Vault 114
February the 22nd, 2288
15:22

To say Vault 114 was nothing like Vault 111 would be a significant understatement, not the least of which being because it was apparently unfinished.

Between Vadim, the map, and a little more information from a grudging Myrna, they had found at least the place – the Vault – Nick had most likely disappeared in. After going down into a couple of old subway stations, Nora, Cait, and Piper finally found Vault 114. Having snuck past the little bits of security, and past a few raiders scavenging the decrepit station, the three women made their way through some of the old train cars and subway tunnels, having just barely snuck into the Vault through the partially open Vault blast door. A skip in her step, Piper smiled a bit, only a few paces behind Nora and Cait, a little too proud of how she had gotten Myrna to give up the last bit of information they needed. Always uncomfortable with people being too outwardly emotional (or too outwardly emotionless, lest they be a synth), Myrna had caved when Ellie had burst into tears in front of her and Danny. For his part, somewhat wracked by guilt, Danny had coaxed Myrna into telling them about the information she had heard from multiple caravaners about old Vaults in the area of the old city of Boston. In her bag was a folded up map she had (somewhat bribed, somewhat guilted) gotten from Myrna, who had received it from a caravaner that had passed through Vault-Tec's Regional Headquarters, knowing Nick would be excited to see it, the history of Vault-Tec and their Vaults a special interest of his.

Hearing a sudden rush of heavy footsteps, Cait grabbed Piper's wrist with one hand and Nora's with the other. The three of them went as still as possible, barely even breathing until they were sure they were alone again. A few seconds passed in silence, but soon they stepped out from the messy and unfinished corridors and into a shockingly large and mostly finished atrium. Slowing their footsteps upon hearing some voices at the other end of the atrium, Nora, Cait, and Piper all shared a long look before making their way up to the stairs to the second floor of the atrium as silently as possible. Her hands shaking from anticipation and her heart pounding in her chest, Nora reloaded her gun, hoping against hope they were in the right place. After going through several old subway stations only to find nothing, things had felt painfully lost. If this isn't the place, are we ever going to find him? Or will we be too late? We can't – Nora sighed, regaining her composure, and pulling Cait back to make sure she didn't accidentally blow their cover. Waving her and Piper behind a set of boxes piled up high by one corner, Nora glanced over the top of the boxes, crouched as low as possible to keep an eye on the end of the corridor.

Less than three feet away from her and Cait, Piper gasped when she realised the man at the end of the corridor was wearing a large pin on his collar, a pin Nick usually wore. Fury taking over her, the twenty three year old journalist checked to make sure her gun was loaded and ready to fire. For a minute, quick and swift whispers passed between the three women before they began to inch closer together, close enough to listen in to what the man was saying but not close enough to be noticed. Holstering her shotgun, Cait cracked her knuckles and then pulled out her twin switchblades, winking at Nora when she glanced over to her, surprised to see her put away her gun. She's something else…but why does she make me both nervous and excited? I barely even – Nora reached over and pulled Cait back just a little, a brief, shocking sensation startling her. Cait looked to her, worried, and then suddenly hugged her. Poor lass has been through fucking hell, but she still doesn't give up. I don't think even I'd still be around after all the shite she's faced. Nora eventually hugged her back, and closed her eyes for a moment, doing her best to focus on the voices she, Cait, and Piper could barely hear.

"…How you doing in there, Valentine?" The first voice taunted, sounding as though he were also chewing gum. "…Feeling hungry? Want a snack?"

"…Keep talking, meat head," The second voice yelled through the doors. "It'll give Skinny Malone more time to think about how he's going to bump you off, and –"

"…Don't give me that crap, Valentine," The first voice said back. "…You know nothing, you got nothing."

"…Really?" The second voice yelled again. "…I saw him writing your name down in that black book of his. 'Lousy, cheating, card shark,' I think were his exact words. Then he struck the name across three times."

"That's Nick!" Piper excitedly whispered to Nora and Cait, who had let each other go and were steadying for a fight. "I'd recognise his voice anywhere. That's Nick in there, it absolutely is."

"Then let's get him out," Nora said, resolution growing in her voice, body, and mind. "It's time."

Not taking a moment to hesitate, Nora stepped out and towards the man to whom the first voice belonged, her gun drawn. The man whipped around and drew his own gun on her, firing the second he saw her. She dodged out of the way of his frenzied attack, and Piper and Cait followed after her. Piper slid across the floor, out of the way of the bullets, and began shooting at the man as soon as he was in her sights. Cait, for her part, charged at the man, letting out an excited war whoop, knives drawn. The man startled, and, in the time it took for him to notice her, Nora managed to shoot him a couple of times in the chest, Piper got two shots on one of his legs, and Cait jumped him as if she were either feral (which she wasn't) or high (which she was). He cursed at her, but wasn't quick enough to defend himself before Cait slit him twice across the throat with her switchblades. He fell to the ground, and Cait grinned, wiping the blood off her knives with a smirk, while Nora and Piper stared at her in both shock and a mix of awe and concern. Seeing he had managed to shoot her in the arm in the chaos, Nora pulled off her scarf and began to tie it around the wound on Piper's arm, which had pierced through the journalist's long coat. She then helped her up, and, seeing there was a window, Piper approached it and tapped on the glass with her uninjured arm, grinning when her friend, the same man they had been looking for, approached.

