flared to dissipate the projectile's energy, but it moved my aim enough to put the shot just over my target's right shoulder.

Element of surprise gone, I surged into the cavernous room and, after several more rounds hit me, I steadied my aim on the Raider and squeezed the trigger again. This time the lance burned a hole straight through the center of his forehead just before he made it behind a large I-beam. The body tumbled off the catwalk into the pour bucket half full of molten metal.

A common misconception is, when someone falls into an extremely hot molten liquid, they sink anticlimactically, melting into the pool.

That isn't what happens.

An instant after the dead Raider hit the orange glowing material, the water in his cells flash boiled and carried spurts of searing hot metal into the air in a series of small eruptions.

I sent several more lances of red into the armored man as I raced forward. I let my rifle drop on it's sling and grabbed both men pulling them, practically carrying the bound man, off the platform as return fire and molten steel seared through the spot they'd been an instant before.

"Who-", the young man began asking once I dropped both of them safely behind a collection of supports

"Shut up and stay down", I barked.

Without waiting for a response, I rushed up the stairs. More gunfire sounded and rounds pinged off of the surfaces around me. Spawling caught me and my shields flared to life every few rounds, but none of it drained them appreciably.

"Who the fuck do you think you are", 'Slag' screamed as he sent more bullets careening off the metal around me.

An instant later, I reached the top of the catwalk and his outpour of gunfire stopped, and the outpour of creative swearing and insult began.

"Do you know who you're fucking with, prick? We're the goddamn Forged. I will peel the skin from your bones while you're still breathing and slowly pour molten steel down your throat. I'm-"

The tirade stopped as I sent a half dozen laser bolts into the man's helmet. He struggled to exchange magazines in the bulky armor. Looking at the dimples in his helmet, this rifle wasn't going to get through any time soon, and the HK-33 wouldn't do much better. That armor provides a lot of protection… but there are some things even the best armor can't do.

I continued sprinting forward across the catwalk, and an instant later I was face to face with the Raider gang leader. He was so slow to react, and that armor was so cumbersome, I didn't wait for him to take a swing. I grabbed his chestpiece's collar and his left forearm and pulled him toward me.

"Wha-" I slipped my right leg behind his, and twisted, throwing the man over my hip and the railing behind me. He plummeted into the pouring bucket with a wordless scream.

The bastard struggled for an instant before the interior of the armor grew so hot, his skin caught fire and his body started boiling, just like his subordinate. I didn't bother watching past that. He was dead, and I still have the fallout of this stupid decision to deal with.

"Wh- who- who are you?" the young man I'd saved- Jake stuttered once I'd stalked back down the catwalk stairs. He was trembling so bad I thought he may be having a seizure. I stopped in front of him and the bound man. They both stared up at me, eyes wide with terror. Hard to blame them; a few seconds ago they were both about to die, now…

Who am I? I'm the dumbass who just risked his life to save some stranger for no reason other than 'he might not be a shitbag like the rest of these people'.

What am I doing?

… If I'm going to do things differently, I need to stop complaining about doing it, and start figuring out how to do it better.

"Not your concern. I'll be back in a few minutes. Try anything"' I nodded at the still sizzling pour bucket, "you join the other two in that melted steel."

"I won't, I- don't want to end up like that."

The kid's legs were trembling so hard, I doubt he could have taken a step without falling on his face. I nodded and began toward the exit. That wasn't quiet, and even with the deafening machinery below pounding away, gunshots in an enclosed space like this are hard to miss. I needed to do this quickly.

"If anyone besides me comes in, shoot them."

As soon as I exited the room, back into the cramped landing overlooking the factory's rusty cluttered interior, boots ringing on metal drew my attention to the catwalk. Normally, I'd be downright eager for a stand up fight. Now… these assholes didn't excite me. They're a threat to me, to my impromptu charges, and to Sanctuary; that means I'm neutralizing them. Beyond that- I had a feeling this fight wasn't going to be the stress relief I'm looking for.

A few seconds before the pounding footsteps reached the catwalk, I took a deep breath and sighted on the far end of the walkway. The instant my next target rounded the corner, a pissed off looking woman with heavy burn scarring across her face, I pulled the trigger.

