Chapter Twelve:
Rattle and Run

Disclaimer: I don't own anything of the Fallout franchise. That is all © to Bethesda. I just (barely) own the slightly fleshed out humdrum backstory and writing contents of this story. Any vague mentioning to any shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this story are all © to their respective owners, I do not own them either.

Note: This took a while to piece together and edit but it was worth it. I hope y'all enjoy!

Alliance: None

Companion: Dogmeat

Try me and you'll see just how far I will go
To the edge, watch your step, don't you let
Curiosity get you in trouble
Here's your warning, just thought you should know that...

If you push me to my limit
There's no telling what I might do
Yeah, you gonna regret it
Yeah, you…

You don't wanna see my bad side
But you don't know how to play nice
You can run, but you can't hide, yeah
You don't wanna see my–
You don't wanna see my bad side
I'ma tell you one last time
You can run, but you can't hide, yeah
You don't wanna see my bad side
-"Bad Side" by Hidden Citizens

Quill was very certain that Quinn had been taken, just as they had planned, but it still hurt to know he was going along with her insane plan. One hour, she had told him loudly, publicly.

"I'll be gone just one hour! Hold down the fort until I get back!"

That 'one hour' turned into several. The damning silence that followed had been his first clue it was already in motion. It wasn't like her trip into Concord. He knew what to expect this time around. He was ready. The tension that twisted into crooked shapes within his chest and so sharply, so violently, was another good enough indicator. That feeling had always been a damn good gage when something was wrong with one or the other, and it had been like that all their lives.

When Quill had broken his arm when they'd been children from playing with a friend, she had dropped like a struck fly elsewhere, as though she had suffered a broken bone herself. She hadn't even been present when it had happened, and the doctors had found nothing wrong with her.

When Quinn had ran interference with a juvenile grizzly bear and earned a slash to the face from its heavy paw while trying to save him, he too had felt the agony of her injuries as if they were his own. He was certain that incident alone had shaved off a couple of years off both their dads' lives.

Doctors over the years had tried explaining away their shared pain as nothing more than a psychosomatic symptom. It would have made sense, if they had always been present to one another's injuries, every single one of them. The continued pattern of dismissal was something that hurt them both the most, whether they were together or apart. Quill doubted any doctor here in the Commonwealth would be able to figure it out either. No one has ever been able to understand the deep connection he had with his twin. The pains, the joy, the agony, and euphoria that they felt when so far apart was still shared, somehow, over so much distance.

When he felt that sharp, stabbing pain within his head so suddenly and out of the blue, he knew something had happened to Quinn. He groaned and doubled over in his seat; his afternoon meal forgotten about as he tried to ride the aching wave that washed over him. It took several minutes for the bright stars and spots that danced across his vision to fade. Quill ground his teeth together as he did so, just trying to ride it out as best he could.

Dogmeat's whining briefly tugged him free of his inner conflicts, ears pressed tightly to his head, brown eyes wide and pleading, seeking comfort and attention.

Quill managed to just barely snap out of it and slowly, all symptoms began to ebb away, as if they had never existed. He offered the German Shepherd a grateful smile. He patted Dogmeat on the head, which earned him a few thumps of the tail.

"I'm okay, boy. Promise," Quill said hoarsely, hoping he sounded positive.

The sun wasn't long in disappearing beneath the western horizon. The wintry chill in the air doubled down in the cool and dark hours, encompassing the settlement with little mercy. Quill retreated into the community kitchen, knowing his window to enact the second part of the plan was small and fleeting.

No one was eating, not yet. There were people milling about, socializing with one another. The food was still being cooked and he could hardly contain himself from drooling at the smell of fresh venison cooking. It was a familiar, comforting scent and for a brief moment he felt like he was back in the commune.

The weight of his pouch containing the ground-up herbal sedative reminded him of his mission. Honest Dan was sulking in the corner, a cigarette pinched between his lips as he glowered at the arriving patrons. He was the perfect void of activity that people wanted to eschew. Close enough to where Quill needed to be, but not too close to be considered an associate. As vigilant as the residents of Covenant were, they still had blind spots. When Quill caught his eye, the man only gave a singular curt nod, as if in approval for what Quill was about to do.