"We're here to rescue you!" Piper said, laughing a little. "How do we get you out of there?"

"Well, if there were a lock on my end, I'd let myself out," Nick dryly replied. "He kept a password for the terminal in his pocket. That'll probably let you in, but be quick about it because we got three minutes at best before they realise muscles-for-brains ain't coming back."

"I got it!" Cait cheered, coming over to the window and waving a piece of paper at it. "I'll let you out now, handsome, don't you worry!"

Nora laughed a bit too, smiling with Piper when Cait almost giddily approached the computer terminal. Humming to herself, Cait typed in the password, fussed around with the system, and, after a little bit of swearing, managed to get the system to let her in. She cheered a bit more, and then found the programme to undo the locking mechanism. Hearing the click of the door indicating it had unlocked, Cait slipped the piece of paper with the password on it into her pocket, twisted the knob ever so slightly, and kicked the door open. She stood up against it almost militantly and waved Piper and Nora into the room, dramatically bowing at them both after they went past her. Breathing a sigh of relief, happy to be able to breathe fresh air for the first time in months, Nick walked over to where Piper and Nora were standing. He rolled his eyes when Piper took off her press cap with a flourish and curtsied before setting it back on her head, before, as they always did, bumping fists and elbows. Nora couldn't help but smile, and something about being in front of the man she was desperate to have help her find her husband and son was almost calming. She startled, though, when, after a minute, it occurred to her the man in front of her also had wires visible inside his partially exposed neck.

"What…" Nora hesitated. "I don't mean to be rude but…what…are you?"

"I'm a detective," Nick replied. "Although, if you're wondering about the wires…I'm a synth. A prototype, most likely. Look, I know the skin and the metal parts ain't comforting, but that doesn't matter. Why'd you, Piper…and that oddly excitable lady over there risk a damn thing to find me? At the end of the day, I'm just a private eye."

"My…my son Shaun is missing," Nora said, her hands beginning to shake again against her will. "He and my husband were kidnapped, but I don't know who took them, or where they went."

"Two missing people?" Nick raised an eyebrow but then shook his head. "Well, you came to the right man, if not the right place."

"Glad to know I didn't waste me time on a witch hunt," Cait remarked, joining them and wrapping one arm around Nora's shoulders and the other around Piper's. "Take it you're the real deal, ain't you?"

"I am, but I've also been cooped up in here for more than just a few weeks. Turns out the runaway daughter I came looking for wasn't kidnapped at all. She's Skinny Malone's new flame, and she's got a mean streak…one involving a baseball bat and my head," Nick said wryly, looking at Piper. "Only took a few months for someone to find me, but why am I not surprised you were involved in this, Piper? Speaking of, how'd you manage to find me, anyways?"

"See, the fun answer would be to say Cait had a vision from God about where you were while high," Piper said with a grin. "But the real answer is Vadim and I put our heads together with a little…or a lot…of help and took a few stabs at where you could be before finding you here."

"I'll keep that in mind. Certainly won't be underestimating you any time soon, Piper," Nick said, sighing when he turned to Nora. "I'm glad to help. Sounds like you need it more than most people do in the Commonwealth. A whole family gone missing…it's rare, but every so often it happens."

"I don't even know where to begin…" Nora said quietly, but she managed a smile when she met his eyes. "But, thank you, Valentine. I…I truly appreciate it."

"Just doing my job," Nick glanced to Cait, who was twirling one of her twin switchblades in her hands. "You alright? Hope you don't got a mean streak about you like Malone's new flame."

Cait snickered. "Don't you worry," She reassured him. "I only fight people I don't like, and, if Piper approves, then I ain't going to complain. What kind of lass would I be if I didn't trust the judgement of one of me few friends?"

Piper winked. "Glad to know some of my advice has stuck."

"I am too," Nick said, looking between the two of them and then Nora. "They may be odd, but, as far as Piper goes, I know for sure you've found a good crew. Though I hope you can handle her being in and out of prison. The mayor has got it out for her, these days especially."

"Yeah, no kidding," Piper muttered. "We probably would have been able to find you sooner if he hadn't thrown me back behind the damn bars. Wonder if there will ever be a day when we can stop calling the lock up in Diamond City the 'Piper Suite.' I sure as hell hope so."

"Well, glad to know you're out now," Nick said, fatherly patting her shoulder. He turned to Nora. "As I said, whatever you need to find them, I'll be there with you, but now ain't the time. Let's blow this joint, and then we can talk. Besides, I'm sure it'll be a lot easier for you to gather your thoughts after you can have a nice meal and a drink instead of trying to get everything sorted while staying out of the way of some assholes who just want to shoot at you for target practise."

"Let's go, then," Nora said, barely managing a laugh when the detective winked with a smile. "No point in waiting around for them to come for us."

Sanctuary Hills
February the 23rd, 2288
13:18

"The Abernathy family, and the couple living in the former Oberland Station rail house have decided to join our cause," Preston said with a smile, changing the thumb tacks on the map for the two settlements from blue to white, now three settlements – Sanctuary, Abernathy, and Oberland – allied with the Minutemen. Pride swelled in his chest as he set down his laser musket on his chair in front of the map. "I think we're turning things around, little by little. I'm glad a few former Minutemen decided to rejoin to help out the Abernathy family and the Oberland couple."