X

The fight was as uninspiring as I'd expected. It wasn't the lackluster tactics, intelligence, or equipment the Forge displayed. It wasn't the small force, the lack of planning necessary, or even how short the fight was. I wasn't into it. As I stalked through the cluttered factory, I was eliminating targets, nothing more. They needed to die, I knew that much, but- fights have always been something I can engage with. They're what I know, they're what I do.

What's going on?

That question was careening through my mind as the last Raider fell and, after another check through the facility, I trudged back to the top of the building.

I pounded on the door and shouted, "coming in!" over the clattering machinery. After a moment's pause, I slowly pulled the door open-

And both men were positioned behind catwalk supports on opposite sides of the door, weapons trained on anyone who might enter. That… was a surprise. The man who had been bound and gagged now had one of the dead mens' thick leather jackets and combat boots on. At least the kid had been smart enough to do that.

My gaze switched between the two men as I hesitated in the doorway, playing the fight back again in my head. I couldn't get rid of the feeling something wasn't right here. Not with these two, not with the Forged. With me.

What the hell am I doing? I go around wiping out bands of Raiders when I'm bored now?

Sure, the bastards deserved to die and now they were gone, Sanctuary was that much safer, but is that really my reason for doing this? I didn't do it to save anyone, that's for damn sure. No. No, I'd done it because I didn't know what else to do.

I do know what else to do, what I should be doing.

Suddenly, that factory was the last place I wanted to be. I should be back at the Railroad's headquarters. Even if I can't expedite the construction, I should be there for Nate, Cassandra, and Thomas. They may not need the added security, but they'd probably feel better with it. Or maybe I'd feel better knowing I was there to protect them. Besides, the fastest way to get Julian back, to get Nate to Shaun, and to eventually secure Sanctuary is to get to the Institute, whatever form that comes in.

"Way out's clear. Let's move."

"Wh- th- you're saying- they're all dead?" Jake sputtered, mouth agape in disbelief.

"Yes. Move."

The two of them exchanged a hesitant glance, but they extricated themselves from their cover. I wasn't in the mood to analyze how believable that was. I just wanted to leave.

As we stalked through the building, they stopped and gawked at the dozen bodies so often, it almost took us as long to get out of the damn place as it had for me to clear it out. Sometimes I have to remind myself these undisciplined, drug addicted, inept excuses for fighters are threatening to these people. It was the same when I'd first gotten to Sanctuary but now, with their fortification and, hopefully, drilling, a group like this shouldn't have much success against them.

It's still a risk I wasn't willing to take.

"Hey", the wannabe Raider asked quietly once we left the building, "can you tell us who you are? Did my dad send you?"

"No. I'm passing through."

"Passing… through…?" the other muttered quietly.

Jake started. "You- just happened to come across the Forged and decided to kill them?"

More or less. There was more to the story than that, I came up here to wipe them out, but it wasn't something I'd planned ahead of time.

I glanced back at him. "Why do you care?"

"I don't know I- why did you save us then?"

That was a good question. Because the goddamn conscience I've suddenly decided to grow made me? I don't know.

"You didn't kill him", I replied with a shrug, motioning at the silent former captive.

"So if I had, you would have killed me too?"

Is that the reason I spared him? I guess. I can't think of anything else. If he had been willing to execute an unarmed, bound civilian for the sake of joining the Forged, he wouldn't have been any better than them.

So I'm passing judgement on other people on the morality of who they kill?

No, it isn't my place to judge people. He would have been another member of their group, nothing more. I don't have any right to call anyone else out, I'm sure I've killed innocent people in the past. Doesn't matter if it was on orders from ONI.

"Maybe."

His face fell. "Oh…"

You didn't so what's the problem?

What am I supposed to do now? Neither of them have provisions, leaving them here in the middle of the night probably wasn't the right thing to do.

Curie and now these two? Am I making a habit of collecting strays?

No, but it would have been a waste of time and effort if they die because they aren't equipped.

They could take supplies from the factory.

Or I could just take them somewhere.

Didn't I want to go back to the Railroad?

Because this is a major delay.

"Do you have somewhere to go?"