Dogmeat remained glued to his side and Quill found comfort in his presence. Quinn was always ascribing her daring and devil-may-care antics to 'twenty seconds of insane courage'. Quill dug deep for that and when he did, he was more than pleased that it was when hardly anyone was present for it.

He managed to slip over to the container of potable fresh water and dumped the ground up herbal sedatives into it. No one seemed to notice, and he took that as a good sign.

Quill retreated and waited.

He waited for every member to stop by the spigot that spewed clean drinking water and gulped it down greedily. He waited as more people tuckered themselves out into a nap with nary a care midmeal. He waited until the entire room—residents and travelers alike—fell asleep until only him, Dogmeat, and Honest Dan were left standing.

It was unnaturally quiet once that occurred. Shakily, Quill grabbed another pouch from his pocket and a bottle of whiskey from his pack and slipped the powdered substance inside. Swirling it about, he gave a thumbs up to Honest Dan. "Almost ready."

The chill of the night air slammed into Quill when he stepped outside, seizing his lungs and pierced them like needles. Winter wasn't just coming, it was already there, that was for sure.

He envied Dogmeat, who seemed blissfully unaffected by the cold, and it was all thanks to his thick coat of fur.

"We still have to drug the gate guard. Unless you'd prefer to just shoot him." Honest Dan rumbled. Quill lifted his spare canteen and made it a point to make the liquids inside apparent.

"I think I'd rather go the non-violent route today, if it's all the same."

Quinn had devised this plan especially for Quill. Perhaps, she had even designed it to better suit herself as well. Sneaking around and subterfuge rather than brute-forcing things. It would be different than the raiders and the Deathclaw.

He would also guess that was why she preferred dismantling and disarming bombs rather than setting them off, given her work in the military. Repurposing instead of destroying had been a big part of their lives growing up. This was no different.

Quill left through the front gates first, while Honest Dan waited inside. Time crawled by at a snail's pace, but Quill returned, pulling the gates open and admitting Honest Dan back out into the Commonwealth. Dogmeat was hot on his heels and wagged his tail happily, expectant of orders. He came to Quill, bright-eyed but focused.

The past few weeks during their travels, Quinn had been whipping Dogmeat into shape. He remembered how Quinn's first dog Tigress had been, and he once had the pleasure of meeting Quinn's other dog, Nero. Both had been masterfully disciplined, and he didn't doubt his sister had trained them both in the highest order. She had always had a deeper bond with animals, with only Quill and their dads, and a few others, as exceptions.

Quill didn't think of himself as masterful in the barest sense when it came to animals. He could hardly get an obedient dog to sit, never mind trying to get one to sniff out an improvised explosive device or god forbid, sniff out a corpse for a missing person's case.

But Quinn wasn't here now. He was here. He patted Dogmeat on the head, and glanced at Honest Dan.

"You got any idea where they might have taken her? The mayor's notes mentioned something about the lake, but well…" Honest Dan gave a helpless shrug, his scowl breaking momentarily. There was no way these people would have been able to drag Queenie down this way without kicking and screaming—so he had to assume she was unconscious.

Quill nodded, mute at first, and motioned across the rippling surface of the lake opposite from them. "There should be a culvert on the other side of the water, imbedded in the hill. It didn't take long for me to figure out."

"I'll be damned. They got a whole lab in there or something? That's what those notes on the mayor's terminal hinted at."

"I'm guessing it's more like…a series of tunnels from before the bombs dropped. They've just repurposed everything to suit their needs," Quill said, hoping it was enough to satisfy the caravan guard. Thankfully, it did.

Honest Dan grunted, his hand falling to the pistol strapped at his side. "Let's get going."

The pair picked their way along the perimeter of the lake. The temperature steadily dropped, and Quill shuddered. He's forgotten how sharp winter's edges could be.

