Author's Note: It has now been over a year since I first published this story, and I would like to thank each and every one of you for your support. Whether it was a follow, favorite, or just reading for your enjoyment, or any combination thereof, it's been a hell of a ride thus far, and we still have a very long way to go until this story is concluded. I also have ideas for a sequel, once the time comes. Enjoy the chapter, and reviews are welcomed and appreciated.
As they made their way back to the Lucky 38, the three non-robotic beings that were part of their quartet were all experiencing different emotions regarding the situation that they now found themselves in. Cass' emotions cycled between curiosity and amusement, mainly wondering how Mark would react when he got back from wherever the hell he was and was told that he now has a daughter. She wondered if he would be shocked into silence, or, and Cass was kind of hoping for this one, if he would actually pass out from the aforementioned shock.
For Abigail, she was still trying to figure out if this was real, or just some wonderful dream that she was going to wake up from, huddled back in the corner of that building. She squeezed her teddy bear close to her, silently praying that this was real. Finally, Amata, who was still carrying Abigail, was dealing with the most complex combination of emotions of the three. She was feeling the same emotions as when she found out and told Mark about her pregnancy. She was nervous, excited, and scared, and the hormones running through her body were only increasing the severity of those emotions exponentially. She had hoped to work through and get a better handle on how exactly she felt by the time the baby was due to arrive sometime in July.
She figured that eight months would be enough time to sort through everything, but that had been thrown out the window when she made the decision to adopt Abigail; forget eight months, she was a mother now. That meant it was now up to her (and Mark, when he came back from wherever he was) to help Abigail though the trauma of dealing with her parents deaths. The psychological aspect of the vault rebellion had been trying on her and the others, especially dealing with the deaths of everyone the day Mark and his dad escaped. She and Mark had talked, and it had been cathartic for both of them to talk about what happened.
Abigail had yet to tell her how her parents died, and Amata was not going to press her for that information, but based on how scared and jumpy Abigail was, mixed with her own gut feelings, Amata surmised that it was very bad. Hopefully, once they developed a better rapport, the young girl would open up and tell her. Amata decided to talk to Arcade about this. He had been with the Followers for a while, and seemed like a very educated man. He had probably dealt with children at some point, and she hoped he had some advice on how to deal with this.
They came upon the gates to the Strip, and Abigail tensed up when they got close to the Securitrons. Amata felt her tense up and rubbed the girl's back. "It's okay," Amata said softly, "they're not gonna hurt you." Abigail relaxed slightly. Walking into the Strip and into the Lucky 38 had Abigail looking around in wonder, and for a few moments, all of her troubles and pain disappeared. They made their way into the elevator in silence, and after Amata assured Abigail that the noises that the elevator was making were normal, the ride up was peaceful. The elevator finally stopped at the Presidential Suite, and when the door opened, they stepped out. Amata took a few steps in, stopped, and looked at the small girl in her arms. "Welcome home, Abigail," Amata said, smiling at her. Abigail looked around. The surprises, it seemed, would never stop coming today, and she couldn't help but smile.
"This is so cool! You guys seriously live here?" Both Cass and Amata chuckled at the girls enthusiasm. "Yes," Amata said, "we live here, and now so do you, which means that you are going to need your own room." "I get my own room? I've never had my own room before." "Of course you do," Amata said, "everyone needs a space that they can call their own." They headed down the hallway, when Arcade came out of the kitchen, looking at some notes on a clipboard. He looked up at them briefly, then looked back at his notes, and then back at the group, noting the small girl in Amata's arms.
"And who would this be?" Arcade asked, indicating Abigail. Before Amata could speak, Cass did. "She's tha newest member of our merry band a misfits an' weirdoes." Amata slapped Cass lightly on the arm. "Hush, Cass. Arcade, this lovely young lady is Miss Abigail Fields. I, I mean we, that is, Mark and I, sort of, adopted her. Abigail, this is our friend Arcade Gannon. He's a doctor, like Julie." "Hello, Mr. Gannon," Abigail said softly. Arcade smiled. "Such a polite girl. It is very nice to meet you, Abigail. Please feel free to call me Arcade. Mr. Gannon was my father." Abigail nodded. Arcade looked around the hallway. "Where is Mark, by the way? I haven't seen him since yesterday."
