The Institute
December the 3rd, 2288
5:53
Sudden, early morning meetings were a rarity for the Institute Directorate yet, for once, they all knew precisely why one had been called.
Ten days of concern. Ten days of suspicion.
Ten days since the disappearance of the head of Institute Advanced Systems and her protégé during what should have been a routine visit home for the young protégé.
Already a somewhat anxious man, seeing the faintest signs of worry in the face of the Director left Dr. Clayton Holdren feeling sick as he sat down, his hands clammy and shaky in his lap while he watched his colleagues come into the Directorate's meeting room. He was far from the only one. Dr. Allison Filmore, partly due to exhaustion from tending to her baby daughter's cold most of the night and partly due to the anxiety of her foster daughter going missing, looked not only distressed but slightly dishevelled. For someone who put a great deal of energy into keeping herself all but perfectly put together, seeing her so visibly worried about anything was unusual. Even the usually content if not upbeat Dr. Alan Binet seemed to be quite troubled by being called to such an early meeting, a million questions racing through his mind. Only Dr. Alana Secord seemed to be the same as ever; calm, methodical, and making no indication of her thoughts in her gait or countenance. It was Dr. Evan Watson, however, who seemed the most ready for the meeting to commence, disquieted by the look on the face of the Director, well aware of how difficult it was to truly unnerve his friend and close colleague and thus startled by the worry in his face. When the doors were finally shut and locked, he took a glance at his friend's father, and the feeling only worsened when he saw Nathaniel, too, seemed as troubled as Shaun.
"Given the state of things, I am sure you all know why you're here," Shaun said, pausing when he briefly looked at the open file in front of him. "As you're all well aware, ten days ago, Dr. Li and Miss Spencer disappeared during one of Miss Spencer's visits home. Our intelligence has finally determined what happened. Unfortunately, it is profoundly unlucky – for them and for us – as well as deeply disturbing. Dr. Secord, if you would."
"Due to a credible identification of a missing third generation synth unit, designation B2-19, on the road about fifteen miles south of University Point, Courser X6-88 briefly left the town to retrieve the unit," Alana said, a bit of annoyance slipping into her voice. "B2-19 was returned and reset and has returned to cleaning duties. However, in this time, Dr. Li and Miss Spencer arrived a few minutes early on the outskirts of University Point for Miss Spencer's visit home. While never a problem before, even when X6-88, since the unit's postage, has been away from University Point when they arrive, Dr. Li and Miss Spencer were ambushed by the Brotherhood Of Steel."
Clayton paled. "Are they…were they killed?"
"No," Alana said shortly. "They were abducted."
Silence.
"How was this allowed to happen?" Evan said sceptically. "Are we certain Dr. Li didn't plan this, given her history with the Brotherhood?"
"We are," Alana frigidly replied. "After careful examination of the circumstances and after managing to get watchers close enough to the Brotherhood's airship, called the Prydwen, to record, we learnt, from a discussion on one of the open air decks between two of the Brotherhood's presumed leaders, they planned to abduct Dr. Li and Miss Spencer. Unfortunately, even knowing this, we can't get anything closer to them than the watchers without risking their lives. If we went in there with Coursers, there's a massive chance the Brotherhood would kill both of them and the Courser."
Evan raised an eyebrow. "What about the Relay? Is there any chance we could use the Relay to safely return them to the Institute since we know their approximate location?"
"The Relay works by knowing the precise location down to the exact coordinate it will either take someone to or retrieve them from," Allie told him. "We could easily miss them if we tried to Relay them back to the Institute, especially considering we still don't know where – either on board their airship or somewhere in their compound at the airport – they're keeping Madison and Jacq."
"Dr. Filmore is correct," Shaun said, looking resigned to the thought. "We also can't risk revealing anything about our capacities the Brotherhood don't already know about. The Relay is, arguably, our biggest secret, and keeping knowledge of it from the Brotherhood is of paramount importance. As for Dr. Li," He sent Evan and Alana a pointed look. "She would never betray the Institute. The Brotherhood have done enough damage to her and her life before this, and she would never do or give anything to them willingly."
Evan nodded. "Of course. I only raised the question to ensure we covered all possibilities."
"Understandable," Nate mildly commented. "Still, Dr. Li is a woman of strong will and character, and to suggest otherwise…well, I certainly wouldn't do so to her face."
"The…that out of the way, there may be a way to get Dr. Li and Miss Spencer back without risking their lives or revealing our capacities, though it does rely on…some of the other groups above ground," Clayton said, uncomfortable with the idea. "Our intelligence has noted a group of people – a gang, really – calling themselves 'the Atom Cats.' They're openly adversarial with the Brotherhood and defended the Warwick farm from the Brotherhood."
Alana considered that. "If we were to leak it to them, through R2-32, say 'a woman and her daughter' were kidnapped by the Brotherhood due to their scientific prowess, we could potentially use them to cause enough of a commotion to allow Dr. Li and Miss Spencer to escape with one or two of them safely escorting them to a safe location, though ideally back to University Point."
"If we have a Courser waiting at the location they decide to take them to, University Point or not, they'll be able to safely use the Relay to return to the Institute without the Brotherhood finding out where they went or how they got there," Allie paused. "I'm not overly fond of having to rely on people above ground with such a sensitive operation. Are you sure we can't get closer to them – safely, of course – with anything other than the watchers?"
"Yes. Anything else would be too risky for us and for them," Alana shook her head. "If it were as easy as sending a Courser in, we wouldn't be having this discussion."
Alan's face fell. "Could we potentially sneak a Courser in, disguised as a high ranking member of the Brotherhood, to escort them out of sight and use the Relay to get them back?"
"I thought of doing that," Alana admitted. "Unfortunately, that wouldn't work either. The Brotherhood keep tabs on every single person who enters or exits their base at the former Boston Logan International Airport. They aren't simple about it either. They use retinal and DNA scans on everyone coming in and out of their facilities, and, even if we could sneak a Courser in, we likely couldn't sneak one out due to the noise and electromagnetic interference the Relay causes. Also, DNA scans are one of the few things even we couldn't fool with or without a Courser. DNA is one of the few things that does not lie, and, as I'm sure Dr. Holdren can attest, cannot lie."
"She's correct," Clayton said, glancing down at his hands. "That's why, before the War, DNA was the gold standard in forensics and, as an example, key to murder convictions."