I've gotten soft, he told himself with a grimace. Winter was brutal up in Montana, dropping well into the subzero range that would have made Jack London's blood curdle. Out in southern California…not so much.

A gossamer layer of ice sheeted over the water's surface by the time they'd made it to the culvert. The mud encrusting the shore crunched and squished as he and Honest Dan rounded to the pipe's mouth and stepped inside. There was less water inside the culvert's throat and for that, Quill was grateful for that.

What he wasn't grateful for, in retrospect, was a gun to the face. The air was less frigid and opened up to the broken concrete walkways, metal railings, and construction lights to illuminate things. Sitting atop a higher still elevated level, was a turret gun chugging along. Perfectly harmless now, but if guns started going off, it'd turn into a bloodbath.

"That's far enough, stranger! If I were you, I'd turn around and leave while I still had the chance."

The speaker was nearly level in height to Quill, even from the elevated metal catwalk, he could tell. Broad shouldered and padded down with what looked like an umpire's game gear as improvised armour. It looked like it had seen better days, and frankly, that was putting it lightly.

Quill threw his hands up in surrender, and at the same time, tried to shrink in on himself, to make himself look as non-threatening and as small as possible. He smiled sheepishly at the man who had a gun pointed directly at him and gave a small wave. Quill could just barely make out at least three figures that stood on the fringes of the bright lighting that nearly blinded him.

"H-hey guys. I-I'm new. Ted wasn't feeling too great tonight, and I was told I had to bring some info to…what's-her-name? Doc Chambers? Sorry, I'm still getting used to everyone, and I haven't met her yet. M-Mayor Ogden sent me."

The gun didn't waver, and neither did the heavy-browed squinting from the man in front of him.

"I wasn't aware of any runs for tonight. We were expecting something in about a week, sure. Especially after we nabbed the newest addition earlier today."

"Y-yeah, it was pretty last minute. I've got some news to deliver to Doc Chambers. Straight from the mayor and for her ears only, so…"

Quill gave the man a nervous smile, still trying to coax his body to appear as small and unassuming as he could. The smaller he was, the less of a threat he would look like. It always drove Quinn crazy when he did this, and she has told him countless time that he shouldn't hunch so much.

"You're going to turn into a jumbo shrimp with a humpback if you keep doing that!" She'd always tease him with a mirthful smile.

"And him?"

The gun lowered an iota, and the guard jutted his chin out to Honest Dan behind Quill. Quill felt the panic inside him clawing at his throat, threatening to silence him into a stuttering mess-but somehow, he managed to find his voice.

"H-He's with me. We're actually both pretty new, so they thought to have us come down together to do this. Right, Ho—Harry?"

He shot a look back at Honest Dan, brows perking up insistently, his nervous smile tight and twitching at the corner. Honest Dan, thankfully, seemed to pick up on this and stepped closer to the light. Relief washed through Quill, and he glanced down at Dogmeat sitting beside him, looking alert and focused on the guard.

"Yep, sounds about right, Doug. We're on a bit of a tight schedule though, so can we hurry this along? I got interrupted mid-dinner and I'd like to get back to that delicious venison steak."

The guard frowned, but the gun lowered completely, a flash of disappointment skittering across his face. "Venison? Where'd you even get that? Sounds good."

"I think that girl you nabbed today was the one who hunted it down the other day."

"Damn shame, but hell. I'll have to see if Captain will let some of us go grab some and bring it back before it's all gone. Sounds better'n a bunch of deviled eggs and spam in a can right now, ya know?"

Honest Dan grunted back, and the guard motioned for them to follow him. Quill nearly jumped out of his skin when Honest Dan clapped a hand on his shoulder, giving a squeeze.

"Relax. You're doing great, Doug. We get this over with and we'll be in the homestretch before you know it."

Dogmeat seemed to agree, giving an excited yip as he leaned into Quill's leg. He patted the German Shepherd on the head, nodding. He adjusted the strap of his pack and felt the whiskey bottle shift awkwardly against his back.