"Uh, yeah, my family's farm." Jake pointed south along the river. "It's a ways that way."

Specific…

"How far?"

He hesitated. "Are you going to take us there?" Jake glanced at the other man. "Unless… you have somewhere else to go."

The other man shook his head quietly. "The Forged burned my home down. I don't have anywhere."

His voice was so quiet, I wasn't sure if Jake heard him at first. At this point I didn't need any more justification for what I did, but that served well enough. After a moment's pause, Jake shook his head. "I'm sorry. That's- I thought they were going to do the same to my home. That's why I joined. Or tried to." He looked up at me. "So, thanks for- getting rid of them."

Thanks? It wasn't di-

It was for him.

… Right.

I nodded.

The kid gave me a nervous smile. "Are you going to take us to my family's farm?"

"How far is it?"

"Not far, a half hour?"

It was in the direction I needed to go anyway...

"Yes."

Relief washed most of the fear from his face, but the stiff jaw said he was still worried.

Jake looked at the other man. "Nick… do you want to come?"

He shrugged absently. "I guess." I couldn't tell if it was shellshock or something worse. He'd said they burned his home down. The man had a weathered face with long, greasy hair. He was clearly old enough to live on his own, but had he? Did the Forged kill whoever he lived with?

"I- okay", Jake turned back to me. "Let's go. I'm not sure how I'm going to face my folks, but there's nothing out here for me."

And now I'm volunteering myself to escort my new strays after wiping out an entire Raider gang. I must be a masochist. At least they won't slow me down too much.

20 minutes into the trek, I decided it was probably a good thing I agreed to escort them. In the two plus kilometers we'd walked, two packs of dogs, a small group of feral ghouls, and a few of those giant insects attacked us. That alone probably wouldn't have been too much for them, but if they'd started popping off with firearms, it would have drawn the attention of everything in the area. That could have gotten messy. NVS made it simple to spot any potential threats. My hands and knife worked well enough.

By then I could see dim light streaming from what looked like a shack a klick out. A few minutes later, Jake's pace slowed.

"I don't know if I can do this", he said, voice trembling. "How am I supposed to face them after what I've done?"

How do you face your family? A spark of irritation fluttered through my mind. "By taking responsibility for your fuck up. You still have them."

His footsteps came to a sudden halt behind me. I turned to see him staring at me, a cross between anger and uncertainty on his face. The other man, Nick, drifted to a stop next to him, watching the kid.

"What do you know?" he asked, question clipped.

I guess he has a backbone after all. That was nice to see, but I wasn't about to spill my guts to some random kid just because I saved him. He's whining about not being able to face his family after trying to join the Forged? That sounds like his fault and his problem. He still has one he can go back to.

"More than you need to know. If you did it to keep them safe, tell them that. Otherwise, you screwed up and you need to deal with it. Keep moving."

Maybe I was being more curt than I needed to be, but I wanted to get back to the Railroad, and if I'm being honest, those words felt like they were more for me than him.

I turned and began walking again. It wasn't just out of impatience, I didn't have much room to talk. It might have been because his family was still alive, but he didn't make the same choice I had.

After a moment he followed and a few minutes later we were at the edge of a large fenced off area around the cultivated land. It wasn't a bad setup either with several firing positions dug into the farm, a shack that looked like it may have some reinforcement, and a wire mesh fence that would have been very difficult to climb. The surrounding area was open and barren. The one oddity was they had no one on watch. Is it normal for no one to attack at night around here? Those Raiders had attacked Sanctuary just after dusk.

Just as that thought crossed my mind, movement from behind the small structure caught my attention. My rifle was up and sights were trained on… an older man, his own bolt action rifle aimed at me.

"Don't know why you came here, but you won't find nothing but trouble", he said in a firm, gravelly voice.

If it weren't for the rifle, I probably would have found his confidence in the face of a complete unknown amusing.

"Dad…"

I glanced behind me and Jake stepped into the dim light at the edge of the fenced off area.

"He- he brought me back."

"What the-" the older man's eyes went wide with surprise before his face settled into an enraged glare. His aim turned from me to his son. "Boy, I told you if you ever showed your face around here again I'd-"

"Papa", the kid shouted, but it was almost pleading, "I'm sorry I didn't think- I wanted to keep you guys safe, I wanted to help provide for the farm."