"You all have been doing a wonderful job," Codsworth said cheerfully, picking up a few cans of water he had purified earlier. "These are for you," He said, handing one to him, Sturges, and Derek. "I couldn't be more pleased to serve such good people."

"Happy to have you on board, Codsworth," Sturges said, slowly starting on his water. "As Preston would say, you can't have too many friends out here, especially with all the raiders and gunners running around lately."

"It's hard to tell what's more concerning," Derek said, shaking his head. "Raiders have always been a nuisance, you'll always find violently selfish people. But the gunners…they're something of an unknown. Yes, they're mercenaries, and they're well organised, but it's just about impossible to know if they're going to threaten those we're protecting until it's on the verge of happening."

"Something about the gunners does worry me, too," Preston admitted. "They weren't so common around here just five years ago, but they've been growing more and more common every other day, it seems. Wish we knew where they were coming from, but, even if we did, I don't think we could win in a fight against them."

"I heard some gunners are reprogramming some of those pre-War hell robots," Sturges said with a frown. "I know the gunners we faced in Quincy were bad, but they didn't even have these. From what I've heard, those old, pre-War robots called 'assaultrons' are being reprogrammed by gunners to help do their dirty work."

"Oh my, that's not good," Codsworth said worriedly. "Should we shore up our defences here?"

"The Minutemen we've got working with the Abernathy family and at Oberland are helping increase their defencive capabilities," Preston said, pausing to take a sip of water. "It probably isn't a bad idea to increase some of our defences here, although I think the turrets Sturges has made and rigged up recently are good."

"They've done a damn good, reliable job so far," Sturges agreed. "I'll work on a few extras, just in case. Never know if those assholes are going to come for us."

"After Quincy, we can't be too careful," Preston said, glancing down at his hands pressing against the table. "I've been worried ever since about things going to hell, and I really hope it's just a residual, bad feeling. Getting as many folks here as possible was hard enough…and I don't want what went down in Quincy to happen again."

"Things are getting better," Sturges reassured him, patting his back. "In no small part because you've been working your ass off, Preston! It's been rough, I know, but you should be damn proud of what you've accomplished. It's because of you the Minutemen are still around, and standing strong."

"He's right," Derek said, setting down his water to briefly take off and brush the dirt and dust off his glasses. "Even though none of us expected things to happen the way they did, you stepped up to lead, and have been tirelessly dedicated to bringing the Minutemen back from the brink. You've done everything to keep people safe, and you finally got as many here from Quincy as you could. The massacre at Quincy is on the hands of the gunners, not you."

"Quite right," Codsworth observed. "I know you are proud of what you have accomplished in helping to bring people together, but you should be just as proud of all you've done to be able to even begin to help families and farms come together to protect each other. Anyone who is capable of doing what you have should be recognised for it, and you have more than earnt my respect, Preston."

He smiled. "Thanks, Codsworth. I hope you know your words mean a lot to me."

"I'm happy to hear it!" Codsworth chirped. "I know you all may be weary of me saying so, but I am so incredibly proud and happy to know you have become friends of Miss Nora. I couldn't have wished for better people to be in her life after everything she's been through."

"Nora's a real badass," Sturges said, dusting off his hands. "I'm real damn impressed whenever I see the woman with a gun. She may have been born before the War, but she's got the spirit to survive out here, must have always had it. Some people are just built different, can adapt at the blink of an eye if need be."

"She is," Derek agreed with a laugh. "Surprised me, surprised Hads even more. Maybe my wife is more risk averse than average, but every time she and Nora have talked about guns, it's stunned her how much she knows."

"Miss Nora and her husband used to love hunting and hiking," Codsworth remarked. "They had been looking forward to teaching young Shaun how to do so and join them when he got older. I hope they'll find each other again soon, make up for the lost time. It may not be quite the same, but I imagine they can still pass their love for those things on to their son!"

"I'm sure they will," Derek said. "In fairness to Hads, she grew up incredibly sheltered, and with money. Her parents – despite the amount of Nuka Cola they drink – are health nuts, and have never let their kids eat meat. To this day, Hads never has, and neither have our kids. Truthfully, I couldn't be more relieved they've been able to have such a stable and sheltered life…and I'm happy I'm a part of it."

"You remind me so much of Mister Nate," Codsworth happily said. "Missus Hadley may be very different from Miss Nora, but you and Mister Nate seem so similar. You both have even served in the military, if I remember what Preston said correctly."

"The Brotherhood is the closest thing to the US military since the War," Derek said with a heavy sigh. "I wish things hadn't gone the way they went with them, but what's done is done. They've gone one way, and I've gone another. I only wish they hadn't lost their way after defeating the Enclave. It's a goddamn shame, and hard to remember, especially knowing some of them are now in the Commonwealth."

"I've heard they're just scouting around," Sturges said, cracking his knuckles. "For what, I ain't sure, but I don't think they're going to bother us. Definitely more worried about them gunners and raiders," He turned to Preston. "You don't think any of them are operating out of the Combat Zone, do you?"

Preston turned to him in surprise. "The Combat Zone? It's still operating?"

Derek grimly nodded. "Unfortunately, yes. I guess, for some people, if it makes money, then it doesn't matter who gets hurt – figuratively and literally."