"Right. Let's get going, boy. Let's finish this job."

Quinn groaned as sleep began to ebb and, in its place, a dull ache that throbbed in tune with her heartbeat made its presence known at the back of her head. It took her a few minutes to collectively gather her thoughts through the pain, as snippets of what had happened began to piece themselves together again. The stench of wet earth, rust, mouldering meat, and something else she couldn't identify assaulted her.

Slowly, she managed to roll to her side and upright, gingerly probing at her skull with the tips of her fingers. She winced when she found the bump that was causing her pain; right above her bad ear.

"Damn. Couldn't think of anything else to knock me out with beside a fucking baseball bat? Low blow, dudes…" At least they didn't strap my nipples to a golfcart battery. That'd be awkward. And a weird kind of kinky that I'm not into. Fool me once, it ain't happening again.

She was atop a dirtied and soiled mattress that made barracks mattresses seem almost cleanly in comparison.

Almost.

She rocked herself to her feet, pleasantly surprised that her prosthetic hadn't been taken. She was in a small room that could barely contain the mattress and a foot or two of walking room. Cracked bricks lined up neatly, while the only way out was through a barred door. Immediately, she recognized what she was in: a cell. Quinn could see a larger room beyond, and lights festooned the corners to disperse with the darkness. It did little to mask the gloomy ambience of the place.

Quinn patted herself down, finding most of her gear had been stripped from her. The rest was back at Covenant.

A moment of triumph welled inside her when she found the hidden pouch still in her boot. She pulled it clear and carefully opened it, not wanting to disturb the contents. Relief washed over her when she saw the powdered substance within had not been lost. The grainy texture sifted inside as she just as warily cinched the pouch shut and ducked it inside the sleeve of her coat. It wouldn't do to inhale her own trick.

Something shiny caught her eye, something that dangled above the wall toward the back of the cell. Quinn tilted her head and turned her good ear in its direction. A low, deep hum resonated from the device. Some kind of explosive device, perhaps? It didn't look like any she's ever recovered.

Quinn pulled herself to her feet and carefully shuffled toward the cell door. When she was sure the device wouldn't trigger, she turned her back to it. She ignored the throbbing ache in her skull and wrapped her fingers around the cell bars until she was white knuckling them. She studied the room beyond, seeing red load-bearing metal pillars; a metal staircase that led up to the metal walkway outside her cell. Down below, the lights were focused on a woman in a white lab coat beside a computer desk, fingers clacking away on a terminal's keyboard. Goggles were pushed up her brow, her eyes squinting, and lips pursed in concentration at the screen.

Quinn leaned her head closer, trying to see past one of the pillars to her left. Her lips twitched into a faint smile. An exit. She could see a potential exit.

She shifted her gaze to the right and froze when she saw another cell at the end of the metal walkway. A woman in raggedy clothing and short-cropped hair was staring wide-eyed at her, similarly gripping her own cell bars in a tight hold. Terror was painted on her face, an almost pleading quality on the fringes of it. Even from her, Quinn could see the splotchy quality of the woman's face, the redness in her eyes. She'd most certainly been crying and recently at that.

"Ah. You're awake. Good. That means we can begin shortly. We'll do so when Doctor Blythe returns from his meal break."

Quinn snapped her attention back to the speaker and narrowed her eyes.

"P-please…please stop this. You have to stop! This is wrong!"

The woman in the lab coat ignored the pleas of the other woman in the cell. Instead, her focus was on Quinn.

Quinn canted her head the side, watching as the woman rose up the stairs and briskly walked past the now-sobbing woman trapped behind the other cell. She slid down to her knees, fingers clinging desperately to the bars. Quinn raised a brow as the lab coat arrived in front of her.

She was older than Quinn, that much was apparent. Her greying hair and the deep lines and signs of wrinkles were enough of an indicator. The woman looked Quinn up and down, her intense gaze lingering on Quinn's left leg.

"Show me the extent of your…prosthetic."

