Far Harbour
October the 23rd, 2288
15:17

The fog had not changed.

His chest constricting and his shoulders squared and tense, Preston Garvey took in a few long, deep breaths and cut the motor to the boat, close enough to the dock to be able to safely tie off the boat. The water crashing against the sides of the vessel, it swayed side to side until, with the help of Derek Branson and Eleanor Perkins, the thickly braided ropes secured the boat from the cleats to the dock by the dock lines. After a few minutes of careful knotting and tying up, Preston let out a sigh of relief, the swaying of the boat largely ceasing once it was tied flush against the dock. The feeling of relief washed over him again when the nauseated feeling dissipated with the significant reduction in the boat's back and forth, side to side, motions. Taking his bags up from where he had left them on the seat beside him hours before when they had departed from Salem, he pushed away the trepidation clinging to him, reminding himself of why they were there. The Nakano family need their daughter to come home. If we can help in any way, then we have to. Seeing Ada Branson shivering in the chill of the fog, Preston handed her the coat she had absentmindedly left on one of the seats in the boat's cockpit. She gave him a grateful smile, pulled it on, and quickly scurried off the boat, swinging her backpack over her shoulders, to catch up to her father, already on the dock. With one last check around it, Preston finally stepped off the boat, his laser musket in his hands, and onto the dock of his hometown for the first time in over a decade.

It was almost the same as it had been when he had left, and the fog blanketing everything beyond the visible horizon was the same, too.

"No wonder Mister and Missus Nakano were terrified when they found out this is where their daughter had run off to," Ellie said, taking out her notebook and writing down a few things for Nick to review later. "I'd be scared if my kid were out here alone, too."

"The fog only gets worse past the town," Preston warned her. "And the radiation it brings in is the least worrisome thing coming from the fog."

Ada squeaked, tightly wrapping her coat around herself. "Then what's…" She said, nervously chewing at her lips. "What's the worst thing in the fog?"

"Honestly? I don't think there's one 'worst' thing in the fog," Preston said, turning towards the stairs up to the dock proper. "Well? No point waiting around."

With a brief look at Derek, Preston stepped aside to let him head up the stairs first, keeping one hand firmly on his daughter's shoulders. He went up soon after them. Lingering on the dock, and checking one last time, paranoid, the ropes had been secured, Ellie looked around, taking down a few more notes. Soon enough, she closed the cover and tucked the notebook into the pocket of her skirt alongside its pen. Walking quickly to catch up to Preston, Derek, and Ada, the detective's secretary moved almost silently on the tips of her toes in her well worn boots. She took a minute to simply stare after reaching the stairs and crossing the first few steps. The weather beaten wood, metal, bricks, and concrete were almost cosy, and the well lit buildings all over the dock seemed rather inviting. Breathing in the salted and misty air for the first time in what felt to be nearly forever, Preston closed his eyes and smiled faintly, only to lose any sense of serenity and happiness when he opened his eyes and remembered where they were. Ada, however, was non plussed by their surroundings, and she didn't try to hide her excitement when she and her father stepped onto and into the dock proper no more than a few seconds before Preston. Much more cautious, Derek sent his daughter a pointed look when she turned to him, grinning, and let out a tired sigh when several people started towards them, one of whom was carrying a rather large and very much loaded gun.

"Well, well, well," The man said, setting his gun down and resting it against his legs, glaring at Preston. "Look who came crawling back to his country roots."

"Nice to see you, Allen," Preston cordially replied with a tip of his hat. "Had to come back sooner or later. Some folks might even call it fate."

Allen snorted. "Finally realised those Minutemen mainlanders were all a bunch of dumb fantasists?"

"Nope," Preston said, a bit of pride swelling in his chest. "I'm leading the Minutemen, now."

"So, a big hearted boy from the Harbour has earnt his keep?" A woman said with a cheeky smile. "Allen can run his mouth all he wants, but I'm glad to see you're alright and doing good for yourself, Preston."

"Could say the same to you, Olympia," He said, laughing a little when she loosely embraced him. "Seems you've got things handled out here."

"More or less," She said with a motherly shake of his hands as she let him go. "What brings you back out here?"

"Good question, Captain," Allen gruffly added, glowering at Derek and Ada. "Especially with 'em well off looking mainlanders when we all know –"

"Allen, this isn't your dock, it belongs to the whole town," She cut in, raising a hand to silence him. "And, as such, strangers are welcome."

"Sure," He grumbled. "Sure they are."

"So," Olympia said, turning back to Preston. "I don't imagine you're here for some time off."

"You'd be right," Preston said grimly. "Wish it were better news, but we're here looking for someone who went missing."

"A young woman," Ellie hesitantly added, just barely poking her head over Preston's shoulders, her hands anxiously clasped behind her back. "From the Commonwealth, that is. Her name is Kasumi."

Ada frowned. "Also, why do you need to know? We didn't come all this way to be interrogated by the likes of –"

"Addison!" Derek chided, raising an eyebrow when she turned towards him, sulking. "You know better."

