Authors Note: Thanks to those of you who reviewed the first couple of chapters. I realize that the first couple of chapters are mostly dialogue and there is no shooting or fighting. The way I have it planned out, the next couple of chapters will be the same way. Trust me; we will get to the violence, but there is a point to this all this dialogue. Just bear with me. Please enjoy, and keep reviewing.

Amata just sat there. She couldn't believe what she just realized. She had kicked her best friend out of the only place that he had ever called home, and didn't realize how that would make him feel. 'Some friend I am,' she thought. She knew she needed to talk to him. She turned around and wheeled herself to the computer. She had snuck in here to send Mark that message in the first place. Then, she remembered what Mark had said to her: "Don't call me again," he had said, "we're done," he had said. A message wasn't going to suffice. She thought for a few minutes. This was going to require something a bit more…drastic. There were a thousand reasons not to do this, and only one reason to do it. That one reason, however, was all that she needed. She came back to her desk, pulled out some paper, and began to write. A mischievous smile came across her face. "Oh, Mark," she said to herself, "we are far, far from done."

(Hour-and-a-half later)

How do you fit your entire life into a duffel bag? Amata wasn't sure, but apparently she had. She stood there, staring at the vault door, just like a week ago. The only difference was, this time, she was leaving. Avoiding people to get here wasn't an issue. Herself, Mark, and her father were the only people that knew that under her desk was a shortcut to the vault door, and her bedroom had always been close to the office anyways. She had thought about it, and decided that leaving was for the best. She knew that as long as she was down here and that he was always going to be out there, and apparently never coming back, she was not going to be happy. There was no point in staying if she was going to be miserable. She had left two notes in her room. The first was a letter to her father, explaining what she was doing. The other was directions on who was to replace her, and to change the door code. She had no intention of coming back.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and walked over to the door control panel. This was it. Everything she had ever known, she was about to leave behind. Then again, Mark had been forced to do the same thing, and he turned out fine. No matter how long it took, she was going to make him forgive her. Who knows where he would be when the vault finally opened. She couldn't let last week be the last time they saw or spoke to each other. She entered the code, pulled the lever, and waited as the door opened. She looked behind her. No one had heard it, so she proceeded to walk down a tunnel she never dreamed that she would walk down. She finally faced the door that separated her from the outside world. She heard the vault door close behind her. For better or worse, this was her life now. She checked her personal 10 mm pistol that was holstered on her right hip and made sure it was loaded. She then opened the door and walked outside.

(Same time, Citadel)

Mark was sitting on a bench in the Citadel's courtyard, staring up at the night sky. It was twilight, the time of day where there was still some light, but you could see the stars as well. Mark was here because, with the Capital in a relative state of peace, the Brotherhood decided to go out west to try to reconnect with the other chapters, with whom they had been estranged for some time. Mark had been given an offer to join the Brotherhood, but he had politely declined, although he was still given access to the Citadel. He wasn't going to help the Brotherhood with their mission; he had his own reasons for leaving. The courtyard was quiet, and the air was crisp and cool. "Dad," he said still staring at the sky, "I could really use some advice right now. Am I making the right choice?" There was silence. "Nothing? How about some kind of sign?" More silence. He looked at the ground and chuckled. "I think I finally might have gone crazy, actually expecting an answer."

(6:50 PM, Megaton)

Amata stood at the top of the hill that overlooked Megaton. She looked around the town. 'Wow,' she thought, 'true civilization.' The buildings, the people, it was all real. These people, they lived there whole lives out here, and managed to survive, although how the ramshackle buildings were staying upright was a mystery to her, maybe one she could solve in time. She saw the giant bomb in the center of town. Three Dog had reported that Mark had disarmed it, and had been given a home here as a reward. Even though she knew it was inactive, is still seemed weird that people were walking by it like it wasn't even there. 'Ok, enough sightseeing,' she thought. She looked around for any indication of where Mark lived, but found none.

She saw someone with his back to her and tapped him on the shoulder. "Excuse me, could you help me with something?" The man turned around. He was about six feet tall, wearing a white head wrap, an eyepatch over his right eye, a black vest with a red undershirt, and black pants. "Hey there, name's Billy Creel. What can I help you with, miss?" "My name's Amata Almodovar. I was actually hoping if you could tell me where Mark Franklin lives?" He looked at her, noting the vault suit. "You must be from the vault. He lives in that house that's right behind you." "Thank you Billy," she said as she turned to head to his house. "Have a good night, miss," he called out to her.

She walked up to his door. 'So, this is the house of a hero,' she thought. She took a deep breath, fixed her hair as best she could, and knocked on the door. A few moments later, the door opened, and she expected to see Mark. Instead, she saw a Mr. Handy robot. She looked confused. "Uh…is Mark home?" "Ah, Miss Almodovar," the robot said, "I am Wadsworth. Please do come in." She walked in, closed the door, and put her bag down. "Wait, how do you know who I am?" "Master Franklin loaded a photo of you into my memory banks. He also asked me to play a message for you, should you ever visit. Please, sit." She sat down on a faded green couch up against the wall, and the message began to play.

"Amata, this message is for your ears only. If you are listening to this, then two things have happened. The first thing is that the vault is open, and you are trading with the town. I want to give you some information on who you should and should not deal with. First is Sheriff Lucas Simms. He's an older black gentleman, wears a cowboy hat and duster. He's a good man. Don't cause any trouble, and he'll treat you fairly. Next is Colin Moriarty. He owns the saloon. Do not deal with him. I cannot stress that enough. He treats everything like a transaction. He'd probably sell his own mother if he got a good offer. He is a piece of human garbage. Next is Moira Brown. She owns Craterside Supply. It's basically a general store. She's…a bit eccentric, possibly scatterbrained, but she's a good person. She'll give you a fair deal. However, if she asks you to help her with her "experiments," decline immediately. The book I left for you should be more than enough of an explanation as to why.

Um, I guess you saw the bomb. Don't worry, it's inactive. There is this group that worships it that call themselves the "Church of the Children of Atom." They think it's their god or something like that, is probably the best way I can explain it. Don't worry, they're harmless. Uh, Jenny Stahl runs the Brass Lantern, it's a restaurant. Food's not bad. Doc Church is Megaton's physician. He's a bit gruff, but he knows what he's doing." Mark's voice became a bit more serious. "Um, on a more personal note..."

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Mark's message will finish in the next chapter. It's kind of long, so I decided to break it up. Until next time.