Quinn could practically taste the woman's disdain when she said the word 'prosthetic', as if Quinn herself was trying to one-up her. Quinn released her grip on the bars and crossed her arms over her chest. She leaned back and straightened her shoulders and tilted her head to the side.

"And if I refuse? Are you going to blow me up with that device back behind me?" Quinn asked, giving a nod in the strange device's direction.

"Nothing as violent as that, no. It would undermine our work here." The woman replied matter-of-factly, a brow arching upwards. "But it does produce a powerful electrical shock if you do not comply, and I have every intention of using it if you refuse to cooperate."

Quinn turned to face the device and stared at it in scrutiny. While her back was turned, she weaseled the pouch in her sleeve out and discretely poured the powdered substance from inside into the palm of her left hand.

"And if I cooperate?" She inquired over her shoulder, frowning.

"The results will be the same."

"Not much of a bargain for my end of things, is it, doc? Damned if I do, damned if I don't." Quinn said, sighing and shaking her head as she pivoted on her heel and stepped closer toward the cell bars.

"You have nothing to bargain with."

"What if I did?"

The woman narrowed her eyes, studying Quinn with a look that reminded her of her science professors back in college. Some of them didn't look at their students like they were human. They looked at them like they were something they'd very much like to dissect and pick apart.

That was the look of contempt she was picking up on from the woman in the lab coat.

"I can assure you that you have nothing worth bargaining for on your person. And I most certainly doubt that you have anything back at Covenant."

Quinn sucked on her teeth before flashing the woman a toothy grin. "Who said it was on my person or back at my bunk?"

Slowly Quinn moved closer still to the bars, pursing her lips into a tight smile.

"What if I told you a simple, yet very truthful thing about me and my little brother?"

There was a flicker of curiousity in the woman's eyes now, but she remained resolute in her stiff posturing. Quinn took that as a sign to continue. She slid her arms out of the bars and leaned on the door until her head leant on the bars and both her hands fisted and dangling; one with the powder and the other slightly looser. The woman didn't seem to notice.

"What if I told you that Vault-Tec froze me and my brother, and a whole neighborhood full of people up north from here, in some kind of…cryogenics experiment? From before the bombs dropped? Just a bunch of meat popsicles, sitting pretty inside a Vault."

No need to mention they're dead. That's not important right now.

"Cryogenics…? But that would require…hmm." The woman's gaze dropped, and she stroked her chin with her long fingers thoughtfully. Quinn could practically see the gears churning away as she tried puzzling out Quinn's words. "Are you saying that you…no. No, that can't be. You are not here because of a hypothetical theory of cryogenics. You are here because—"

Quinn slung the powdered substance into the woman's face, taking advantage of her distraction. At the same time, she yanked her clean hand away from the bars and slid her shirt over her mouth and nose, grinning underneath. The woman coughed and hacked violently, clutching at her throat as the powder dispersed all over her. It coated her face, hair, shoulders, lab coat.

"W-What—what was tha-ha-hat?!" She wheezed and spluttered, staring at Quinn with bulging, red-rimmed and watery eyes. She tried to swat at her clothes, but it only disturbed the powder further. The more she coughed, the more she inhaled. Her movements were already growing sluggish and clumsy. She swayed uneasily on her feet. She tried to grab the railing behind her, but only succeeded in slamming her back into it.

Quinn tilted her head and lowered her shirt, blinking slowly. She watched the other woman with a half-lidded look and lazy grin. Carefully, she tugged the little hidden pouch out of her sleeve, waving it teasingly. She cinched it shut, tying it up completely this time and stuffed it back into her boot.

Quinn took retook her position at the cell door, languidly watching as the woman struggled to breath past the powder.

"This is a sedative mixed with a mild paralytic from herbs I collected. It's what I was foraging for out in the forest when your goons dropped in on me. I don't want you dead, and this stuff is only temporary, it'll last for just a few hours. I also don't want to be tortured and die, either, 'cause…that's permanent. Lastly…you have her captive," Quinn said, motioning toward the other prisoner. She nodded with her chin at the other woman, who had ceased her soft sobbing to stare at the scene unfolding before her.