"And, if my tone is short, it's because of dealing with knuckleheads like Allen Lee," Olympia sent the man in question a pointed look. "This is no interrogation. More like a welcome party. People don't come to Far Harbour unless they have a damn good reason, and it might be I can help. In this case," She looked back at Preston. "We did see a young woman, around nineteen or twenty, pass through here a little while back going by the name Kasumi. Can't quite remember where she went after dropping in here, though."

"She badgered Longfellow into taking her to Acadia. Nothing more, nothing less, Avery," A second female voice said, coming over to them and dropping a few tools into her toolbelt. "As I live and breathe. Allen!" She adjusted her glasses and then held out a hand in front of the man's face. "I win. Hand over the caps. I told you Preston wouldn't stay away from here forever."

"I'll drop 'em by your door in the morning, Mariner," Allen irritably said, picking up his gun. "Maybe use 'em to fix up the damn defences of this town."

"Maybe use your guns to get rid of the fog creatures," She replied, childishly sticking her tongue out at him. "Would do a lot more than all your bitching about the rad eaters!"

"Good to see you haven't changed, Caitlin," Preston said, laughing when she rolled her eyes. "What happened to your hair?"

"Still long, still got bangs, have most of it tied up under this beanie because it's fucking cold," She said with a shrug. "Haven't seen you since I was a kid, but I knew you'd be back."

"Good instincts, though I didn't expect…" He shook his head. "Has the fog really pressed all of you into this part of the Island alone?"

"Mostly," She said, cracking her knuckles. "Now my parents, brother and I have given up sole ownership of the dock to keep everyone alive. Impressed? I went from being a rambunctious kid to a tired twenty two year old whose job it is to keep this place from completely falling apart."

"Either way, thank you for reminding me Kasumi went with Longfellow," Olympia sighed, looking over Ada, Derek, Preston, and Ellie. "Didn't even introduce myself to your friends, Preston, I think I'm really losing my grip," She smiled. "Captain Olympia Avery, the de facto leader of this town. If you're looking for Longfellow, he's probably in the bar – The Last Plank – but just know he's…an acquired taste."

Preston chuckled. "He is," His face fell when thunder began to ring out. "Guess now's a good a time as any to start trying to find Kasumi…her family's worried sick and with what we know about the fog? I can't blame them."

Avery sadly nodded. "Neither can I."

The Commonwealth
October the 28th, 2288
11:06

"Go ahead and try it. You'll do a real good job endearing yourselves to the people of the Commonwealth."

Being dead serious was a rare thing for any of the Atom Cats but, for once, their leader was. He stepped towards the group of Brotherhood Scribes and Knights with his gun drawn, cocked, and loaded. A firm scowl on his face and the helmet of his power armour on the ground nearby, Zeke waited for one of the Knights to remove the helmets of their power armour too. When they didn't, he wrinkled his nose in disgust. Can't even face us without hiding behind your digs? Nosebleeds. Got to tell Duke about this when we get back. Hope he's not having too much trouble holding down the home front on his own. Rowdy stepped past him and hopped up onto a small table, pushing the baskets of harvested crops aside, and sitting cross legged on top of it, the only one of the Cats not in their power armour. Two Scribes took a few steps back, and another stepped back as well when Rowdy drew her revolver, though she played with it between her hands while Zeke stood uncompromisingly. In her power armour herself, Roxy walked over to stand next to Rowdy, holding her own gun drawn on the Scribes and Knights, the same as Zeke. On his left side stood Johnny D, fully suited up in his power armour, who handed Zeke his sunglasses when he began to squint in the bright, late morning light. To his right stood Bluejay, in front of the gate into the Warwick family's farm. When one of the Knights moved towards them and drew his gun, Zeke, Bluejay, Roxy, Johnny, and Rowdy all kept their guns drawn too, aimed squarely at the approaching Knight.

"All y'all took the time to fly your stupid little helicopters over here, and for what?" Bluejay said, reloading his M4 Carbine before aiming it at the Knight's chest. "To try and rob a group of farmers?"

"Had to sludge through shit and piss from where you landed, too," Rowdy taunted, waving her revolver dramatically. "So, what are you going to do? Run them over? You'll have to go through us."

"We'd rather not get there," Zeke said, pushing out an arm to hold Bluejay back. "But we're not going to let you go robbing a family blind."

"Robbing blind?" A Scribe exclaimed. "We're collecting requisitions."

"Yeah, sure, requisitions," Johnny rolled his eyes. "Then why did we get asked to help defend them?"

"Because they don't understand what's happening here," A Knight irritably replied. "By order of the Brotherhood Of Steel, under leadership of Elder Maxson and the direct orders of Proctor Teagan, we are here to collect requisitions and ensure cooperation by the local civilians."

Rowdy snorted. "Ensure cooperation, sure."

"What on earth are you –" The first Knight said, disgust entering her voice when Rowdy set down her revolver and lit up a cigarette. "Of course you people all engage in nasty habits."