Amata and Cass looked at each other for a couple of seconds, and then Amata looked back at Arcade. "We'll talk later, Arcade. I need to get Abigail settled, okay?" Arcade looked at Amata with a raised eyebrow, sensing something was up, but he didn't press at the moment. "Of course. Do you need any help with her?" "Could you go downstairs to the clothing stores and get her some clothes. Get a few different sizes so we can figure out what fits her. Oh, and maybe a wheelchair or some crutches. Her ankle's twisted and she's gonna need a way to get around until it heals." He nodded. "Absolutely. I shall return." Cass joined him, saying that she had better taste in clothing than some old fuddy-duddy doctor.
Amata went to one of the spare bedrooms. She opened the door and turned on the light with her free hand, and then carefully laid Abigail on the bed. They sat in silence for a few moments, each lost in their own thoughts. Amata shook herself out of her stupor. "Okay, Abigail, I think that the first order of business is to get you cleaned up, so I'm gonna get a bath started for you." Abigail furrowed her brow. "A bath?" Amata was confused for a moment, before she realized that the girl had probably never seen a functioning bathtub. "Yes, a bath. It's like going swimming in an extremely small lake, with the added bonus of clean, non-irradiated water. Trust me, it'll get you clean, and it is extremely relaxing." Amata went in the bathroom, and Abigail could hear rushing water. Amata came back in the room and sat on the bed. "Okay, it'll take a few minutes for the tub to fill up. So I was wondering, while we wait, if you would like to ask me any questions. Anything at all." The young girl looked a bit apprehensive as she opened her mouth, but she quickly closed it.
"Abigail, you can ask me any question you want. I promise I won't get upset." "Promise?" "I promise, Abigail. Please, ask." "Why are you helping me? Why me?" That question gave Amata pause, as no immediate answer came to her. She thought for a few moments, and then took one of Abigail's hands in one of her own. "That is a very good question, Abigail, and a very valid one." She took a deep breath, and looked Abigail square in the eyes. "My husband and I, we grew up in a place where the values of the old world were passed down from generation to generation. Chief among those, in my opinion, is that everyone needs someone to care for them, to love them, to be there for them when they need help. You lost that when your parents died. When we found you, and when I looked into your eyes, I could feel the longing in your heart to feel that love again."
"As I look into your eyes now, I see hesitancy, like you think that this is some sort of dream, or that I am going to change my mind. Believe me, Abigail, this is not a dream, and I will never change my mind. When I told you that you would never be alone again, I meant it, with all of my heart." She paused for a moment. "There is a saying, that there will come a time when we must choose between doing what is easy, and doing what is right. The easy thing would have been to walk right by you, and never look back. My husband, he has always done what is right, even if it nearly kills him to do so, and so would I. I believe that adopting you, and giving you a home, is the right thing to do. Raising a child may not be easy, but nothing worth doing in life ever is."
By the time Amata finished speaking, Abigail had a beaming smile on her face, one that Amata could not help but return. "Okay," Amata said, "the bath should be ready now. Come on." About twenty minutes later, Amata carried Abby (they had talked somewhat while Abigail was in the bath, and Amata found out that she preferred to be called Abby, her middle name is Celeste, that she was seven, and that her birthday was May 29th. Abigail had asked where Amata's husband was, but Amata sidestepped the question) back into the room, clad in only a towel. She had been reluctant to get into the tub at first, until Amata proved that the water wasn't radioactive using the Geiger counter on her pip-boy. When they came back out, there was a variety of girls clothing laid out on the bed, with a set of crutches up against the wall. Amata got her dried off, and dressed her in a pair of navy blue sweatpants and a pink short sleeved shirt with a green and yellow flower on it. Amata then put the remainder of the clothing in a dresser, and threw the rags that Abby had been wearing into the trash.
Amata noticed that Abby seemed to be rubbing her eyes. "Are you tired, Abby?" The small girl nodded a couple of time. Amata shut the blinds on the window to keep out the sun, tucked Abby into bed, and gave her the teddy bear to snuggle with. Amata then lightly kissed Abby on the forehead. "Have a good nap, Abby. Call me if you need anything." Amata got up to leave, when Abby asked her a question. "Could you sing to me, Mrs. Franklin? (how she would address Amata also been discussed in the bath. Amata secretly hoped, in time, that she would eventually call her "Mom")" "Sing to you?" Amata asked. Abby looked down at the blanket, frowning. "My mom used to sing to me to help me fall asleep, but if you don't want to, I understand." Amata knew that there was no way she would be able to reject that request.