Quinn caught her eye and waved to her.

"Amelia Stockton, I presume?"

"Y-Yes. I-I'm Amelia. Who…who are you?"

"Your knight in shining armour, my poor kidnapped princess. I just…need to get out of here first."

Amelia sniffled. The woman in the lab coat crumpled to her knees, still clutching at her throat. She glowered at Quinn, teeth bared in a snarl. It looked like she had something to say, but all that came out of her mouth was a low raspy growl before she ultimately collapsed. Amelia gasped, and the seconds ticked by before she finally squeaked out another question.

"A…knight? A-Are you with…the Brotherhood? O-or someone else? Did my father send you?"

"What? No, I'm freelancing…ugh. Forget it, the princess bit is ruined. Now, just hold on and I'll get us out of here."

"How?!"

"Watch and learn."

Quinn dropped down to her knees and thrusted her arm out through the bars, reaching for the woman on the ground. She caught hold of the first thing she could and that ended up being the woman's wrist. She tugged experimentally at first, testing her weight and resistance. The limb was stiff, thanks to the paralytic, but she could still be moved.

Quinn curled her legs up and braced her feet against the cell door and heaved.

The woman's body was slowly dragged closer and closer until Quinn could more easily reach her coat pockets. She rummaged around, awkwardly trying to flip the woman over to reach her other pocket and that's when she heard it—the unmistakable sound of keys clinking against one another. She clawed at the coat until she got to the other pocket and came away triumphant.

Amelia sprang up to her feet, hands flying to cover her mouth, eyes growing wide with shock and hope. "Please, please hurry!"

"Shh! Voice down. We don't want to alert the Empire we're here."

Quinn rose with a feral grin and began working at the lock with the keys. The third one she tried turned agreeably and clicked. The door popped open. She pulled her arm out and slid out of the cell.

She strode toward Amelia's cell, clutching the keys tightly in hand. Amelia bounced on the balls of her feet, eyes darting between Quinn, the woman in the lab coat, and presumably, the exit. The arched doorway was blocked by a door, now that she could see it more proper-like. "I'm coming, I'm coming, hold your horses—hey, actually, quick question. Do y'all still have horses around here?"

Quinn inserted the key into Amelia's cell. It gave another satisfying turn and click, and the door popped open. Amelia scrambled to shove it open and flung herself at Quinn. She was taller than Quinn by nearly half a foot, but she held firm. Awkwardly, Quinn began to pat her on the back.

"There…there. You're uh, you're okay. Right? Not missing anything important?"

Amelia pulled away and sniffled, scrubbing at her cheeks with the heels of her hands. "Oh. Oh, yes. I-I'm good. Thank you! Wait, wait—how are we going to get out of here? There're guards outside, I-I don't think there's another way out."

"That's where my brother comes in! He should be here any minute now." Quinn stated matter-of-factly, her grin broad and cheeky. It dropped the instant she caught sight of a shimmer from the corner of her eye, something just over Amelia's shoulder. It was there for only a few moments, but the wispy and ethereal thing that lingered was long enough. She recognized the patchy, flayed skin, the sneering white grin, the opaque eyes.

Quinn's smile fell.

"How many others were here with you?"

"T-there…was a man here, but I only saw him once. They dragged him out and he never came back."

The shimmers continued to catch Quinn's eye, always at her peripheral. Every time she tried to get a better look, the only sight she caught of them were their features, and only for a split second. The air abruptly felt colder and her breath ghosted past her lips. Amelia shivered, drawing her arms to clutch at herself.

"Why does it do that? Get so cold all of a sudden?"

Quinn forced herself past the lump in her throat and swallowed thickly against it.

"It's winter, Amelia. Or close enough to it. C'mon. I think I saw some kind of chest down in the corner over there. Maybe they got some more proper attire we can rummage up for you."