"It's barbaric," Preston said, pausing in horror. "I heard a rumour, a few weeks back, about a young woman who's abused by the Combat Zone bosses. What are the odds it's true?"

"Unfortunately high," Derek and Sturges said almost simultaneously.

"I don't know the details of the situation, because she won't talk about it, but there's a young woman who works there as a fighter," Derek said. "She's friends with one of my kids, but I don't know if she's there regularly of her own volition or not. Either way, I think we're all just as if not more concerned by her addictions."

"Someone's always getting trafficked through there," Sturges said in disgust. "Whoever the son of a bitch who's operating it is must have a stone heart."

Preston sighed, reaching for his laser musket.

"Can the two of you hold down Sanctuary for me, before we start reaching out to more settlements?"

"Absolutely," Sturges assured him. "Why? You going down there?"

"If I'm going to be a leader of the Minutemen, I need to be able to help people at a minute's notice," Preston replied, slinging his bag and his musket over his shoulders. "And, if there's a chance an innocent person is being abused in such a barbaric machine, I'm not going to let them suffer. I'm going to do everything I can to try and help…because who will if not us?"

"Shall I accompany you?" Codsworth asked, already beginning to prepare supplies for Preston to take with. "Or will you be alright on your own?"

"I'll be alright on my own," Preston assured him. "But thanks, Codsworth. I know you and the rest of the Minutemen will take care of everyone here. They need it…and I need to make this journey on my own."

The Commonwealth
February the 24th, 2288
19:29

For Deacon, the moment of levity provided by seeing the already pretty, small, dainty Annette Davis in a nearly skin tight Vault suit and a Pip-Boy on her wrist had been almost enough to ascend him to heaven.

Remembering what they were doing and why did away with the feeling far too quick for comfort.

Slowly wading down to and then into the door through an old sewer pipe, Deacon, Dan, and Annette all took one last look back to ensure they were not being followed, particularly by Janet Haylen or Laurent Rhys. They're too calculated. Annette's warning the day before still lingered in both Deacon and Dan's ears. She had been serious, and both she and Deacon had agreed, when he showed her and Dan their holotags signifying them as members of the Brotherhood Of Steel, they could not be trusted for such a delicate operation. The Brotherhood are good at one thing – winning wars. They are no diplomats, certainly not then, and I sincerely doubt now. They'll do whatever it takes to get their way...whether it's by force or taking advantage of you. I lost two years of my life to them...and running back to the Vault after the war with the Enclave...it still didn't seem far enough. Nothing is ever far enough from the Brotherhood. Glancing back over her shoulders, her gun holstered on her leg and a case of ammunition, caps, and medical supplies in her bag, Annette walked forward, 'Brian' and Dan just behind her. No way in hell Brian is his real name. No one who has hair that long and that blonde goes by Brian. The temporary amusement at her own question around the name of Dan's companion vanished when she heard the voices up ahead. Rolling her shoulders back, and seeing the two men behind her hide their weapons, she stepped into the open where guards were waiting for them to arrive.

"Mayor wasn't kidding," One of the guards said, staring at Annette. "You're the real deal."

"Yeah," Another guard said, his eyes falling on her chest. "It suits you."

Annette frowned. "Your mayor said I can speak with the woman who formed your town's current operations? The woman who is, supposedly, originally from the same Vault I grew up in?"

"Follow me," The first guard said, warily looking at Deacon and Dan. "Forgot you were bringing backup."

"I don't travel alone," Annette said curtly. "Life has more than once proved to me travelling alone is something you should only do if there's no other option."

The guard grunted in agreement, casting one last suspicious look at Dan and Deacon before waiting for them and Annette to follow after them. The other two guards left behind stared coldly at the two men, even more so when Deacon, sure neither Annette or Dan were looking at him, turned around to childishly stick his tongue out at the two guards and flip them off before following primly after his two other companions. Walking through the tunnels, a disquieting feeling began to fill his body as Dan looked between the guard, Annette, and Deacon. Something about the way their footsteps echoed, and the red service tunnel lights occasionally flickered, made everything feel wrong. Passing a few rooms with closed doors, he took in a sharp breath, catching the briefest glimpse of prison cells that had been built into the pre-War infrastructure. I hate this place even more than the damn town. Seems I was right. They really are torturing people. Sick fucking bastards, all of them. After turning a few corners, going up a few flights of stairs, and then through a door and down a long corridor, they stepped into a large room, where an older woman with steel grey hair wearing welding goggles and a lab coat was waiting for them, arms crossed.

"Will wonders ever cease?" The woman said, raising her welding goggles up to rest on her forehead, eyes widening when she looked at Annette. "James' girl? You've certainly grown up."

"Don't patronise me," Annette snapped. "I want answers, Rosyln, and I want them without any bullshit."

The woman named Rosyln raised an eyebrow. "You've certainly lost your sensibilities over the years. What a shame. I recall you tested very high as an intelligent and charismatic person on your GOAT. Alphonse put you on the fast track for medical training in the Vault because of it."

"Yes, and then he decided to try and kill my father," Annette said bitterly. "He would have killed Amata, too, if she had gotten in his way. He was a monster, at least by the end, and I'm glad he's dead. At least, once you're six feet under, you can't hurt anyone else."