"By what?! Joining the damned Forged."

"Papa, please. I- I know I screwed up. Big time. It wasn't- you were right."

"You think?" His angry stare switched to me. "And how did he trick you into cleaning up after him?"

"Abraham", a tired, but determined voice came from the shack, "what's going on?" A woman dressed in a long tattered shirt and worn jeans emerged from the door, still half asleep. "Is that- Is that my boy come home?"

"What?" another voice from inside, "Jake's back? Oh thank god."

The woman, probably his mother, rushed from the deck toward the older man.

"Stay back Abigail."

Alarm had joined the anger in Abraham's voice, and his eyes hadn't left me. Abigail seemed to finally notice the massive, armored man standing beside her son. The massive armored man aiming a laser rifle at them.

"Oh…"

"Don't worry", Jake said hurriedly, "he saved us. He, uh, he killed the Forged."

A third person emerged from the shack, considering his resemblance to Jake, he must have been a brother.

"He… what?", the older, weathered looking man asked, voice tinged with disbelief. It sounded a lot like his son's.

"Slag was trying to force me to kill Nick." Jake motioned to the other man standing behind me. "He burst in and killed 'em. Then he agreed to bring us back here."

The older man's eyes narrowed. "Why'd you save him?"

The question seemed odd, wouldn't he appreciate me saving his kid?

"He didn't pull the trigger."

"Pa… I just thought, if I joined, I could keep them from raiding the farm." He looked at the ground between his feet. "I didn't- I don't want to hurt anyone."

Abraham's anger returned, as if he was just reminded his kid tried to join the Forged. "I don't care what you thought, I told you-"

"Abraham Francis Finch that is enough", Abigail barked in a shout that would have brought a tear to my DI, Katrina's eye."

"Mama it's fin-"

"Shut up Jake. If I hear anything out of either of you, you'll be peeling potatoes for the next year."

That seemed to take the wind out of both of their sails. The older man slowly lowered his rifle, and Jake slumped. They both seemed… relieved. I allowed my rifle to fall as well while she continued.

"I have watched the two of you go at it for years and tried to let you sort it out for yourselves. Abraham, your son is a grown man and if you expect him to act like one you best stop treating him like a child." She turned her glare on Jake, but it softened a fraction. "Jake, your father and I have been out there and we know it can be dangerous. We just want you to be prepared." She exhaled. "There, it's over, and if I hear another word about if from either of you so help me…"

I like her. I smiled. In my experience, long standing animosity won't be solved by a stern talking to, but she certainly made it seem like that's what she expected.

"As for you", the family Matriarch turned to me. I cocked my head at her. "Thank you for bringing my boy back. We can't pay you much but we'll give you what we can."

Money? What am I going to do with money? "I don't need money."

She hesitated. "Then- I can't let you do what you did for nothing."

I hadn't gone in there with the intention of saving anyone. I'd gone in there to butcher some Raiders, bringing these two out was a happy coincidence.

A happy coincidence?

… Yeah, I guess it was.

I shook my head. "Don't worry about it ma'am. Just take him in." I motioned to the man still cowering behind me. Then a thought crossed my mind. "There's a settlement to the east, Sanctuary. They're trying to build a new community there. It may be safer than staying out here by yourself."

"We've heard about it", Abraham replied. "This farm is our home."

"But", Abigail cut in, "we know it's getting worse out here. If they're setting up a new settlement, we can handle the farming if we end up going there."

"They have someone from nearby, but he's going to die soon."

The two of them exchanged a glance. "Ain't many other farmers around here", Abigail said, "who is it?"

"Younger man, Charlie."

Abraham's eyes shot wide. "You said he's sick? Are Grant and Miranda there?"

Those must have been his parents.

I shook my head. "They died the first night. The settlers there think it was the Forged."

"Bastards", Abigail whispered, enough venom in her voice to kill. "The Terry's were good people. I guess we owe you even more for killing those cowards." Her face softened again. "And for bringing my boy back to me. Can we at least give you some food? I can't tell you how much all of this means to us."