"It's settled then," Allie said, tiredly running a hand through her hair. "We have R2-32 approach these 'Atom Cats' and manipulate them into getting Madison and Jacq to safe harbour, at which point they can be relayed back to the Institute. Still…what a mess."
"Quite so," Alan said sadly. "This is incredibly disturbing on the part of the Brotherhood. I had thought we had a decent handle on them, especially after learning what fate, by them, befell Dr. Zimmer and S3-47. Apparently not."
"They certainly won't take us by surprise again, after Dr. Li and Miss Spencer are safely back in the Institute," Nate said, a threat on the edge of his voice. "As Dr. Filmore said, I'd prefer not to have to rely on non-Institute agents on the surface, but it seems most prudent to use these 'Atom Cats.' If nothing else, it'll give us better insight into them in the process of freeing Dr. Li and Miss Spencer. They could be useful beyond this, though that remains to be seen."
"If they're willing to threaten and fight the Brotherhood off the Warwick farm with no incentive, they'd probably be willing to do something to help them if asked," Clayton said, nervously wringing his hands in and of each other again. "I try not to think much about what happens up there, it's too upsetting, really, but, given the amount of training I'm sure Brotherhood field operatives go through, the fact a handful of individuals were able to fight them off says a lot about what they're able to do. It might take…longer than any of us would like, but I think it's a pretty safe bet they can get Dr. Li and Jacqueline out safe."
"I won't be putting any projection above a sixty percent chance of success at this endeavour without seeing it," Evan warned him. "This might look optimistic, but the Brotherhood are likely to not provide many opportunities where even an attempt at escape could be made by them, with outside help or without it."
"Then we'll reassess how to bring them safely back to the Institute when and if we reach that point," Shaun said calmly. "Ideally, these 'Atom Cats' will cause sufficient enough of a commotion to give Dr. Li and Miss Spencer the opportunity and time to escape. For now," He turned to Alana. "Shift the priorities of our watchers to the former airport. Report any visual confirmation of either Dr. Li or Miss Spencer immediately and dispatch a Courser to give R2-32 its new orders."
Alana shortly nodded. "Understood."
"Dr. Binet, until Phase Three is completed, keep synth production as close to zero as possible to conserve power. I'm sure Dr. Secord will inform you if she needs Coursers examined ahead of any surface…issues, per usual," Shaun looked to Clayton. "While I understand Bioscience is in the midst of the first round of human cybernetics trials, I am also going to ask you to review the files of Dr. Li and Miss Spencer alongside Dr. Volkert, as they are likely not going to be in the best of health when they return from this ordeal."
"Of course," Clayton said quickly. "I'll get started on that right away."
"Dr. Watson, as you'll remain the acting head of Advanced Systems until Dr. Li returns, you will be overseeing the analysis and testing of the beryllium agitator Dr. Filmore, Dr. Thompson, and Dr. Orman retrieved," Shaun said, his voice lightening considerably. "I'm rather impressed," He said, turning to Allie. "By both how efficiently and cleanly the retrieval and bringing of the agitator to the Institute went. Though I'll await further information from your Division and Advanced Systems, this seems to have put Phase Three on track immensely well."
"I certainly hope it'll remain that way," Allie said with a faint smile. "But for now," She said, her voice darkening. "We have to address this. Phase Three may be critical but this…Madison and Jacq need to be able to not only come home but come home safely. Until then, we'll have to treat this as the priority."
"Yes," Nate said, probing his forehead in exhaustion. "Yes, we must."
Diamond City
December the 9th, 2288
1:01
"So, I tell you, I was crossing a river wearing nothing but a smile when out comes the most dangerous creature, so dangerous it was the most fearsome of sea creatures!" Vadim declared, hopping up onto the counter in front of the bar and posing triumphantly. "The mirelurk!"
"A normal mirelurk? Not even with those razor sharp things on the back? Come on, Vadim, those are two out of ten points of danger tops. Now, if you want to talk about a really deadly mirelurk, why don't I tell you about the mirelurk hunter up near Salem that tore my buddy's pack brahmin to shreds."
Jovial as ever, Vadim jumped down from the counter and began clapping, waving at the man who had spoken to say more. Cait cheered and reached over to smack her palms against his before nearly falling back over the barstool she had been sat on. Nonchalantly sipping her beer next to the former cage fighter, Lissy started laughing, beer in one hand and fidgeting with her glasses with the other. Piper looped an arm around her wife and rested her head on her right shoulder, booing at Yefim for trying to settle people down while trying not to laugh with Lissy. Still trying to win a bet against Vadim, Lana Marie, unlike her sister and her sister's wife, was sat calmly on the floor, legs crossed, and a tray of drinks balanced perfectly on her head while she dealt cards for several patrons trying (and failing) to win at Texas Hold 'Em Poker. Not entirely sure she knew the rules herself, Lana Marie simply kept watch, dealing cards, and keeping the tray from falling off her head, checking the time every so often to see how much longer she had to do so to win the bet. Unsurprisingly the calmest of them all was Travis, who was sat on the Cait's right, only nervously glancing over at Piper and Lissy every so often to make sure they weren't encouraging something they shouldn't have been. Much more animated than him was Scarlett, once again behind the bar with Vadim and relieved to have another few nights off from cleaning and serving duties.
"Alright, I give you the mirelurk hunters. Those are scary and no joke," Vadim pulled out a kitchen rag and began waving it. "I surrender, I surrender. But I have more stories of my own. You want to hear about Scarlett's heroin –"
"Heroism," She amended, her olive skin blushing nearly as red as her name. "I wasn't particularly heroic in rescuing you, Vadim. I barely did anything."
"You kept shooting at the raiders after you got shot in the leg," Lissy reminded her with a shrug. "You also walked pretty much the entire way back to Diamond City. Sure Vadim and Travis were helping keep you from falling over at a couple spots, but you were basically fine. A few bullets to the legs or arms aren't usually a big deal."
"She's talking from experience," Lana Marie almost wistfully remarked. "Emmett learnt to shoot on BB guns and shot her 'by accident' in the knees several times."
"Those weren't real bullets, they don't count," Lissy said with a dismissive wave of her free hand. "Piper knows," She said, affectionately kissing her wife. "You've been shot at a couple of times even in town."
"A few years ago, and no one dares try it anymore," Piper smirked. "If they know what's good for them."
"When did you get shot?" Travis nervously asked. "I don't recall you getting hit when we were rescuing Vadim."