Quinn led Amelia down the stairs and passed the computer terminal. Its screen was dark save for the blinking green cursor in the corner. Quinn paid it no mind. Knowing her luck, she'd probably break the damn thing. She'd wait for Quill to mess with it.

There was a chest beside a metal shelving unit. Quinn's smile didn't falter when she noticed her gear had been stowed on them. She threw it open and grinned. "Jackpot, baby. Here, take these. Change out of those Raggedy Ann clothes."

She tossed a winter coat and a pair of long pants to Amelia, who caught them with a bewildered look. Quinn returned to rummaging about inside the trunk but found little else of value. Slamming the chest closed, she retrieved her gear. The door opened just as she had belted her quiver into place. Amelia stifled a gasp behind her hand and immediately backed up toward Quinn, hand groping blindly behind her, searching for Quinn's hand.

Quinn prowled forward, patting Amelia on the arm and ducked into a low crouch, an arrow drawn and nocked into her bow. For a moment, nothing happened. No one crossed the threshold.

And then a quiet, plaintive voice called out. "Queenie?"

Quinn quickly stashed her arrow back into the quiver and slung her bow over her shoulder, straightening up.

"Quill? That you?"

Quill came inside the room, hesitant and cautious. He looked around, but paused when he caught sight of her. His face lit up when he did. "There you are!"

"I-is that…?" Amelia's voice wavered as she spoke behind Quinn.

"That's my baby brother, yep! I vouch for him."

Dogmeat came hurtling through the doorway next, claws clicking on the concrete. He bounded toward Quinn and nearly leapt into her arms, tail wagging madly behind him as he licked at her face.

"Easy, easy, boy! Down! Down! No kissing my face, you lick your ass with that tongue!" Quinn laughed, scratching him all over his face, scruff, shoulders.

"Amelia! Is she in here?!"

Amelia stiffened behind Quinn. Quill glanced over his shoulder and nodded. "She's safe. She's alive. Hey, it's okay. We're the cavalry, we're here to get you out."

Quill offered her a reassuring smile.

"That's what, um…Queenie? What she said." She paused, looking to Quinn for approval.

"Only Quill can call me that, sorry, sweetie. You can call me Quinn." She said gently. "That's my brother, and the big lug-head walking in now is Honest Dan. Your dad hired him to find you. We're just freelancing, like I told you before."

True to her word, Honest Dan came striding in, frame shaking with unspent energy. Quill motioned to where Quinn and Amelia were and the relief that washed over him was palpable. Quill rushed over to her and pulled her into an embrace.

"You're fucking crazy, you know that?" He said quietly to his sister. She laughed and he let go of her.

"Christ, you're alive. Old Man Stockton will be relieved." He hurried to Amelia, eyes scanning her over. "They didn't hurt you, did they?"

"Th-they shocked me a few times. Tried getting me to answer all these weird questions to find out I'm a synth. But I'm not! I'm not a synth!"

Honest Dan's face clouded over darkly. "Of course not. And you're getting out of here now." He paused and looked to the twins. "You two did good. You kept your word. That's a good mark in my books."

Honest Dan's lips pulled into a tight smile at his admission. Quinn gave him a little salute and Quill could only nod in return. His hands wouldn't stop shaking until Quinn nudged him gently in the ribs. "Let's get out of here before they all wake up. You knocked them all out, right?"

"Whatever it was you two used, it worked, although that head guard, I had to smack him in the head to get him out cold, too. He's gonna be sore in the morning."

The relief on Quill's face was palpable. "Looks like things worked out on your end too."

"More or less. I knew I could count on you in case it didn't, though." She grinned up at her brother. "Now lets get our shit and get the hell outta Dodge."

Additional Notes: Quinn can, will, and has fought dirty and won't be above hitting below the belt if need be. Pretty sure she'd side with Canada on some...techniques of war that have been outlawed by certain organizations. But hey, if it's the first time, it ain't a war crime! She's a chaotic little gremlin, I love the directions she takes me.