Food wasn't an issue.

But… somehow it felt wrong to turn them down when they're so determined to repay me. It felt like I'd be insulting them.

"Yes."

15 minutes later, I was walking out of the farm with an extra satchel full of various fruits and vegetables I didn't recognize. They tried to get me to stay the night, but I have things I need to get back to.

Despite everything, as I left the reunited family I felt… lighter, like I wasn't wearing my armor anymore. They were back together and, for what it's worth, they all seemed relieved. It wasn't a difficult operation; the Forged were as inept as the Raiders that attacked Sanctuary, but as with them, maybe how hard it was for me to do didn't equate to how important it was to the people I did it for.

Maybe I should do it more then. It feels good.

… Maybe.

X

Walking through the night, I stopped to eat and drink near the edge of the city before diving back into the twisting route Deacon had established for leaving the city. Memorizing it had been a challenge, but after getting lost a few times on the way out, I was fairly confident I remembered the meandering path through subways and occasional surface street.

By the time I returned to the Railroad's headquarters, the sun was rising over the eastern horizon. Or at least that's what the clock in my HUD told me. It's hard to tell from underground.

I'd been gone three and a half days. It felt longer.

The contraption didn't look much further along than when I'd left, but that didn't concern me. I probably wouldn't be able to help much anyways.

I found Nate, Cassandra, and Thomas in a side room the Railroad had fashioned into quarters, with a cot for each and a small, fold out table. They were still sound asleep when I walked it. I quietly deposited my gear and the extra satchel of food in a corner before sitting, propped against the wall closest to the entrance.

It was my turn to be relieved. They were okay.

Why am I relieved? I knew they'd be okay, that the Railroad wouldn't do anything to them. Or at least I had strong reason to believe. Even so, I felt better now I was here, now I could protect them. The fact I couldn't bring Julian back, or even come up with a plan to do so was bitter, but I'm here now. And… I helped the Finches. And whoever else the Forged might have attacked. I guess that means the impromptu journey was worth it for them. I could live with that.

Half an hour later, Nate stirred and as he sat up in his cot, rubbing sleep his eyes, he stifled a surprised shout. The sound he made instead was more of a quiet, desperate wheeze. It was amusing.

"What the hell?" Nate asked in a harsh whisper. He looked genuinely irritated. That amused me even more. "Waking up to see you sitting there when I'm not expecting it doesn't do my life expectancy any favors. How the hell did you get in here so quietly in that tin can anyways?"

I shrugged.

Nate continued glaring at me for a moment before exhaling. He tiredly roused himself and began toward the exit. The smaller man paused just inside the threshold and cocked an eyebrow at me. I guess that means he wants me to follow.

I climbed to my feet and we left the two still sleeping children.

He led me across the cavern's relatively large main chamber to a small kitchenette tucked against the southern wall that would make any survivalist jealous. Nate grabbed a mug and poured himself a cup of… what I assume is coffee. I've never had any, but I've seen other soldiers drink it and I don't remember it being that chunky.

"It's been way too long since I've been able to have coffee", Nate said after taking a large gulp. He grimaced. "This is a little worse than I remember, but it has caffeine." He looked at me. "Find anything useful?"

The question wasn't accusatory, if anything, he was fishing. It makes sense: he wants to know how I intend to get Julian back too.

"No way in quietly. They're running tight security."

"You scare them that much?" The ex-soldier offered a half amused, half worried smile. "Guess you kicking their asses at Diamond city made an impression."

I wasn't so sure. They don't know what I can do, so they're going to be more cautious, but that seemed like overkill, even for me. "Possible, but I'm going to need support. I go in alone, I either end up dead, or take too long to get to Julian."

"Right…" He took another long, slow drink from his mug before casting a sideways glance at me. "I saw you picked up a new rifle and extra bag." I nodded. "Where'd you get those?"

This time I cocked my head at him. Am I supposed to tell you everything I do?

"Why?"

"Because it means you either went to Sanctuary, something I know you wouldn't do unless absolutely necessary, or took them from someone."

I scoffed. "You don't trust my discretion."