"Nasty habits?" Rowdy laughed, taking a long draw on her cig before waving the smoke at the Scribes and Knights. "Sorry, but if you want to make me feel bad for being a smoker, you're going to have to try much harder than calling it a nasty habit with your nasal ass, fake sweet voice."

"Could do to take off your helmets and face us like men," Roxy added, taking off her helmet with a flourish. "We'll be civil if you will be too."

"Our mission is to ensure the full cooperation of civilian farmers, by any means necessary," Another Knight angrily said. "How much clearer do you want us to make it?"

"We know what you mean," Johnny said, rolling his eyes. "But we're not having it. You all obviously have money to pay people for what you're saying you need."

"Flagrantly would be a better word," Roxy said, frowning at the Knights slowly moving towards Bluejay and the gates into the farm. "You come in here on a massive air ship, with massive air and manpower, and are building something ginormous on the tarmac of an airport blown to shit two hundred years ago. You expect us to think you don't have a ton of caps?"

"So, hand over the caps to the family and buy from them legitimately, or get out," Bluejay added, snorting when a Knight stepped back upon Zeke pointing his M16 at them. "Pussies."

"Do you even know how good you have it with us here?" A Scribe snapped. "If it weren't for us coming, the Institute would only continue to manipulate and –"

"I'd rather deal with the Institute than you," Rowdy said flippantly, drawing on her cig. "At least we know what them and their robots want. They just want to hide in their little world wherever the fuck they are and do stupid science shit."

"The Institute are creating abominations of nature!" The Scribe said, pinching his nose shut when Rowdy waved some of her smoke towards him again. "Does no one in your Commonwealth have manners?"

"Do you?" Bluejay taunted. "Pretty sure, just because you've got the fun little laser toys, we've got better guns than you. Doubt your lasers are much of a match for our bullets."

"True," Rowdy said with a smirk, though she pushed her revolver to the side on the table she was sat upon to pull out her silver studded baseball bat from her backpack beneath it and not another gun. "Plus, we've got some, shall we say, more traditional beauties."

The first Scribe looked at her in disbelief. "You seriously think your weapons are superior to ours when you play with a baseball bat? What do you even do with –"

Stubbing out her cigarette and no longer able to take the equivocating, Rowdy stood up, flipped her baseball bat in her hands, and whacked the Scribe upside the head with her bat. One swing, followed by another, and another. When the Scribe fell over, unconscious, two of the Knights turned towards her, their guns aimed at her. They stopped short of firing on her when Johnny and Zeke stepped in front of her, fully suited in their power armour, and with their own guns drawn. The other five Scribes scrambled to get behind the three Knights, picking up and carrying their unconscious colleague with them. Feeling her point had been made, Rowdy set her studded baseball bat on the table beside her revolver and began digging through her backpack again when Roxy came and stood beside Zeke and Johnny. Staring down the three Knights in their power armour, Roxy, Zeke, and Johnny kept their weapons drawn but whispered amongst themselves. One of the Knights began to step forward when he heard Roxy, under her breath, make fun of their Brotherhood issued power armour but was pulled back by his Brother and Sister when Roxy pointed her ACR at them in warning. When Rowdy stepped back out from behind them, it was with an AR-18 in hand, almost comically large compared to her small stature.

"Now, you see," She said, half playfully waving her gun. "We would have a lot more respect for you if you'd be honest about what you're doing here in the Commonwealth. This could be all over if you'd just get away from this farm or pay them fairly for whatever the fuck it is you want from them."

"If you don't cooperate, we'll be left with no choice but to use force," The first Knight said, her voice dripping with vitriol. "We'd like to avoid collateral damage, but the food stores don't replenish themselves."

"Use force? I'd like to see you try."

The five conscious Scribes and the three Knights whipped towards the gate upon hearing the voice of a woman followed by the creak of its opening. Stepping back in front of it once she passed through, Bluejay smirked a little at the Knights, who looked more and more annoyed by the second. Roxy let out a long whistle, surprised to see June Warwick walking out from the farm and her home. Her old handgun holstered on her side and arms crossed, the no-nonsense, tired, and motherly composure she usually held was gone in favour of a cold, uncompromising glare the Warwick matriarch realised she had not used in many years. One of the Scribes snorted, unafraid, and the others looked merely bored. They only began to look concerned when she approached the Knights and stopped only a metre or so away from them. Rowdy and Zeke grinned at each other and Bluejay, still in front of the gate and ready to fire if need be, waited at the ready. None of the Knights made any moves closer to June, however, and, for a minute, they were in simple, stunned silence.

"We may have called in the Cats to lend us a hand, but we ain't afraid to fight back ourselves," June said, her eyes narrowing when one of the Knights scoffed. "So, if you want to do this the hard way, then we can do it the hard way but, whichever way you choose, you are going to get your asses off our farm, or we're going to throw you into the wastewater with all the shit from our livestock."

"You hicks have no idea how good you have it with us here," The first Knight took off her helmet to glower at June, who pulled out her gun and aimed it at her. "You're not going to shoot me, you know –"

June fired off several shots, all of them landing no more than a few centimetres away from the Knight's feet. The Scribes, their unconscious Brother in tow, began running back to the vertibird. The other two Knights raised their weapons and pointed them at June, and the first Knight stepped back, furious.