"A few stray bullets scraped my jacket and shoes, but, you're right, no actual hits," Lissy rolled her eyes. "Most of them were when I was a teenager. We were learning how to shoot in school – which was run by the Brotherhood – and things could get messy. Pretty sure most of them were accidents, but there were a few times when we were actually trying to see how many shots it would take to get through someone's boots."
"Sure but I preferred the times we weren't using real weapons. Paintball as an 'aim game' was superior to actual target practise," Lana Marie said, checking the time. "I have to get two more minutes, Vadim, then you owe me three hundred caps."
He awkwardly chuckled. "I am getting nervous. But back to Scarlett!" He said, setting his hands on her shoulders. "This woman was – almost – completely fine after getting shot in the leg after wrapping the little hole up with her scarf and taking some painkiller!"
"Dr. Sun had to remove the bullet," Scarlett said, ducking her head in embarrassment. "He wasn't very happy about the way we handled it on the way back, either."
"He does not know fun," Vadim said, letting her go to dust his hands off and set down the kitchen rag. "I know fun, though. Why else do customers come to this nice bar?"
"To avoid Henry Cooke making an ass of himself at the Taphouse?" Piper half jokingly offered. "He nearly threw me out because I got in an argument with Nelson Latimer. Who cares Nelson's dad is stupid rich? He got all those caps from a tag team robbery in back in '67."
"Wait what?" Travis exclaimed, gaping at her. "How the hell do you know?"
"A Missus Darcy Pembroke," Piper said, taking a folded up photograph out of one of her coat pockets. "I gave her about fifty caps and a couple of bottles of wine – she was sloppy drunk at this point – and she gave me this. Took it from Paul because she was pissed at him and he's too busy fighting with his former best friend Cookie-Cooke to notice it's gone."
Vadim took the photograph from her, his eyes widening when he began to examine it.
"I've seen that warehouse, in Quincy," He let out a long, low whistle. "You've struck gold, Piper!" He said, clapping after he handed the photograph back to her. "You got two very powerful people in one very nasty scheme."
"Marowski's fall as a crime boss happened because of them," Piper said, a bit too cheerful when she took a few shots of Bobrov's Best Moonshine from Vadim. "Pretty sure he spends most of his time sulking in Goodneighbour about his chems not selling for as much as they used to."
Scarlett shuddered. "Please tell me you're not going to publish that."
"I'm not going to publish this?" Piper said, whipping around in her chair and very nearly making her wife fall over, dizzy from being moved with her, in the process. "Are you kidding? Scarlett, this is major news! No one will ever have to take shit from Malcolm Latimer or Henry Cooke again once they know the two of them were two of the three people responsible for the insane Quincy warehouse robbery that sunk the Steven Marowski! It's not like Marowski can do shit to anyone these days, definitely not in Diamond City, but these guys are assholes, Scarlett, and deserve to get knocked down a peg. I'm just bidding my time until the perfect moment to strike them with it comes about. Then, they'll be knocked down peg by peg."
"Or by two, or three," Lissy said a bit too cheerfully. "Not like Paul can be knocked down much further."
Travis frowned. "You know, the more you talk, the less people like you."
Lissy shrugged. "I can't wait to see the look on Cooke's face," She snickered. "Guess he'll learn to not stick his –"
"It's been four minutes, she's well over the last two she needed, so she wins!" Scarlett suddenly burst out, looking at the time, gasping, and, leaning over the bar, down at Lana Marie. "You can take the tray off. And, please, give it to me. I'd like to take those shots."
Vadim chuckled. "I am impressed," He said, rummaging around for a few bags of caps. "I know too few people who can balance much, even less on the head."
"I learnt how to do it because I'd get bored at school," Lana Marie admitted, smiling when he came out from around the bar with the caps. "Started with balancing a pencil on my head, turned to balancing multiple books on my head while walking. Turns out, you can get pretty good at the strangest things if you do them enough."
"Well, it has impressed me lapochka," He said, setting the bags atop her head. "Now," He said, turning back to the rest of the bar. "Who wants to hear another story?"
"As long as Piper won't get any ideas from it," Scarlett said, sending her a dark look. "You only want to knock Latimer and Cooke over because they sided with McDonough kicking you out of his office for telling Geneva to shut up after being passive aggressive to her for months."
"I did, because it's true," Piper muttered. "Geneva's a shallow bitch who plays fake nice to get ahead."
"Well, let me tell everyone the true story of how I won this celebrious establishment from its previous owner!" Vadim declared, returning to pouring drinks behind the counter. "Now, of course, this is the place I put heart into, but my heart goes to our favourite radio host!" He leaned across the counter to kiss Travis' cheek. "If I die, the bar is his."
"Please don't die," Travis gasped. "Don't joke about it either!"
"Alright, no more, death is a sad subject anyways," Vadim let him go to hand him a glass of sparkling water. "I know alcohol is not your favourite," He teasingly whispered. "Have the bubble vodka of virgins."
Travis blushed. "Thanks for keeping my cover," He whispered back.
Vadim winked. "So!" He said, clapping to get the attention of the rest of the bar's patrons. "The previous owner, I did not kill him. You all have heard me joke before, say 'I killed a man for this bar!' but know it is a joke. The real story is much more funny. But he is dead."
"Oh, dear," Scarlett sighed, beginning to mix drinks. "Here we go…"
"The two of us, you see, got so drunk one night," Vadim said, laughing a bit at the memory. "He challenges me to fight a Yao Guai with my bare hands and kill it with no more than a knife. So, we go out, stalk the mutated, freaky grizzlies for hours, camouflaged only in mud and leaves! Slowly, I wait until the mutated freak lies down to sleep, and then I come up on him from his behind, and grab onto his two gigantic globes of shame to –"
"You tore a…" Scarlett gagged. "You killed a…by stabbing and cutting open its ass?"
Vadim grinned. "The bar's previous owner was not so smart," He said, tapping his head. "He said he would grab the mutated freak from the front and stab its mouth shut. I was quicker. Somehow his head came off. I think he was dead before then, might have died of a heart attack but, if you ask me, it was embarrassment at attacking from the stupid direction."
"Think I'd have a heart attack…" Travis hummed to himself, suddenly stopping. "The amount of times I have played that song in the last week," He paused, suddenly feeling embarrassed. "So…maybe I got it stuck in my own head."
"It is a good song," Vadim said, leaning over to elbow Piper. "You can publish the story of how I got the Dugout, too. A fun story, if you will."
"You know what, Vadim?" She said, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "I think I will."