"You're dismissed, Franklin, go and head back to your duties," Rosyln said, waving the guard off. She beckoned Annette closer, losing sight of Deacon and Dan, having barely noticed they were there in the first place. "I knew you were your father's daughter from the start. Granted, I never knew your mother, and James was never keen to talk about her. Was she the scientist you said you met in Rivet City, by chance?"

Annette shook her head. "If you're talking about Dr. Li, then, no, Madison is only a close family friend. She and my dad worked closely together, for years, alongside my mother, who died...why does it matter to you? Are you simply trying to divert me from what I really want to know?"

Roslyn frowned. "Speak, if you must, Annie. I'll answer whatever questions you have. I owe your father a great deal. I heard, before I left the Capital, of his passing. Such a loss."

"Don't call me Annie. And, yes, it was. He also trusted you greatly, as one of his best medical technicians and assistants," Annette said, crossing her arms. "Allow me to finish first, but, afterwards, do correct me if I'm wrong. From what I've gathered, several people, yourself included, left Vault 101 following the Enclave's defeat. Upon Amata, as Overseer, opening up the Vault to the rest of the Capital Wasteland around the same time as the Enclave's defeat, you came to the Commonwealth. I don't know your purpose for leaving, and I don't care. We all have our reasons. I certainly have mine."

"Yes, girl, we do all have reasons for leaving," Rosyln said sharply, briefly glancing behind her. Seeing nothing, she turned back towards Annette. Deacon and Dan breathed a sigh of relief and approached a cell where a young girl was shaking badly and locked up. "I assume you haven't said all you intend to, so, please, don't keep me waiting. I do important work here."

Annette scoffed. "Because torturing and killing people is 'important work,' I see how it is. But I'm not there yet. After you arrived in the Commonwealth and joined a small settlement attempting to bring life back to some sense of pre-War normalcy, you learnt of the Institute. And synths. I don't know your reasons, and I suspect I don't want to, but, from what I can tell, you took the GOAT Test we all had to take in Vault 101 and adapted it into this so-called SAFE Test in an attempt to see on a whim if people were synths and, if they could be, take them off and torture and kill them."

"Just as you and your father were not born in Vault 101, nor was I," Rosyln said coldly. "My parents were killed by an Institute synth in 2229, when I was only ten. My aunt took me to the Capital Wasteland in hopes to find a safer life for me there, and made contact with the Vault who let us in out of pity. Coming back here was inevitable. I cannot live my life without avenging my parents and all of the people the Institute have killed over the years. Did you not know about their misdeeds? Or are you simply assuming they've done none?"

"I have no doubt the Institute have made their share of mistakes," Annette said acidly. "What I doubt are your intentions as to why you would use a damned test to assign teenagers jobs to attempt to identify people as synths."

"You took vengeance on the Enclave," Rosyln reminded her. "I know what you would do if your family were destroyed by a synth, right in front of you, when you were but a child because I know what you did when your father was murdered by the Enclave, right in front of you. Say what you will about your hatred for the Brotherhood and all the time you spent as an indentured servant in their Citadel. At the end of the day, you took their side, and you were more than happy to help destroy the Enclave."

"Annie, we need to –" Madison had grabbed her, panicking. "It's –"

"We can't leave him!" Annette had shaken, tears starting to silently stream down her face. "Not –"

"Annie, this isn't the –" Madison had gasped, she and Annette turning around in horror when an Enclave leader shot one of her assistants, then approaching James.

"Am I to assume you are the one in charge?" He had sneered, grabbing James' face and pointing a gun to his head when he nodded. "Well, tell me – do you believe in God?"

James had looked up at him and sighed. "Yes."

"Then go be with him."

A gunshot had rung out. Neither of them were sure who screamed louder. Madison had suddenly grabbed Annette by the arm and the two of them had run, all they could carry in their arms, and they ran. Ran until they were out of breath, ran until they arrived where they had started running to despite never having thought much of it before. Madison had handed off what she had been carrying to Annette, before storming up to the gates, almost painfully hitting at them.

"Lyons! I know you're in there! I know you can hear me!" Madison had shouted with anger Annette had never thought possible from the otherwise composed and reserved woman. "You open this goddamn door right now!"

"The Enclave weren't using innocent beings as their fucking playthings and saying it was for the sake of helping the people around them. They fucked with people for the fun of it, destroyed lives just because they could," Annette finally said, holding herself, shaking badly. "I don't care if synths are created by the Institute. If you can't tell one apart from a person, and they have free will, then they deserve to live a safe life."

"Can't you see, Annie?" Rosyln angrily said, approaching her with her voice raised so loud it covered up the sounds of the cell door creaking and Deacon and Dan rushing the young girl out. Annette only briefly glanced at them as they snuck out with her. Get Amelia home safe. That's what matters. "Everything we have done has been to stop the suffering of more innocents!" Rosyln had gone on, toe to toe with Annette. "Suffering at the hands of the Institute and their synth menace! Yes, a living synth is indistinguishable from a human by any medical test yet devised. But the answer may lay in psychology, hence our revisions of the GOAT. Before you begin to lecture me, yes. We most certainly do want to kill all synths, but we have to find them first."