"You ain't getting warning shots the next time," June told her, matching the fury in the woman's eyes with her voice. "This is private property, so either you can get off, or you're going to have a real shit time because, trust me, no one in the Commonwealth is going to give in to you arrogant motherfuckers and your goddamned saviour complex."

The Institute
November the 1st, 2288
12:15

To no surprise, when Dr. Madison Li stepped back into her office after a brief lunch with Dr. Allison Filmore, Dr. Janet Thompson, and Dr. Rosalind Orman, there were a plethora of emails waiting for her the second she logged into her computer terminal. Tired just looking at them, she sighed, and sat down at her desk, briefly closing her eyes, resting her head in her hands.

Things were busy. They were so busy, as it were, to the point where the word was near meaningless. A little annoyed, when she opened her eyes again, she realised an additional few emails had come in. Her hand all but snapping over the computer mouse, the other resting over the keys, she began quickly scrolling through to the bottom, looking for the last read communication. The second she found it, she clicked on the first unopened one above it and began to read. One after the other. Every so often, she would pause, take a closer look, and mark the email as important; easy to find and return to later. The first one to catch her eye also made her raise an eyebrow from its subject line alone. Old Papers From The FEV Programme? Taking a cursory look over it, Madison frowned and opened the first of multiple long PDFs, unsurprised to find them full of failed experiments but surprised by the quantity. Clicking back to the main tab and the email, her eyes narrowed the further down she read. Though the youngest member of the Directorate, Dr. Clayton Holdren was, she knew, far from naïve and, more importantly, a dreadful liar. To see him growing more confused and flustered by information he, she suspected, should have had access to as head of the Bioscience Division was troubling.

The more of the email she read, the more accurate that assessment seemed to be.

My understanding of the FEV virus was it had been an attempt to create an injection which could boost a human immune system beyond natural capacities overall and, specifically, make one less susceptible to radiation poisoning and general disease. The earliest records we have on the strain developed by the Institute date back to 2068, at which time it had been artificially developed and was being tested on its compatibility with organic structures in a body through early, preliminary tests on animals. By 2096, we have the first records of a successful run in animal testing, with human testing beginning the year after, starting with volunteers from within the Institute itself. After years of minimal progress and not wanting to rely on those within the Institute itself, unethically, my predecessors took people from the Commonwealth, some of whom volunteered without question and some of whom were extensively misled about what they were consenting to in order to receive vast amounts of additional resources from the Institute to supplement their usually quite impoverished homesteads or towns. Regardless of ethics, the human trials continued. These ended disastrously and the human DNA samples failed to coalesce with the FEV in the earliest attempts to create synthetic organics from the 2100s to 2120s. They began taking people from the surface in the 2130s.

Of note, there's a massive gap in any FEV research from 2145 until 2170, which seems to suggest the programme was temporarily abandoned. If I recall correctly, this was around the time the Institute began attempting to implant memories of pre-War people – police detectives, university professors, etc – into our second generation synths, which failed to yield any promising results. It appears that was the impetus for FEV research recommencing by 2172, where the next paper in the sequence is dated. Our records on the programme appear impeccable, so I find it hard to believe anything has been removed without documentation. However, in the return to that line of research, the FEV programme continued to be stagnant and be given minimal resources from 2170 onwards, only picking up briefly around 2226 until 2229. Research just about stopped once the first, successful third generation synths were made in 2228, apart from briefly restarting when Dr. Zimmer brought back a strain of FEV from the Capital Wasteland in 2277 which had belonged to the 'Enclave.'

Dr. Virgil's research is included in the papers, and it all ended up with failed or inconclusive results, something his notes indicate he was incredibly frustrated by. He appeared to have been working on a cure for the FEV virus strain we had developed, as the one Zimmer brought back was discarded less than a year after it came into our possession. Frankly, though, all of this baffles me. It seems to be nothing more than a waste of resources, certainly after 2228. We can talk more about this later, Madison. I want to know what the hell is going on here, now, just as much as you do. It's baffling.

Dr. Clayton Caleb Holdren, Bioscience Division Head
"Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results." – Albert Einstein

"Under better circumstances, I'd find your email signature almost patronising," Madison muttered to herself. "But, unfortunately, it's accurate to how it feels trying to get anything out of Father regarding the FEV programme and laboratory."

Hearing the buzzer on her desk go off, indicating an access request to her office, she briefly opened the security alert to check whose ID had been scanned. Seeing it was Rosalind's, albeit a bit annoyed, Madison tapped the buzzer twice to allow access. Rosalind nearly fell over when the doors opened, one too many books in her arms, and barely managed to set them down without tripping over herself, only to fall over anyway when she tried to regain her composure. She nervously rubbed at her head when she heard the doors shut and lock behind her, only to look up, briefly confused, when she realised Dr. Li was standing over her, offering her a hand to help her up. A bit flustered when she got back on her feet, Rosalind hesitated before following Madison over towards the back of her office, the older woman apparently pulling some physical copies of department files. Though she knew what she was looking for and where it was, Madison still paused before pulling out the files, glancing back at the still nervous Janice. Rosalind. She almost instantly corrected herself but couldn't help but check to make sure the woman in her office was Rosalind Orman and not Janice Kaplinsky. She's been dead for a decade. If she hadn't been killed, I almost certainly would have brought her with me, if only because of how much she wanted to travel. Uncomfortable with the memories, Madison sighed, pulled the files out, and handed them to Rosalind, who still looked rather anxious.