"You better," Vadim said, playfully snapping his fingers in front of her face. "And, I have been asked to say, Scarlett insisted I tell everyone, you needn't worry about being at risk for knowing me. I have cut ties with anyone who might try to kill me over debts."
"I'm still not comfortable with you making light of them kidnapping you," Travis said, taking a moment to sip on his 'virgin bubbled vodka.' "Please don't make me worry about you like that again."
"Really don't," Scarlett said. "Seeing your boyfriend have a panic attack about you trying to help him feel good about himself was not amusing."
"All is over and well now," Vadim assured her, leaning across the counter toward Travis. "You are the first to know everything in my life now. Other than me, of course."
Travis smiled. "Appreciate it. Mine is pretty boring, though, so you've always got a lead on mine."
"You're far from boring," Vadim said with a faint smirk. "But let's keep some things between us, yes?"
"Always," Travis replied, setting down his drink. "Just don't tell me if you kill a man for his bar again."
"You won't have to be told," Vadim laughingly teased. "It'll have been your idea."
Travis shrugged, laughing a bit himself. "Maybe it will. It'll have to depend on the day."
Piper snickered. "The day and what's on the radio, if it's any indication of your mood, that is."
"Careful, Piper," Travis said with a half hearted scowl. "If you ever want an on air interview, then I'd be a little nicer."
"Don't worry, song boy," Piper replied with a tip of her hat. "We'll cross the bridge out there when we get to it."
The Prydwen
December the 15th, 2288
20:02
"I'm sorry to have had to separate you and your protégé, but it had to be done. As you've refused to speak to anyone else, I should think you'd be willing to answer to me, Dr. Li."
Hearing the door into the small room she had been given aboard the Prydwen creak open, Dr. Madison Li narrowed her eyes, glancing up from where she had been standing in front of a small mirror on the door into the equally small bathroom, brushing out her hair. She made no attempt to acknowledge his presence, and instead kept brushing out her still damp hair while doing her best to ignore his reflexion and the fact he was standing no more than a metre behind her. Never thought I'd see the day I missed Lyons being the leader of the Brotherhood. Irritated, she tried to keep her mind busy but found the thoughts and memories flooding back even worse than staying focused on the immediate present. Left alone with two of the only things to do being to sleep or to review her old notes from the Citadel on the computer terminal atop the desk crammed into one corner of the room, more than a little best left forgotten had been dredged back up. The Enclave's attack on Project Purity. James' murder. Janice's murder. Garza's death. Annette's suicide attempt. Realising she had been right about the attack having been preventable had the Brotherhood taken the threat seriously, something which had become all too clear after reviewing the footage. Lyons' half hearted apologies. Being the one to direct Sarah's team from the Citadel to reclaim the purifier, and having to guide her through the activation process after the Enclave had flooded the room with radiation by mistake in their attempts to activate the purifier. Sarah's last transmission. Having to, Annette sitting next to her as the only other person in the room with intimate knowledge on Project Purity, initiate contingency procedures.
"System," Static had cut through the voice of Sentinel Sarah Jeannette Lyons as it came through the transmission. "System is nom…"
Nothing. No static but no noise.
"Lock the doors."
"Dr. Li, what –"
"Lock the doors, Quinlan, lock the doors."
"Is she…did she…"
"Is she dead? I…I don't know, Annie. I don't know."
A lie. The three simple words 'I don't know,' had been a lie and, much as she had little stomach for lying, it had been better than scaring the already fragile twenty one year old who, a year before to the day, had just lost her father in nearly the same location. At the site of Project Purity. At the Jefferson Memorial. Her hands tightening around her hair, Madison closed her eyes, for a few seconds, trying to keep herself calm. Jacqueline was not Annette; she was not as naïve to the world as Annette had been nor had she been long suffering at the hands of the Brotherhood. Yet it felt so similar. Trying not to dwell on the almost maternal drive to protect Jacqueline being the same as it had been to protect Annette, Madison let out a tired sigh when she realised the man in the doorway would not be leaving. Boy, she corrected herself. The reminder only angered her more. He was no more than a few years older than Jacqueline but, in every way, it seemed, nothing like her; where Jacq was a rational and well spoken young woman, he was a forceful and unreasonable young man. He had to be, to have come to the conclusion abduction was a reasonable thing to do, if not to her but then to Jacqueline. Feeling sick at the thought of what Gerald might be going through or doing in, she was sure, panic, she tried not to dwell on it either, reminding herself Jacq would be alright; she was clever, and, just as much, knew when to listen and, she was sure, what she had warned her of shortly before they were separated would be something she more than listened to.
No matter how nice they seem or much they try to make you feel comfortable, don't forget they're Brotherhood. I've never trusted them. Be careful what you tell them.
Jacq could handle herself. She must have had to in order to keep her life together and her father from completely falling apart under the weight of his own anxieties.
As uneasy as it made her, however, she was well aware she would feel better if she were the one ensuring the safety of her most unlikely protégé.
"There's no getting rid of you, is there?" Madison finally turned around and, frowning, sat down at the desk chair when he stepped in and closed the door behind himself. "Don't waste my time. What do you want, Arthur?"
He bristled. "Elder Maxson."
"Oh, spare me. Last time I saw you was nearly ten years ago, you were following Sarah Lyons around like a little puppy while I went through a very special kind of hell," She irritably replied. "Either say what you came here to say or leave me alone. Better yet, leave me alone and let my protégé remain with me again rather than force her to be even more isolated than she already is on this damned airship."
"So much as I respect the care you have for the girl, since the arrival of you and…Jacqueline, yes? Seeing as you've both been completely uncooperative, and knowing she won't cooperate until you do, it seems I have no other choice than to speak to you myself," He said coldly. "I understand all of this must have been quite the shock to you, but I suspect you're well past any initial…negative responses to your circumstances. Proctor Quinlan noted you seem completely ungrateful to the fact you and Jacqueline are now safe from the Institute. I'll say, I'm disappointed."
Madison scoffed. "Who's to say I've ever had contact with this 'Institute?'"
"The now deceased head of the so called 'Synth Retention Bureau,' Dr. Charles Zimmer," Maxson said, faintly amused when she stared at him in disbelief. "We came across him in the Capital Wasteland, as well as one of his 'synths,' and, specifically, the most insidious type of synth. The ones capable of 'passing' as human beings. Now we're clear about who was cavorting with who, I have to ask: why?"
"Are you serious?" Madison said, narrowing her eyes at him. "Please tell me you're kidding. You cannot possibly be that blind."