"You're no doctor, not anymore, not like this," Annette said, her voice wavering in rage, her hands reaching for something solid to hold onto, absentmindedly falling to her gun. "Torture is not science. You don't deserve to be called Dr. Rosyln Chambers. Not like this, and not –"

Rosyln suddenly pulled out her own pistol, having glimpsed Annette's hands falling, and grabbed her by the arm, attempting to shoot her. Annette barely wrenched out of her grasp, and pulled her own gun out, hands shaking. She closed her eyes, and pulled the trigger. Once. Twice. Thrice. Then, there was nothing until something hit the floor. When she opened her eyes, she saw Rosyln had fallen to the floor, dead. Falling to her knees, she didn't even notice Deacon coming back into the room, having successfully and quickly snuck Dan and Amelia out. Annette dropped her gun, and fell forward, beginning to sob.

"What have I done?" She whimpered, breaking down when Deacon came over to see if she were alright. "I'm no better than her…I…I can't be. I…I fucking killed her."

The Institute
February the 25th, 2288
12:33

Of all the mischief Quentin Filmore and Jacqueline Spencer found themselves in, spying on members of the Directorate was one of their favourites. When more than one of them were together, and with Father and Mister Nate, their curiosity was even more piqued.

Having once again stolen one of Dr. Holdren's synth bees and affixed to it a small, hidden camera and microphone, Jacq and Quentin had connected them to wireless earbuds and a small tablet. When they managed to fly the bee to sit on a small plant in the Directorate's meeting room, they shared an excited grin when they saw Dr. Li step into the room where Father, Mister Nate, and Dr. Binet were waiting. So clearly in no mood for much conversation, and more than likely annoyed at being drawn away from her work, Dr. Li pushed the button to shut and lock the doors behind her after swiping her ID card and waited for one of them to say something. Dr. Binet, on the other hand, was much more enthusiastic, and ready to discuss whatever it was they had been both called in for. Most likely synth Shaun. He's adorable, and also the only thing I think Dr. Li and Dr. Binet jointly work on. She rarely has anything to do with synths. Hopping up onto the couch, the adoptive siblings stared closely at the tablet, and pressed the earbuds farther into their ears, hungry in anticipation for one of the four of them to say something interesting beyond the usual (and, for Dr. Li, apparently uncomfortable) pleasantries.

"How's work coming along with the child synth project?" Nate finally said once the four of them sat down together at the table. "I haven't gotten the chance to stop by and see him recently."

"Trial Six is going well," Dr. Li said with a faint frown. "The last week alone has been incredibly productive, but my staff and, frankly, myself are exhausted and need a break. We would, in particular, prefer to circle back to Phase Three work, considering how necessary Phase Three is to the Institute collectively and Advanced Systems specifically."

"You have done marvellous work," Dr. Binet said with an easy smile. "S9-23 is quite the feat."

"Yes, well..." Dr. Li said. "I can't contest the work you've done with the personality mesh. It's marvellous, and is absolutely some of the most lifelike I've seen."

Father nodded. "How has that impacted the responses to emotional and physical stimuli?"

"They map almost identically to expectations," Dr. Li replied. "Which, I should note, is having an effect on the team. It can be uncomfortable to work with S9-23. He's not really you, of course, and none of your memories are in there. That, even now, would be a step too far, and the exhaustion the project has put on the team already would only be worsened if we went that route."

"The Institute hasn't attempted any work with memories since our prototype Gen 2 project," Father assured her. "We won't be attempting anything along those lines in any imminent work on S9-23."

"Good," Dr. Li said, handing him a thin file from across the table. "These are this week's notes. It's mentioned in there, but I think we need to seriously consider restricting him to the lab, if only for the moment. I'm well aware that others are…put off by his presence, and there's no reason to risk interrupting other work by having him roam freely around the Institute, even putting aside the serious concern that he could get lost given just how massive the Institute is."

"I'll approve that in writing soon, then," Father said, and Dr. Li faintly nodded. "The work you've done since he came back from living in Diamond City with Kellogg last year has been remarkable."

"Speaking of Kellogg," Mister Nate added. "I assume you both have received the update we sent to the Directorate?"

"Yes, we have, thank you for the clarification," Dr. Binet said. "We appreciate knowing you aren't unnecessarily keeping him out and a security risk for no reason."

"We should have communicated more clearly on the matter," Mister Nate shook his head. "Unfortunately, the situation emerged suddenly, and the decision was made so quickly we forgot to have it notated. Regardless, I concede we should have told the Directorate the purpose of sending him out at the time or, at the very least, the SRB since our Coursers have been his primary contacts for updates to his work and what we expect of him in the field. As you now well know, this job we have him on at the moment is incredibly important, and we should have made that clear."

"Dr. Virgil's research being stolen by a runaway synth is absolutely important," Dr. Binet agreed. "It's a shame what happened to him. We were within a few months of shutting down the FEV Programme, and I expected him to be quite valuable in some of the joint projects between Bioscience and Robotics. If only he had lived to be able to shift focus to the Synth Zoological Initiative, or other research of his own."

"What happened to Dr. Virgil was awful," Dr. Li said, her voice a bit sharpish. "And his research was incredibly complex. A runaway synth having it could spell disaster if it got into the wrong hands. Nothing good can from this if the synth isn't found and the research recovered."

"Hence Kellogg's presence in the field right now," Father said, a sympathetic note entering his voice. "I understand Dr. Virgil's death has been hard on you personally these last two years since his passing, considering the two of you were close friends. I want you to know we are taking this matter seriously, just as seriously as we took his death investigation."