Amata sat down on the bed, thinking of what she should sing. She smiled when she thought of the perfect song. When she was younger, she had found a holotape in one of the rooms used for storage in the vault when she and Mark were doing some exploring. She loaded the song onto her pip-boy, and she was so enthralled by it that she listened to it incessantly, and she still knew the words by heart. She cleared her throat and began to sing:
"Over in Kilarney, many years ago,
My mother sang a song to me in tones so sweet and low
Just a simple ditty, in her good ol' Irish way,
And I'd give the world if she could sing
That song to me this day
Too-ra-lor-ra-lor-ra, too-ra-lor-ra-li
Too-ra-lor-ra-lor-ra, hush now don't you cry
Too-ra-lor-ra-lor-ra, too-ra-lor-ra-li
Too-ra-lor-ra-lor-ra , that's an Irish lullaby
Oft in dreams I wander to that cot again
I feel her arms a huggin' me
As when she held me then
And I hear her voice a hummin'
To me as in days of yore
When she used to rock me to sleep
Outside her cabin door…"
Unbeknownst to Amata and Abby, Cass and Arcade stood in the doorway listening, having heard Amata's melodious voice carry in the hallway.
"Tor-ra-lor-ra-lor-ral
Tor-ra-lor-ra-li
Tor-ra-lor-ra-lor-ral
Hush now don't you cry
Tor-ra-lor-ra-lor-ral
Tor-ra-lor-ra-li
Tor-ra-lor-ra-lor-ral
That's an Irish lullaby."
Amata watched as Abby's eyes began to droop and eventually close as she came to the end of the song. For a few moments, Amata stared at Abby, watching her chest rise and fall, a contented look on the young girl's face. Amata gave her another kiss on the forehead and whispered softly, "sweet dreams, Abby." She got off the bed and headed towards the door, being startled briefly when she noticed Cass and Arcade in the doorway. Amata put a finger to her lips, indicating to them to be silent. She closed the door quietly and faced them. "How long were you guys standing there?" "Since about halfway through the song, or thereabouts," Arcade replied. "You have a very lovely singing voice, by the way."
Amata blushed and waved it off. "Oh, I'm not that good." "I disagree," Arcade said. "In fact, I believe that your voice could pacify even the most hostile raider." "Yeah, ya got a nice set a pipes on ya," Cass said, lightly slapping Amata on the back. "Thanks for the compliments, guys. Oh, and thanks for getting those clothes and the crutches." "Ah, don't mention it. I'm glad I went down, though. This ol' fossil had picked out some clothes that were as ugly as shit." "Cass, language," Amata said, "there's a kid here now, so you're gonna need to tone down the swearing. In fact, let's go into the kitchen and away from her door."
"C'mon, 'Mata," Cass said as they entered the kitchen, "ya really think that tha kid hasn't heard swearin' before?" "She probably has, but I don't care. You will tone down the swearing in front of my child." She glared at Cass, who looked at Arcade hoping for support, but Arcade wasn't getting in the middle. "Never get between a mama bear and her cub, Cass," he stated matter-of-factly. "Alright, ya win. I'll try not ta swear in front of tha rugrat. Jus' don't expect me ta quit cold turkey." She took a drink out of her flask. "If ya need me, I'll be across the street at Gomorrah. Need to relieve some stress, if ya catch my drift. I don't think they would mind if I swear." With that, Cass left the kitchen, and a few moments later, they heard the elevator door open and close.
"So," Arcade said as they both sat down at the kitchen table, "how did…" he vaguely gestured towards Abby's room, a hint of curiosity in his voice, "you meet Abby?" Amata told him about her meeting with the King, omitting the part where she yelled at him, about talking to Julie about Major Kieran (Arcade knew of Major Kieran and her work, saying he would have suggested the same thing), about finding Abby in the abandoned building, treating her cut, bringing her to the Followers, and her decision to adopt her. Once Amata finished, Arcade was silent for a few moments as he absorbed the information.