"You won't answer? Even such a simple question?" Maxson said, waiting for any change in her demeanour. "Then let me make it clear why you're here: you were one of the people responsible for solving the power consumption and distribution problems experienced in the construction of Liberty Prime which, as you know, was destroyed in defeating the Enclave. You and Jacqueline, whom herself, from what we've been able to tell, is quite intelligent, are going to work on reviving Liberty Prime."
"To do what?" Madison rolled her eyes. "Doesn't matter. No thanks."
"Liberty Prime is going to balance things out in the Commonwealth," Maxson curtly informed her. "As you were one of its original –"
"You think Liberty Prime is going to 'balance things out' in the Commonwealth? In favour of who, you?" Madison snapped, standing up, her voice shaking. "If you think," She said, slowly standing to be toe to toe with the much taller man. "For even a second, this is how you'll show the people of the Commonwealth you care about them, then I worry for the sake of your children, being raised to think this is acceptable. Taking me would have been one thing, and don't try and pin any of this nonsense on me, but Jacqueline is only seventeen and has nothing to do with any of this other than the fact she was with me at the time you decided to abduct me. You've made it very clear what you are and what you believe. This being it, I find that troubling."
"Do not bring Karissa or our children into this," Maxson ordered, struggling to keep himself calm. She and the twins are alright. Just a month and a half or so longer, and we'll be able to safely hold them in our arms. "My wife and our children have nothing to do with this."
"The same should have applied to Jacqueline," Madison venomously replied. "I don't care how it makes you feel, the notion alone that Liberty Prime could be used to keep the Commonwealth under the thumb of the Brotherhood is frightening."
"Liberty Prime is the lynchpin of our operation in the Commonwealth and is what will cement our position here," Maxson said, though a bit rattled by her words and the harsh, unrelenting scowl on her face. "You will complete the reconstructive efforts on Liberty Prime with Jacqueline, after which we will consider allowing the both of you to work on whatever projects suit you."
"Do I really have to keep saying it?" Madison said, her voice still sharpish. "No. I won't work on Liberty Prime again, and certainly not under these conditions. I can't do it. I won't."
"Whether you want to or not is immaterial, Dr. Li. You can complain about the circumstances, but this is not a choice," Maxson told her. "You will work on Liberty Prime, you will bring it to completion, and you and your protégé will prove your loyalty to the Brotherhood. Think of someone other than yourself and two or three other people for once, Dr. Li."
Madison snorted. "Make me."
"I will," He said firmly. "If you and Jacqueline do not work on Liberty Prime and bring it through to completion, I will have you shot."
"Back to intimidation and threats I see," Madison glared at him, though her voice wavered when she crossed her arms. "You really are a heartless son of a bitch."
The Commonwealth
December the 24th, 2288
19:47
"You're lucky the Children Of Atom brought you here with some time for me to prepare, otherwise I might have just torn you to shreds. So, tell me, what do you want from me?"
When their two escorts shuffled out of the way, muttering to each other about going to worship outside in Atom's glow whilst awaiting the lawyer and the detective to finish their meeting, Nicholas Julius Valentine and Nora Jacqueline Norwich had expected the man they had come looking for to be an older, bitter, hardened scientist.
They had not anticipated him being a super mutant.
Nora faltered where she stood, anxiety seizing her at the sight of him. Far less bothered, Nick walked over to him, calm as ever, and offered to shake his hand. Surprised at the gesture, from a mechanical synth no less, the man called Virgil shook the detective's hand. He took a look around when he released the detective, surprised to see Nora still lingering halfway behind a corner. She only began to move slowly towards them when Nick gave her a short, reassuring nod, and even slower still when the sounds of her power armour reverberating against the cave walls startled her. When she reached Nick, she nervously looked the man up and down. Man. He was a man, or, at least, man enough to still retain his intellectual capacities. His body was, however, still startling; his limbs engorged by layers of muscle and fat, his head almost too small for his body, his skin a sickly grey green. Glasses. An ill fitting shirt and pants which seemed to do well enough at keeping him warm or, at least, warm enough not to freeze. The way he stared at her made her nervous; critical and forever analysing; friend or foe? Trying to quell the questions and fears swirling in her chest, she swallowed hard and tried to breathe, nervously glancing at Nick. To her surprise, the scientist turned mutant let out a sigh and waved for them to sit down on a beaten up couch before, pulling out his desk chair, sitting down himself and leaning back slightly against the chair and onto his desk.
"You didn't come all the way out here, asking to see 'Dr. Brian Virgil,' for nothing," He said, shifting his gaze curiously to Nick. "What's your designation, unit?"
"Nick Valentine," Nick wryly replied. "Though if you mean what the Institute called me, I think it was N1-33, but I can't be sure. They threw me in the dumpster a long time ago. Probably well before you were born, I'm guessing."
"I'm fifty seven, but, yes, you're most likely correct. Synths of your model – even close to your model – weren't being actively developed by the time I was born. The current programme had already begun, if in its infancy," Virgil shook his head. "But I take it you know enough about that. You're probably the only kind of synth like you. Must have been a failed experiment in Robotics, never my area of expertise, since your brain is probably the only thing Bioscience had a hand in."
"Robotics?" Nora hesitantly pressed. "Bioscience? I understand those are broad categorisations for a number of applied –"
"They are, and those specifically are Divisions within the Institute," Virgil said, taking a few seconds to think. "Along with Synth Retention, Advanced Systems, and Facilities. Each are specialised groups working on various projects. But I don't think the internal politics of the Institute are why you're here."
"They're not," Nora said shortly. "We heard you're from the Institute. And we need to get in."
"You want to get into the Institute?" Virgil dubiously repeated. "Why? How did you even learn I was from there? The Children didn't come up with it on their own."
"A man – Conrad Kellogg – was sent to look for you, in the Glowing Sea," Nora paused when his gaze darkened. "He…I killed him."
"You?" Virgil said, surprised. "You're saying you killed Conrad Roy Kellogg?"
"She did," Nick grimly confirmed. "Saw it with my own two eyes. We'd show you his severed head, but I'm afraid we didn't bring it with us."
Virgil let out a short laugh. "Would have appreciated the memento," He said dryly. "But it's still hard to believe. The man is a killer, and he's very good at what he does. Do you have any idea what the man had done over his hundred some odd years of life? Or even a fraction of what the Institute paid him to do, all off the books, of course? Kellogg was ruthless. There's a reason the Institute used him to do their dirty work for so many years, and that reason was why they put a lot of time, resources, and research into keeping him alive."