"I appreciate it," Dr. Li said, hesitating briefly. "It was incredibly unusual, for something to go so wrong down here. What happened to him was something I'd expect to happen on the surface. I'd seen laboratory accidents claim far too many brilliant minds during my time in Rivet City, including when I was a child, but in the near decade I've been here, I had never heard of anything at all similar ever happening. So, you can understand, why it was such a shock and why I was upset by it both as a professional and as a friend."

"Completely understandable," Mister Nate said before turning to Dr. Binet. "I'm curious – have any of the observations you've made with S9-23 influenced your research for your presentation in a few months?"

"It has, though why spoil the fun?" Dr. Binet said with a slight laugh. "My days are spent prying open closed minds one at a time, but it has been crucially interesting to examine the observations and data on S9-23's emotions, responses, and brain scans alongside the ones I have from decades of adjustments and research on our Coursers and regular third generation synths. If I may, I should like the opportunity to observe S9-23 when he is asleep. As I've observed so many of our other third generation synths experiencing REM sleep, I believe it's possible a child synth could, too, experience the same."

Dr. Li eyed him strangely. "Are you serious? You can't possibly still be going on about whether or not synths dream, let alone what they dream about. What purpose does that line of research serve?"

"The advancement of our understanding of the synths!" Dr. Binet eagerly replied. "If a synth can dream, why can't it have a soul? And if a synth has a soul, then it is a living person by every standard we can measure, is it not?"

Dr. Li sighed. "As I've heard Dr. Loken say to you plenty of times, if you disapprove of the work we do here, you know where to find the teleporter."

"I never said that," Dr. Binet said coldly. "I'm simply trying to open everyone's eyes to new possibilities. Why not explore all avenues? If we ignore some possibilities just because we don't think they're as interesting, then we aren't very good scientists, now are we?"

"Your research is somewhat…unusual but nonetheless worthwhile," Father said. "If anything, it has allowed us to better understand the psychological side of the programme. Previously, it has been completely unexplored. I wonder if progress we've made with synths today would have come along quicker had we considered that. Perhaps we could have bypassed the second generation synths all together."

"What are they talking about?" Quentin elbowed Jacq, pulling out his earbuds and turning the tablet down. "How could synths even dream? That's weird. They aren't people."

"I've always been confused by synths," Jacq said, taking out her earbuds too. "What they are, why they are, etc. I'm kind of curious about him writing a paper and presentation for it. I'd love to be there for it."

Quentin grinned. "Get another bee for when it happens, I'm sure Dr. Li will mention it! Want to?"

Jacq nodded, smiling too. "Heck yeah I do! And don't worry," She teased. "I'll include you too, baby brother."

Goodneighbour
February the 27th, 2288
20:27

"Thanks for getting the intel on Bobbi," Hancock said, handing MacCready a bag of caps and a bag of ammunition. "I'm sure dealing with being on the inside of her operation wasn't fun. Considering she tried to kill you and all."

MacCready shrugged. "I'm just glad it's over. It is over, isn't it?"

"It is," Hancock quickly reassured him. "I have more than I need. I'm not going to torture you. I wouldn't have told Fahrenheit not to send you back after you gave her the information if it weren't over. She likes to toy with people, but, don't worry, I won't play around with you. I want to keep you around, after all!"

"Hope keeping me around involves paying me," MacCready said dryly. "Or, at least, involves me getting drinks."

Fahrenheit rolled her eyes. "Humour me – how old were you when you started drinking?"

"About seven," MacCready laughed when she narrowed her eyes. "I was mayor of a town of nothing but kids from babies to fifteen. Come to think of it, I started drinking shortly before I became mayor."

Hancock clapped. "Good man!" He cheered. "What was the town?"

"You've probably never been there, it's in the Capital Wasteland," MacCready told him. "It's called Little Lamplight. We even had a basketball court we put together. We had a pretty good hoop setup there…until Eclair broke the darn thing."

"Funny name, Eclair," Fahrenheit remarked. "Thought that was the name of a pastry."

MacCready smirked. "And I thought 'Fahrenheit' was just the name of how we tell temperature…or that stupid pre-War book."

"Feeling bold, are we?" Fahrenheit rolled her eyes. "Alright, Little Bird. Let's just say I chose the name as something of a threat. My behaviour towards anyone is on a scale of degree. The lower you sit, the more indifferent I am to you. If you're in the middle, you're in the right place. And if you're up high…I'll have my guns ready. Particularly this new beauty I've been working on."

MacCready and Hancock both took a step back when she pulled a large minigun out and slammed it down onto the table.

"I call it the 'Ash-Maker,'" Fahrenheit purred, looking proudly at the minigun. "I tested it on a few super mutants the other day. It was good fun."

Hancock reached for and lit a cigarette. "I want to see that thing in action," He eventually said. "You're a formidable weaponsmith. Didn't you design a few things for Kill Or Be Killed the last few months?"

"I have," Fahrenheit said with a wink. "Kleo happens to give me specific instructions for…weapons she would like to see and sell exclusively in Goodneighbour. I get a serious commission from it. I'm rather pleased with the arrangement. And all of my arrangements in this town. As for what we have him here for," She glanced to MacCready. "I always thought No Nose had more brains than this. Guess not. At least we have you to get the edge on her. And people like her."