"The designs and test results from the weapons development project you're working on with Jacqueline are coming along nicely," Madison said, eyeing her closely. "The older ones you've been experimenting on seem to be more efficient, too. I know Dr. Watson sometimes gives you a hard time about wanting to work in the range, but you're rather good at it, and, more to the point, passionate about it."

Rosalind awkwardly nodded. "I…thanks, Dr. Li. It's good to hear that, every now and again."

"Well, you've certainly done a lot of intense work in the last few months alone," Madison paused when Rosalind looked down at her feet. "Are you alright?"

"I am, but also…just nervous," Rosalind admitted, tucking the files under her right arm and rubbing at her neck. "I've never been above ground before, and, while it does fascinate me, there…there really could be anything up there."

"The good thing for you, then, is the fact you'll be in one location," Madison reminded her. "And I seriously doubt Dr. Filmore or Dr. Thompson would bring you along if they thought you'd be in immense danger or be a drag on the operation."

"No, I…" Rosalind shook her head. "It's hard to wrap my head around. Everything I've read about things above ground is nerve wracking. I probably shouldn't have asked Dr. Secord to show me some of the SRB's most recent surveillance tapes. The ones from the airport…you don't think the Brotherhood are going to be waiting at Mass Fusion for us, do you?"

"Seeing as they have no recorded presence anywhere near the area, I'm going to say no, they won't be," Madison said, irritated at the thought. "The Brotherhood may be relentless hoarders of technology, but they don't seem to be aware there's anything of importance left at the Mass Fusion Global Headquarters, let alone in its sublevels."

"They really are a nuisance," Rosalind said, still looking nervous. "I guess it's hard not to worry about them. They have a lot of man…and fire…and…they have a lot of power."

"But not enough common sense," Madison pointedly told her. "If it makes you feel any better, I know there's no chance Father would have approved this operation be carried out by Institute personnel and not our synths if he weren't convinced it would be effective and relatively safe."

Rosalind hesitantly nodded. "I know. It's just hard not to worry."

"I can't fault you there," Madison said, falling silent a moment. "But you'll be alright. Listen to Dr. Filmore and Dr. Thompson, and, I'm sure, you'll do alright."

The Commonwealth
November the 7th, 2288
9:14

Home had never felt more unsafe.

The Cats, Sturges, and Derek had known what they were doing, and, so, it was not the power armour which left her uneasy, strange as it felt to walk in it. The sound of the heavy armour was something Nora knew she could feel from her toes to her nose, and the occasional smacking of the two larger bags she was carrying on her back against it startled her every so often. Even after three slow days of walking from Diamond City to Plainville, the sounds of her own movements in the power armour had yet to become normal. I ran a similar path to this during Freshman year of high school…and to think I thought making it from home to Fenway Park in ten hours was fast when I was one of the slowest in the class. The memory, for a moment, made her laugh. The spring 'Freshman Run' had made little sense to any of them at the time and, yet, it had also been fun, if only because it meant they got to miss a day of classes and got free tickets to a baseball game after. It feels like it only happened a decade ago, almost eleven years, come April, anyways. But it hasn't been, it's been… Not trusting herself to be able to keep going if she went too far down the rabbit hole, Nora took a minute to stop, catch her breath, and look over at Nick who, carrying several bags himself, was still calmly walking beside her.

They both knew why it had taken them so long to get to the town, and it had nothing to do with agility, endurance, or willpower.

Going through Plainville to get to Providence was more than a strategic choice. It was an emotional one, and an impulsively emotional one to boot.

In Plainville, Massachusetts, 2056, Marilyn and David Adelaide had moved their little family into a bigger home closer to the maternal grandparents of their children.

Gemma Adelaide, then five.

Nora Adelaide, then three.

Jason and Ryan Adelaide, then infants.

Standing in front of the home she had grown up in, now, Nora Jacqueline Norwich found herself wanting to vomit when she remembered the date. November the 7th.

Her birthday.

"This where you grew up?" Nick quietly asked, bowing his head when she nodded. "I'm sorry, Nora."

"I'm the only one of my siblings to live past twenty four, and now I…I'm twenty six?" Her voice wavered. "Gemma," She softly said, crossing the first step up to the front door. "Jason," She said, crossing the second. "Ryan," She paused after crossing the third, staring into the dilapidated and unkempt house, the door half rotted away with termites crawling and gnawing on it to take care of the rest. "My parents weren't religious, and neither am I but…" She fell silent. "If there is an afterlife, I just hope they're together. And were…were able to reconcile."