"I know enough," Nora said, anger seeping into his voice. "He's the son of a bitch who took my son and handed him over to them for God knows what reason!"
"Damn," Virgil said, a bit hesitantly. "I'm sorry. I had no idea. It wouldn't be the first time. The Institute has taken people from the Commonwealth in the past. I suppose…I can see why you would be angry and want to get in."
"I don't 'want' to get into the Institute," Nora snapped. "I need to get into the Institute."
"Need to or not isn't the point," Virgil flatly told her. "Never mind how difficult getting into the Institute is, and certainly uninvited, even if you were to succeed, it'd almost certainly end in your death soon thereafter. I understand feeling the need to reunite with your child, but your reunion likely wouldn't last very long."
"Maybe," Nora bit off. "But I'm not going to pretend as though I don't know where he is and I'm not going to act as though there's nothing I can do to find him."
"If you're so determined, then a dose of reality might illuminate to you why all of this is a bad idea," Virgil said, struggling to mask his irritation. "First off, do you even know how synths and, rarely, people get in and out of the Institute?"
"They use the 'Molecular Relay,'" Nora said, though the words felt a bit strange. One of the few things the former 'Courser' was forthcoming about after having kept a massive gun pointed at me, Piper, and Nick for far longer than necessary to make a point. She might be the bitchiest person I've ever had the displeasure of meeting. "It's a…teleporter, of sorts. Though I don't imagine that's the scientific term."
"I'm surprised to hear you even know what the Institute calls it," Virgil said, eyeing her critically. "But yes. There is no strictly scientific term for it, presumably the Institute are the only people who have one or, at least, put the effort into developing one. As for what it does, I don't understand all the science behind it, but it works by dematerialising you in one place and rematerialising you in another, down to the precise coordinate you're standing in at the time of use. It's a pretty closely guarded secret, as I'm sure you've deduced."
"Even as a synth, I've got to say, it's an amazing feat of technology," Nick remarked. "Never seen or heard of anything like it. The Institute might throw their unwanted garbage into the Commonwealth to fend for itself, but they're certainly quite the capable group of people."
"Capable is an understatement. Like it or not, the Institute and its Divisions are comprised of some of the best minds the world's ever known, which accounts for a majority of cases of them taking people," Virgil said, standing up to get some water from a small, rickety purifier. "I haven't had a chance to look at the stats on the matter in well over two years, but, since the Institute's founding soon after the War, about seventy two percent of the people they take from above ground – which are in the hundreds each year – are intellectuals and, mostly, scientists. Twenty five percent, since the first synths who are, on the surface, good as human, are infiltrators or replacements of people. Take a guess on the other three percent."
Nora recoiled. "I think we know," She said coldly. "How else did mutants like you get created? I'm guessing some of them were your lab rats?"
Virgil set down the cup of water with a harsh thud. "I'm not justifying the results of the FEV programme, but it was not carried out as unethically as you're implying. The FEV virus was developed in 2068 as an attempt to create an injection which would be able to boost a human immune system beyond normal capacities to be able to promote better wholistic health and reduce susceptibility to radiation poisoning and general disease. Human testing began in the 2110s and 2120s, following successful animal testing from 2096 to 2115."
Nora frowned. "And doing human testing in the first place wasn't unethical?"
"It was, but not in the way you're implying," Virgil said, frustration shaking his voice. "I was made the lead researcher on the FEV programme in 2261, when I was thirty, the FEV being the same virus responsible for my current state. Yes, again, the FEV programme was unethical. I sabotaged all research on my way out for a reason. As for the programme itself, the Institute got test subjects for the FEV experiments, at first, from within our own members. As more experiments failed and a reversal cure was unable to be synthesised, they turned to the surface in the 2130s."
Nick raised an eyebrow. "When you say 'turned to the surface…'"
"The Institute would approach very poor people, and offer them – typically – several thousand caps, as well as material goods they could use, most often in farming or whatever it was they did to sustain themselves," Virgil shook his head. "Then, either one person in a family or two or three people in a town would offer themselves as test subjects for an Institute project meant to prolong the human life span, boost the immune system to promote better health and reduce the impact of radiation and general disease, and make the regeneration of lost tissue quicker."
"That's a good goal," Nora grudgingly conceded. "Doesn't make up for the fact you took advantage of desperate people while living comfortably wherever you were."
"It would have been worthwhile if it had been able to be achieved without mutating a person beyond recognition," Virgil said, coming back around, glass of water in his hands, to sit down at his desk chair. "I certainly wish it had. It would have helped a great deal of people but there's a reason the programme tapered on and off for decades. From the entirety of the programme, about a hundred and fifty people were infected with the FEV, and the experiments done on those infected lasted years to try and synthesise a version which would not mutate people. The reason mutants still exist in decent numbers is due to them reproducing, something we hadn't considered as a possibility when we released them because all other previously known versions of the FEV had also been…sterilising."
Nora snorted. "It all sounds closer to all of you playing Viktor Frankenstein than real science, but I'll give you the part where you half informed people rather than just taking them without some amount of consent."
"The programme should have been stopped after the FEV was able to coalesce with human DNA in the late 2220s," Virgil said gruffly. "Once that was achieved, the Institute were able to create the synths you see today, the ones most people would never be able to tell weren't human like them. When I took over the programme, we were supposed to 'perfect' it to improve our Coursers, but it barely yielded any results. Especially after the 2220s, the FEV programme was both redundant and unethical. I'm not denying that it took advantage of impoverished people in the Commonwealth who wanted to provide for their families or towns, but they did consent to it, however poorly they understood the implications of what the experiments would do. That's why I had refocused the research on synthesising a cure."
"And it seems you got what you deserved," Nora coldly remarked. "Being forced to become the very thing you subjected other people to."
"Whether you want to argue about it or not, agree or disagree with me, the fact is you'll need me to get anywhere near the Institute," Virgil said, matching her tone. "So I suggest you stop being argumentative and focus on what you'll need to know to get into the Institute, which has nothing to do with my former research. Understand?"
Nora nodded after a moment of hesitation, biting back the urge to say something more.
"Now, the Relay was made possible by well over a century of work by Institute scientists and engineers, many of whom originally came from the surface. The reason for developing it was partially related," Virgil waited for her to say something, continuing when she didn't. "Having something like the Relay would make it much easier to remain hidden if we didn't have to have a surface entrance, even one you wouldn't be able to find without being told of it. Are you following?"