Anger flashed across the ex-soldier's face. "That's the reason-"

My own irritation flared. Go ahead. Say it. My hands were balled tight, but if he did… there wasn't much room to argue. I haven't been handling things well; my approach has been to treat everything like I would have if I still had the resources and support of the UNSC. I don't.

"We have a lot of enemies right now. We don't need more."

"Don't you think I know that", I hissed. I wasn't angry at the smaller man though. I unclenched my fists. "It was Raiders, a group called the Forged. They were a threat to Sanctuary, so I took the opportunity to remove them. The bag is food from a nearby farm. I brought their son back with me."

Nate, for once, looked at a loss for words. His jaw worked up and down for a moment before he finally decided to hide his surprise and indecision by taking a too-large gulp of coffee.

"Dammit", he said after he struggled it down, "hot." The smaller man cleared his throat. "You… saved their son?"

"You could say that."

"Oh." He squinted at me. "And what about the Raiders?"

"Dead."

"So we don't have to worry about them coming after you?"

I cocked an eyebrow behind my visor? He must not like them either, usually his concern isn't that they weren't all dead, it's that they were.

"No."

The ex-soldier set his mug on the makeshift counter and finally met my gaze again. "And this kid you saved- no, nevermind." He stared at me wordlessly, something clearly on his mind. Normally, him asking questions annoys me, but I may have found something that aggravates me more: when he doesn't ask them.

"What?"

"I just… don't really know how to ask what I'm thinking. Well, I've been thinking it for a while but-"

"Just ask."

He pursed his lips. It was odd, he hasn't been nervous around me in a while. Whatever he's thinking must be-

"What does killing someone mean to you?"

What does- what? "What do you mean?"

"Killing someone. I", he trailed off and it took the smaller man a moment to gather his thoughts. "I said Kellogg was just another body on the pile for you, that it didn't mean anything if you killed him. I'm still not sure that's wrong, but it seems like you care about people more than you let on."

What does killing someone mean to me? If I killed someone, it was usually to accomplish an objective. If someone is unfortunate enough to find themselves on the wrong side of my gun, they're an obstacle. Or at least that's what I told myself for a very long time. Now? And everyone else…? Well I don't really know anymore.

"You were right. He was."

Nate nodded. "I meant it when I said I don't think you enjoy killing though."

"That's also correct."

"So… what then? It has to mean something."

I shrugged. "It always meant completing the objective."

"And now?"

"I'm still figuring that out."

He shuddered, and I think I understand why: he's watched me kill plenty of people, probably more than any other single person he knows. For someone to kill that many and not know what it's for… I guess that might be something that's beginning to concern me too.

"What do we mean to you?"

What is that supposed to mean? What is he fishing for? "'We'?"

"Cassandra, Thomas, Julian, the people in Sanctuary", he smiled awkwardly, "me."

Oh. That's a question I've had plenty of time to think about. "You're people I want to protect." I wasn't going to tell him I considered at least him and the kids friends. That didn't need to go to his head. Unfortunately, the widening smile on his face said he understood the implication.

"The mass murderer with a heart of gold, huh? I feel like I've seen that on TV at some point." The smile turned a bit sickly. "A while ago."

Mass murderer? "Whatever you say."

The smaller man let out a deep yawn as he stretched. "You didn't deny it. I'll take that as another win for me."

A win for what?

I didn't respond, but he didn't seem disappointed. It wasn't long after when Cassandra and Thomas joined us. Once they'd asked the expected questions about Julian and the Brotherhood, the three of them ate while I disassembled my new rifle to inspect and clean it. They seemed… relaxed. More so than at any point since I'd met them, and that included Nate. Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing we'd be here, building this… teleporter for the next week. I'm sure with how things are going, they'll appreciate the break.

A/N: Yes there was some action in this chapter, but I thought our characters deserved a little break after the marathon that has been the last few chapters. Damon is opening up more and more as we go, and his friendship with Nate is starting to grow. I think it's safe to say Damon finding the people he cares about more important than anything else at this point is a change from his outlooks from before, and I hope I'm doing his journey, both physically and emotionally, justice. I hope you all enjoyed, and see you next time!

Next Chapter: 12/3, Shaun