"Reconcile?" Nick said, a bit surprised. "With a God or…"

"With each other," Nora said, blinking back tears underneath the heavy layers of the power armour, the hazmat suit, and her regular clothes. "My…our parents with Gemma, after…after her suicide. Jason with all of them, and Ryan with…with himself."

"I hope they got the chance too," Nick said, lingering on the walkway up to the house when she stepped through the door. "Should I stay here?"

Nora shook her head. "I don't think being alone could make this any…easier."

When she disappeared around a corner and deeper into the house, feeling sure he would not be encroaching on her mourning, Nicholas Julius Valentine found himself hesitating when he reached the steps. Not wanting to trespass or, at the very least, feel as though he were trespassing, Nick bowed his head and, as Nora had, spoke the names of her sister and brothers when he crossed each step, the only difference being the three words he said after saying each name and before crossing the next step and saying the next name. Yehi zichra baruch. May her memory be a blessing, he said after crossing Gemma's step. May his memory be a blessing, he said after crossing Jason's step. May his memory be a blessing, he said after crossing Ryan's step. He crossed the threshold into the home and bowed his head once more, closing his eyes for a few seconds. Never thought I'd use the words I've heard from Hadley, Derek, and their kids in this tragic a case. Then again, it's better to have some words than none at all. Careful where he walked, not wanting to disturb the foundation or what structural integrity the house still had left, Nick slowly looked around, unsurprised to see much of the home had been raided, he reckoned, well over a century ago but could not help but feel disheartened by it. Most of what remained were things of no value to those whom had not lived in the home but, after seeing and unlocking a small safe, the one he was startled by was an old, fraying, and worn out calendar with the year on top of it reading 2077.

Gingerly taking it out from inside the safe he had found under the kitchen sink which he had opened on impulse, Nick hesitated before setting it down on the counter. With his mechanical hand, he carefully flipped back to the start of the year, reading each note remaining on the page. January the 9th, 2077 – Jason comes home from deployment. January the 17th, 2077 – Nora's baby shower. January the 29th, 2077 – Ryan's 1st year sober. He swallowed hard, reading the line again. Sober from what? Looking around, about to ask, Nick stopped himself when he realised he was alone in the kitchen. Turning the page, he quickly moved from February to March after seeing what was written on February the 5th, 2077. 35 years married, and 35 more to come! He looked quickly through March before turning to April. April to June. June to July. July. He almost dropped the calendar when he saw what was written July the 9th, 2077 – first grandbaby born! 7lbs, 8oz, Shaun Nathaniel Norwich! Seeing the date and how the words had been circled in bright blue ink, still peeking through despite the two centuries since it had been laid down, Nick stared at it, temporarily transfixed. Suddenly feeling sick, the thought of what might have compelled the then-infant's grandparents to put their calendar in their safe crossing his mind, Nick began flipping through the calendar again. When he finished, he carefully rolled it up and safely tucked it into an empty, thick plastic container from one of his bags.

He stayed silent after putting the calendar back into the bag, safely inside the plastic, realising he had barely noticed himself taking the bag off in the first place to remove the container and store the calendar. After he zipped the bag shut and slung it back over his shoulders, the detective turned around and stepped out of the kitchen, finally heading towards the stairs to the upper levels of the house. The upperlevels, he knew, from the sound of her power armour, Nora had ascended to.

Careful with his steps, even more so on the stairs, Nick paused at the top of the stairs, his face falling when he saw, at the farthest end of the hall, where part of the roof had caved in. Hearing the sounds of movement stop, he took a few seconds to determine where the sounds had been coming from before walking towards the first bedroom off the stairs and to the right. When he opened the door, he saw Nora had stepped out of her power armour to sit down on the bed, curled up into herself in her hazmat suit and quietly sobbing, clutching something to her chest. When she calmed down after a few minutes, still crying but less violently, the lawyer stood up and what she was clutching to her chest was revealed to be a locket which, over her hazmat suit, she wrapped around her neck. Hands shaking badly, she eventually made herself step back into her power armour. It was then it occurred to the aged detective how small she was compared to him, even in her power armour which gave her a good four more inches in height. Why the Institute made us early model synths anywhere from six to seven feet tall baffles me. I'm still a good head taller than her, even in the damn suit. Unsure of what to say, if anything, Nick took a look around the room, only to find himself startled when he realised, pulled out from in the floorboards, was a small, hidden safe, which, he was nearly certain, had been where the locket had been and, still within, laid a frayed and faintly water stained passport.

"She only looks like me," Nora quietly said, her voice breaking when Nick knelt down to pick up and examine the passport. "But that's not me. I might as well have a new name and social security number. She was so much…so much more happy. And, in most ways, had a perfect life. We…I…I had a perfect life, and, now, the home I grew up in is falling apart, on the outskirts of a badly irradiated hell, and I'm the only one of my siblings – our entire family – still alive."