"Although we aren't going to have you do anything like that again anytime soon," Hancock assured him, fatherly patting MacCready on the back. "I'm glad I had you work the case. You did a damn good job. I don't think most people could have found out all the shit you have on her in nearly as quick a turnaround as you did."

"I'm looking forward to playing with Bobbi," Fahrenheit said, her fingers playfully dancing over her minigun. "She's never going to even know what hit her. No-Nose isn't going to know what to do when she realises we knew what she was up to all along."

"Not quite all along," MacCready said dryly. "Wouldn't have needed me if you had it all tied up and jotted down at the start."

"Hell yeah!" Hancock agreed, elbowing him excitedly. "You're a valuable asset, MacCready. I couldn't do all this shit myself. I mean, how can I know about everything that happens in my territory if I'm just doing it myself? I don't like getting up before noon. There aren't enough hours in the day…at least waking hours."

MacCready eyed him strangely. "What do you do to sleep until noon? I can barely get myself to sleep more than five hours at a time…and only when it's dark out."

"I like to test out new chems at night," Hancock replied, taking a long draw on his cigarette. "You haven't lived until you've taken some daytripper and psycho at the same time at three in the morning."

MacCready grimaced. "I'd rather not. I don't know how you do any of those without kicking it."

"When you wake up a ghoul and mayor of a town after some trips, you learn it has its charms," Hancock said, hopping up onto the back of one of the couches. "Those didn't happen at the same time. Just had a common denominator."

"Well, at least you've stopped taking combinations where I have to babysit you after," Fahrenheit said, sending Hancock a pointed look. "I have no desire to ever see anyone act as…oddly as you did after taking x-cell, orange mentats, and daytripper again. I'm not sure what was worse – how you were on all of those chems or how you were after."

"Sobriety is a suggestion," Hancock said, taking another draw on his cigarette and waving his free hand dismissively. "What the hell's the point of life if you aren't having fun?"

"You could just have a beer or a cig every so often," MacCready said with a shrug. "That's what I do. Craziest thing I ever drink these days is Bobrov's Best Moonshine. Every so often I ask Vadim if he's still killing people with his moonshine. Answer is always the same – no one dies from fun."

"Vadim knows how to live," Hancock said, laughing. "I need to go down to Diamond City to see the guy more often…and intimidate my shit head brother."

"This a lead up to you asking me to do work in Diamond City?" MacCready said, grimacing when Hancock shook his head. "Should I be scared about whatever it is you're going to throw at me now you've got what you need about Bobbi?"

"Nah, you don't have to worry," Hancock reassured him. "Look, you're good to go, Little Bird. Like I said, I'm glad I had you work the case, and you're a valuable asset. For now, you're fine. I know where to find you if I need something done."

"You mean in the back room at the Third Rail?" MacCready let out a sigh of relief when Hancock nodded. "We need to talk about that, actually."

"Something wrong?" Hancock said, stubbing out his cigarette. "Charlie isn't heckling you, is he?"

"Nothing like that, the bar and the regulars are fine," MacCready said, jamming his hands into his pockets. "Honestly, lots of the people you don't usually see in there are fine too. It's these two guys, gunners. Winlock and Barnes. They keep driving off customers, and make it real difficult to get things done."

"They've been causing trouble for a lot of other people around Goodneighbour, too," Hancock shook his head. "I'll deal with them. They're a serious pain in the ass for this town. Gunners are in general, but those two are especially bad. Had to stop them from robbing Daisy the other day."

"They tried to rob Daisy?" MacCready said, his voice darkening. "What's wrong with them? Why would anyone try to rob her? She's a good person, one of the best."

"She is," Hancock agreed. "Which is part of why I'm so angry those assholes are around this town at all. First time someone steps through the gate, they're a guest. Second time they step through the gate, they're either friends, regulars, or enemies. Those guys? They're enemies. I just don't like doing any dictatorial shit. I'll leave that to my brother," He turned to Fahrenheit. "Has my monthly list of grievances against how he treats people in Diamond City been sent yet?"

"No, because the month isn't quite over," Fahrenheit said, pulling out a knife and beginning to sharpen it. "Let the month finish, Hancock. I get the feeling you're going to find something else to throw at him."

"If you want, I can take it over there," MacCready said. "I'll even do it for free. I wouldn't mind an excuse to see what's happening over there."

"Maybe," Hancock said, picking up a bottle of bourbon. "But I want to give you a break. You really need one. Take time to relax, MacCready, live a little. Just don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"There's not much you wouldn't try at least once," Fahrenheit said, eyeing him closely. "I've seen you mix around and try God knows how many chems or forms of alcohol. You're underestimating how much more restrained he is, especially compared to you."

"He ain't a square," Hancock said, popping off the cap and wrapping an arm over MacCready's shoulders. "This man used to run with the gunners and has left them! He's a good kid. And he also has a good kid."

"I'm just trying to be a good person, and a good parent," MacCready said, pushing the bottle away when Hancock offered it to him. "Speaking of which, it's getting late. I need to make sure he's feeling alright and getting good sleep."

"Say hi to Duncan for me," Hancock said, letting go of him before waving at him. "Tell him I've got a present in mind for his birthday in June. I think he's really going to like it."

MacCready managed a small smile. "Thanks, Hancock. I'll just have to check that present to make sure it ain't anything too weird or dangerous for a kid first."