"I am," Nora said, a bit suspicious. "Do any of those still exist?"
"To my knowledge, no," Virgil said, taking a long sip of his water before setting it down and leaning back against his desk chair again. "Which, in practicality, means the Relay is the only way in and out of the Institute. You clear? The only one, which means you're going to have to use it."
Nick nodded. "How so?"
"The same way synths get in and out of the Institute," Virgil said. "Now, have you ever seen or heard of an Institute Courser?"
"Courser?" Nora sighed. "Yes, and she wasn't pleasant to be around."
Virgil's eyes narrowed. "I can't tell if you're bullshitting me or not, but I suppose it doesn't matter. Either way, they're another Institute secret because, while they're synths, they're designed for one purpose, don't come out every damn day, and, when they do, few see them because their objective is simple – if an operation goes wrong, a synth goes missing, etc, a Courser is dispatched to hunt down and address the issue by any means necessary. And you are going to have to kill one."
"Just kill one?" Nora pressed. "All I need to do is kill one?"
"Part of what you need to do is kill one," Virgil corrected. "Every Courser has special hardware, hardware giving them a direct connexion to the Relay in the Institute. The hardware in question is embedded in a chip in their heads, and you need that chip, which necessitates your killing one. The chip is another part of what will get you inside."
"Alright," Nora said. "How do I find one?"
"By following the signal of one arriving on the surface. You're going to have to start approximately around the ruins of the CIT, directly above the Institute," Virgil said, turning in his chair to start digging around in his desk. "You'll be able to find and follow a signal of an active Courser because the Relay causes heavy, lingering interference all across the EM spectrum. Getting the chip, however, won't get you in on its own."
Nora bit back the urge to swear. "Then what will?"
"A device capable of hijacking the signal the Institute uses to teleport Coursers and send you instead," Virgil said, turning back around with a large notepad and a pencil and a pen in hand. "Considering I don't want to see you become frequent visitors in and out of here, you're going to stay here a few days while I get together some schematics for such a device for you. Regarding the device, one of the most…interesting things, you could say, is the Relay's carrier signal is on the base, classical music station on most radios because all of the data is on harmonic frequencies. To use it, you're also going to have to get the Courser chip decoded. I don't have an answer for how to do that for you, so you're on your own after I give you a few sets of schematics. The only time I want to see you again is to help me."
"Help you?" Nora said sceptically. "Do what?"
"I was working on a serum to reverse this mutation before I was forced to leave, one I had just about completed," Virgil said sharply. "If you get in there, you're going to go into my old office and bring it to me. Do we understand each other?"
Silence. Nora wrapped her hands over her knees to keep herself from letting them ball into fists.
"Fine," She said through gritted teeth. "But I get those schematics first. If you want your damn serum, you need me."
"I'm all too aware," Virgil irritably replied. "For your own safety, I'm letting the two of you remain here until I finish the schematics, so you can leave as soon as those are ready. It'll also give you a chance to think very carefully about what you're going to do if and when you find a Courser. Killing Kellogg is impressive, I'll give you that much, but a Courser is still much more precise than him because they lack the human lust for blood he had. Something you seem to have too."
"This isn't about bloodlust. I didn't kill him for pleasure," Nora said, anger shaking her voice. "I did it because I need my son back, safe with me, and, if what I've done isn't showing you the way I loved him and his father, then you're good as blind because there is nothing I won't do to get him back. Not now."
Goodneighbour
December the 31st, 2288
23:17
"You know what I'm not looking forward to about the new year being tomorrow?" Duncan said, his eyes widening and laughing while his dad continued to towel dry his hair. "The fact I have to remind people what month it is!"
"And you know what I'm not looking forward to about the new year?" MacCready replied, relenting when he was sure the five year old's hair was dry. "The fact you're going to be six in June!"
Duncan grinned. "Which you said means I get to learn how to shoot things with a real gun!"
"Not quite," MacCready reminded him, though he smiled. "Do you need me to brush out your hair, or can you do it yourself?"
"If you brush and braid it while you tell me a story, I'll go to sleepy sleep right after," Duncan said innocently. "I already brushed my teeth, too, daddy!"
"And also managed to get most of the water and soap out of your hair on your own," MacCready noted, a bit amused when Duncan loosely pulled his hair out to the sides with his fists and stuck out his tongue. "Keep doing that, and you're going to end up looking like me."
"Because you're a mungo?" Duncan giggled. "Guess you're old!"
"Don't remind me I'll be twenty four in a little over…scratch that, just forget it," MacCready said, affectionately ruffling his son's hair while he picked up the brush from his bedside table. "And don't tell me I'd look younger if I shaved. You and I both know that's not true, and the…slightly acidic soap incident that also took off my eyebrows from two years ago doesn't need to be repeated."
"Mine was fine," Duncan shrugged, leaning back stare at his father. "You looked silly. Like after being in too much sun."
"Thank God it was summer, and I could get away with telling people it was a sunburn," MacCready muttered, slowly separating his son's thick, messy hair. Even his hair is healthier now he's no longer sick. "What kind of story do you want me to tell you?"
"Anything," Duncan said before taking a few seconds to think. "What about when you worked with those big gun guys?"
"How about anything else?" MacCready said, reaching for the hairbrush though his hands shook a little. "Those guys…they're not good people, Duncan. I don't like to think about them, and I don't want you to have to think about them either."
"Do they scare you?" Duncan asked, leaning back again to stare at his father, eyes wide. "I didn't think you were scared of anything, daddy."
"Everyone's afraid of something," MacCready sighed when Duncan sat back up and he began to brush out the five year old's hair. "Me? I don't like the dark, I don't like crustaceans, and…yes, Duncan. They scare me. But if it came down to it – and I hope it never will – I would be able to deal with them, to keep you safe. In whatever way was necessary."
"Got it," Duncan said, humming a bit to himself. "You really are good people stuff. Like you said you wanted to be. When you told me you'd 'clean things up and be a better person.'"
"You remember me saying…" MacCready fell silent, surprised when Duncan nodded. "You were barely three at the time."
"I don't know, daddy, I remember a lot of things," Duncan said, turning around to face him. "Like the other day when Hancock said his favourite song is 'guess the chem-thing near to me' or something."
MacCready raised an eyebrow. "I think Hancock and I need to have another talk."