Nick slowly nodded, pocketing her passport. "You might want this back, one day," He said kindly. "I'll store it securely in one of our bags before we leave. If there's…anything else you want to bring back from here, I'm happy to make sure we do."

"I'll…I'll let you know if there's anything else," Nora said shakily. "But I…more than, even more than what I need to bring with…I hope you're right about these 'Children Of Atom' having made a city in Providence, one we can take safe shelter in away from the rads if need be. And…and I hope to God they know something – anything – about Virgil."

"The Children may be an odd bunch but they're nothing if not resilient," Nick calmly told her. "I can't say anything's completely certain, hell no one can, but I'll be damn shocked if they aren't still there. I've been out here a handful of times, and they've always been hospitable and charitable. They have some wacked out beliefs, but they mean well."

"If they can keep me from getting sick and dying out here and can help me find Virgil, I don't care what they believe," Nora shook her head. "I…I have a responsibility as a mother, to Shaun. I have to find him, no matter what it takes. He's already lost one parent and been treated like a fucking living doll for Kellogg…I…I have to get him back."

"And we're going to do everything we can to make sure you do," Nick said, setting one hand to each of her shoulders. "I'm not a parent, never have been and never will be as a synth, but I know the responsibility of being a parent weighs heavy on anyone's shoulders at one point or another. The thing is, in my experience, most of the parents who think they're failing their kids or have failed them aren't. You're one of those parents."

"Hopefully Shaun will feel the same, then," Nora said, her voice breaking as she began crying harder again. "I want – need – him to know the way I love him. The way I've always loved him. I need him to know I don't care what it costs, because he's my son and I am doing everything – have killed, even – to get him back, and to protect him from whatever ends up…whatever we end up with after I get him back."

"He'll know," Nick said, pausing a minute while she tried to calm herself. "You have good intentions, Nora, and I know you love your boy more than life itself but, please, don't turn to anger to fuel finding him. It's a hell of a motivator, but it'll destroy you and your life if you let it."

"If I'm angry, it's because it's justified," Nora said, fury lingering on the periphery of her voice. "And, I'm sorry, Nick, but I'm not you, and I don't have the choice to be compassionate or not about every damn piece of this. I just don't."

Diamond City
November the 10th, 2288
22:18

"The Glowing Sea?" Vadim's face and voice lost all amusement when Piper nodded. "She has guts, but even I'd be scared to go anywhere near there."

Even as a well seasoned bartender and, for that matter, bar patron, Vadim was caught by surprise when Cait all but flopped forward on the bar, wrapping her arms around her head and mumbling to herself. Piper on her left and MacCready on her right, the writer and the former gunner shared a long look, both unsettled and surprised by Cait's mood. Hoping to lighten the mood a little, Vadim tossed Piper a beer and MacCready a whiskey, clapping when they both caught their respective drinks with one hand and high fived each other with their free hand. Cait glanced up briefly to look between them before falling back on the bar again. With a worried shake of his head, Vadim began pouring Cait shots of some of her favourite drinks, and, when he was done, set them down in front of her. He awkwardly pushed her back up and, with a flourish, pulled out a spare blanket from under the counter which he quickly came around from to wrap over her shoulders. The former cage fighter gave him a small smile while he walked back around the bar and began serving a few other customers, though he quickly called over his brother, who did not come, and Scarlett, who did. Promptly and happily taking over for him, and relieved to be able to stop cleaning, the bubbly waitress began working and Vadim, now free, went back over to where Piper, Cait, and MacCready were sat, sitting down across from them behind the bar.

"I don't think I've ever heard of any bloke going into the Glowing Sea and coming back in one piece, or even alive," Cait said, her stomach sinking. "I know she's got every damn protection known to man and is with Nicky, but I still…I don't like it. I don't want her to get killed out there."

"Nick won't let her die," Piper reassured her. "And aren't they convening with a settlement out there, where they can take shelter from the radiation and whatever the fuck else is out there as long as they need? I think they'll be alright, even if they have to be out there a while, because they'll have shelter."

"The people Nicky was talking about are the Children Of Atom!" Cait shuddered. "The same people who tried to execute you, Piper!"

Piper sighed. "It sounds like Nick knows this group of them, and it's going to be working in their favour they aren't known as nosy reporters who go into the sewers for a story."

"The sewers? Really?" MacCready said, looking disgusted at the thought alone. "Yeah, I can't say I'd be particularly eager to go there for any reason. Having grown up in cave…I don't think any of you would have survived having to use the Lamplight restrooms, in part because there was a non zero chance of finding a human skeleton in there."

"You know, the more you talk about where you grew up, the more I'm amazed you're still alive to begin with," Piper gagged. "Call me a priss, but even when Nat and I lived – briefly, with our dad, before he was killed, when I was little and she was a baby – in a small town a little ways out from Quincy, it was no picnic, but we never had to worry about coming across a random human skeleton when having to void our bladder or bowels."

Cait rolled her eyes. "We love you Piper, but you really wouldn't have survived where he's from or in the Combat Zone," She turned to MacCready. "Think the worst thing I ever saw there was when I went back to this lady's room to confront her for trying to grab my tits. It was filled with a couple of dead bodies, shite, piss, and puke. Turned out she was a cannibal. Told Tommy and, thankfully, he kicked her out."

MacCready eyed her strangely. "Cait, the fact it took something that extreme to really truly unsettle you terrifies me."

"Listen, pretty boy," Cait said with a half teasing smile, knocking his hat off his head and onto the bar counter. "You may think you're all tough, having grown up in a cave 'til you ran off with your girlfriend at fifteen, but you ain't got nothing on me."

"If 'not having anything on you' means I didn't come across…" MacCready grimaced, setting down his whiskey. "You want to talk about scary places? Some Brotherhood idiots went through the town in 2278, including through Murder Pass. Guess why it had the name Murder Pass."

Piper snorted. "Because you were raised by homicidal teenagers?"

"Not true!" MacCready said, snapping his fingers with a smirk. "It was called Murder Pass because of the mutants and raiders with heavy weapons living in it. A few of the kids would go down there to kill and steal weapons from them every so often. But, long story short, when I was mayor, two siblings, both at the top of the Brotherhood, calling themselves 'Paladin' and 'Sentinel' showed up at our door with a small army. Told us they needed to conduct an 'investigation' of the Vaults in the region, and forced their way in. Only good thing they did was kill all the super mutants. Left with stuff they probably looted from the Vault and never came back."

"Well, now I know why you don't trust the Brotherhood," Piper sighed when he nodded. "Can't say I'm a big fan of them being here. Lissy really doesn't like it and, really, I can't blame her."

"They do what they want, take whatever they want, and don't care whose toes they step on or who they hurt or who gets hurt in the process," MacCready said, bitterness edging into his voice. "Seeing a patrol of them, shortly after we found what…what was able to get Duncan to recover, gave Annette a panic attack. She hasn't been too eager to discuss what it was like, being under their thumb with pretty much no chances to leave their little 'Citadel,' but what she has said…it's horrific."

"Shite," Cait said, her voice unusually serious. "Those blokes pack some serious firepower. With where they're going, I hope…I hope Nora and Nicky don't have to cross paths with them."

"Nora and Nicky are going southwest, no?" Vadim shrugged when Cait nodded. "I see little Brotherhood out of the area of the old airport. I don't think they'll run into them. Most of the problem people down there are raiders and gunners."

Cait turned to MacCready, paling and look sick to her stomach. "You don't think the gunners –"

"Seeing as I've done everything I can to stay out of the way of those guys to stop them from trying to put a bullet in my back for the last year and a half, how am I supposed to know?" MacCready exclaimed, struggling to mask the anxiety bubbling in his chest. "I have to worry about whether or not they'll show up in Goodneighbour and…shi…shoot," He fell silent. "Come to think of it, they've been oddly quiet around Goodneighbour recently. Haven't seen the two ass – sorry, idiots – who've been after me in nearly four, almost five months. I –"

"They've probably decided you're not worth wasting time and money on trying to fuck up," Piper calmly said, sending him a pointed, sisterly look. "And, if they do come back, I'm sure you can handle them. I doubt Hancock will object to you killing them if they come back and threaten you or hassle anyone else."

"I'm not worried about them coming after me per se, I'm worried for Duncan's sake," MacCready said, his voice a bit uneven. "He's only just…he's only now getting better, and I don't…if he loses me or, God forbid, those – no, I'll say it, those assholes – try to hurt him, or if they manage to, I don't…I don't even know what I'd do."

"Duncan hasn't done anything for them or against them," Piper gently reminded him. "Shit, they may not even know he exists. And, again, Mack. You. Are. A. Fucking. Sharpshooter. If they think you're a pushover or an easy target, then they're out of their minds, and not in the way they already are."

"Listen to her, she's a smart girl," Vadim said, pushing another beer towards Piper. "Free one for being a smarty pants."

Piper grinned. "Hey, you know I try."

"I get why you're worried," Cait said, surprising herself. "Not the same, but, shite, the thought of something happening to Nora out there in hell makes me sick, and not the 'too much drank, too many chems' kind of sick. The kind of real, anxiety –"

"– Inducing sick where you don't know how'd you react or what you'd do to the people who hurt the person you care about," MacCready said, and Cait nodded, looking a little nervous. "Don't tell me, Cait. You've got some feelings towards Nora, feelings going well beyond friendship."

"I…" Cait looked between him and the shots in front of her, taking seven of them in quick succession before, after swallowing hard, catching her breath. "Fuck you, Mackie," She swore under her breath. "Yes," Her voice was almost inaudible. "I don't know when it started or why but…fuck it. I like her a hell of a lot more than she's ready to hear or I'm ready to say to her because what am I supposed to say when she's a brilliant lawyer and I'm an addict with no impulse control?"

"You're more than any of the shit, Cait," Piper said, setting a hand to her close friend's shoulder. "And it's alright."

"I want to…" Cait shook her head, biting down on her hand. "Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck. If she doesn't come back alive, I'm going to take great pleasure in killing the people responsible, mark my words."