Duncan smiled. "He says kooky things," He said, turning back to let his father continue brushing out his hair. "Daisy taught me that word. Koo. Key. Kooky. It's like silly but it sounds smarter."
"Considering at least half my vocabulary at your age involved at least a handful of swears, I have to say, I'm glad someone is teaching you words I probably wouldn't have thought were real when I was five," MacCready laughed a bit, parting his son's hair to begin braiding it. "I could read decently by the time I was four, but if you asked me to talk like anything other than an angry brat when I was five? Couldn't have done it. Glad to know you care about learning things other than how to fight other kids."
"Why fight when you can do fun things like climbing stuff or talking about funny comics?" Duncan tried to resist the urge to shake his head when his father set down the brush to braid up his hair. "Besides, the only funny thing in fighting is when you get to make the big noises like they do in comics. Or the one kid who bonked another kid on the head with a book. Hancock thought it was funny. Daisy didn't."
"Which would be because Daisy hasn't thrown thousands of caps at who will win whatever fight this week for probably at least a decade like Hancock has," MacCready said, trying focus instead of laugh. "I think I've got a good story for you. It's about the time we tried to perform 'Pyramus and Thisbe' in Little Lamplight…and it didn't really go over too well. Princess – well, that was what she tried to make all of us call her, anyways, even though her real name is Angela – insisted on being Thisbe. Trouble was, none of the boys wanted to have to kiss her."
"She was the one who only got to be mayor for five minutes, right?" Duncan said a bit cheekily. "You punched her in the nose and then you became mayor for six whole years!"
"Would have been seven, but I liked your mother too much to let her go out into the world all by her pretty little self," MacCready said, taking a spare piece of fabric out from rolled up in his jacket. "That's what I get for having fallen in love with a girl a year old than me," He carefully rolled the braid into a loose bun to wrap the fabric roll around and tie it up and off. "Princess wasn't a fan of it."
Duncan giggled. "What was she a fan of?"
"People giving her attention," MacCready said, smiling when Duncan, his hair now brushed, braided, and tied up, turned back around to him. "It didn't matter to me though, only wanted to get into trouble with your mother. I really don't think I can even say how bad I had it for Lucy. First thing we did after leaving was decide to check out the Commonwealth. Spent a few days in Diamond City, drank too much, and then went to Rivet City. But you've heard all that before."
"I know," Duncan said simply. "It's just fun to hear about. Do you think you like her? Like you did mommy?"
MacCready raised an eyebrow. "Who, Princess? Heck no."
"You're silly, daddy," Duncan said, shaking his head. "I mean your special friend."
"Well, I…" MacCready sighed, standing up, sweeping up the brush and setting it back down on the bedside table, and grabbing a blanket from one of the chairs in his son's room while the little boy leaned back into his pillows. "Think we've had enough…stories for tonight? You ready to sleep?"
Duncan yawned. "If it snows, wake me up to see it."
MacCready chuckled. "You know I will."
His father lightly tossing the blanket over him, Duncan grabbed onto it and tugged it up so part of it was under his head on his pillow. Taking a few minutes to make sure his son wasn't pretending to be falling asleep, MacCready leaned on the doorframe into his son's room. He breathed another light sigh when it was clear Duncan was safely and happily asleep. His fingers hesitated over the light switch and, though he felt a little sick flicking it, he turned it off, trying to remind himself Duncan preferred to sleep in the dark. Then there's another thing I'm afraid of. Not just the dark but enclosed, tight spaces whether they're lit or not. Same with the water, probably because swimming has never been my… Hearing the light tapping of heels in the kitchen, MacCready paused again, briefly, before remembering he had left Annette to have a cig (or two or three) on the balcony while he helped Duncan finish getting ready to go to sleep. She looked up, a bit startled when he walked into the kitchen but eased upon seeing him and seeing he was alright, if a bit tired. She came around and dropped her bag on the couch, a half smoked pack of cigarettes falling from her hands and on top of the bag. Extending his hand with a small curtsey, MacCready smiled when she took it, her fingers tightly twining in between his.
"I'll tell you a secret," MacCready said, twirling her into his arms, the skirt of dress flying out. "Every doctor I've ever talked to was worthless," He smiled, kissing her cheek. "Until you."
Annette laughed, resting her hands lightly on his chest. "About Duncan or in general?"
"Doesn't matter," MacCready said, affectionately letting her hair free to cascade down her back and past her knees from its tight bun. "Sorry, but it looked like it was crushing your head," He said, raising an eyebrow when she smiled. "Was it?"
"I'd forgotten when I put it up," Annette replied, briefly taking off her glasses to tease them out of her hair. "Probably too long ago. Has to be done, partly anyways, but I could have done a better job of it."
"For someone who's probably been doing that her entire life, saying you could do better is a surprise to me," MacCready teased, handing her the ribbon back. "How long is this? Nearly as tall as you?"
"Actually, yes," She said, putting her glasses back on before finding the end of the ribbon. "I have a couple cut to be exactly my height. My mother had…always done something similar. The 'measure of courage' as dad always told me. After I realised she didn't cut her hair shorter than her knees, I decided not to either. Ever since, the thought of doing so…it's always seemed like bad luck to me."
"If you'd told me – what, just shy of a year ago? – the sad woman in a sweater and lab coat was secretly a mildly superstitious sweetheart who'd help me cure my son, I probably would've assumed I had way too much to drink," MacCready shook his head before looping his arms around the petite woman again. "I'm glad I took a chance asking you out. Think we can keep this thing going?"
"If you're willing to try, then I am," Annette said, falling silent. "I'm sorry, Bobby. About storming out a few –"
"I get it, but I'm not angry with you anymore. Haven't been since then. We worked it out, Netta, heck still went out two days later," MacCready sighed but then gently cupped her cheeks with his hands. "I shouldn't have yelled at you. If you're still upset about it, you can –"
"I shouldn't have started it," Annette said quietly. "I'm still trying to balance my…I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say, I really don't."
"Then at least know you don't have anything to feel sorry for, certainly not tonight," MacCready hesitated when he felt a few tears silently begin to fall. "Remember what I said about every other doctor I've talked to being worthless? I didn't need them, and neither did Duncan. I needed you."
"I…" Annette shakily threw her arms around him and softly kissed him. "Please don't leave me," She whispered, swaying. "Please."
"Don't worry," MacCready said, brushing her hair away from her eyes. "I won't unless you give me a reason to and, so far? You absolutely haven't and I don't think you will. I…I really hope you won't."