"That was a very nice thing that you did for that girl, Amata. Not many people would just adopt an orphan off of the street after knowing her for about an hour or so, much less at all. You and Mark, you two are certainly shaking things up around here. How is Mark reacting to having a daughter? He seems like the kind of guy who would be overjoyed at that prospect." Amata looked out the door that led out to the balcony, not answering Arcade's question. "Amata?" Still no answer. "Amat-" "He doesn't know, Arcade," Amata burst out, interrupting. Arcade was confused. "How does Mark not know? I thought you and Mark adopted her."
"I adopted her, and since Mark is my husband, he is her adoptive father by default, so technically, yes, we adopted her. It doesn't matter. He's going to be fine with it." "And you know that for a fact?" Arcade replied. Amata sighed. "Arcade, did you know that one of Mark's deepest desires is to have a family?" "I did not," Arcade replied. "Growing up, Mark didn't have any brothers or sisters. His dad was his only blood relative. Sure, my dad tried to say that the entire vault was one big happy family, but that was a load of idealistic nonsense. Mark didn't really get along with any of the other kids, besides myself. They weren't mean to him, well, except for the Tunnel Snakes that is. They were just immature assholes. The rest of them were just wary and indifferent. Neither of us really knew why until about five, six months ago." Arcade was curious. "What happened all those months ago?" Arcade asked. Amata turned and looked at him. "A lot of things happened, Arcade, but it's not my story to tell, and honestly, Mark wants to leave the past where it is. I hope you understand."
Arcade nodded. He understood more than most about wanting to leave things in the past. "Believe me, Amata, I understand, more than you can possibly imagine." 'Doubtful,' Amata thought. "So where is Mark, exactly? And Veronica, for that matter. I haven't seen either of them since yesterday. Do you know where they are?" "No," Amata replied simply. It was the truth, but Amata didn't really feel like expanding that statement. "Couldn't you just check your pip-boy to see where he is?" Amata said nothing and continued to look out the window. All of a sudden, it seemed like the entirety of the day's events caught up with her, and she realized just how extremely tired she was. "I'm going to take a nap, Arcade. Come get me if Abby needs anything, please." Amata walked out of the kitchen, leaving a confused Arcade in her wake.
(Hour-and-a-half later, Sierra Madre)
Elijah had explained to the group what needed to be done and where everyone needed to be stationed. Christine was needed at a switching station in Puesta del Sol to reroute the Villa's power to activate the Gala Event to open the casino. This made sense to Mark, as neither Dean nor Dog/God had the computer skills necessary to pull off that part. Mark also wondered briefly about when Elijah discovered that Veronica was with him. Veronica seemed capable about doing that part, so theoretically they could have skipped finding Christine in the first place. Not that he would have wanted to condemn Christine to such a fate in the first place, but still. Then he remembered that Elijah was insane, so logic went out the window.
There was also a station with switches that needed to be pulled in the correct order, located in Salida del Sol South. Elijah suggested that they should use the nightkin for this part, as the switches were likely rusty. There was also a loose wire in Puesta del Sol South that needed to be reconnected. Dean was the candidate for this job, likely as the odd man out. When Elijah explained this part, Dean started to complain, until Mark pointed his pistol at Dean without looking at him. Fortunately for Dean, he understood that to mean shut the hell up, and he did so, forgetting that if he died, everyone else did as well.
Finally, Mark would be needed to trigger the gala event. The switch to do so was located in a bell tower in Salida del Sol North. Veronica wasn't given a specific assignment, but Mark figured that she would either stay with him or Christine, and he was leaning more towards Christine at the moment. Veronica had initially suggested that Mark escort them one at a time, which would attract less attention from the ghost people. Mark agreed that her logic was sound, but he said that he had no intention of staying in this place one second longer than he absolutely had to, so it was decided that they would travel as a group. There was that saying about having strength in numbers, after all.
They brought God to his location first. They had encountered some ghost people along the way, which they were able to put down easily, thanks in large part to God, while not fully used to the brute's body, was nevertheless effective. He also ate some chunks off of the ghost people, which made Mark, and he assumed the others, sick to their stomachs. God explained that this would help keep Dog at bay, which Mark decided was a good thing. Mark also decided that he would starve to death before he ate one of those things.
They then brought Dean to the location where the wire needed to be reconnected. Elijah had stated that the wire needed to be connected at the same time as the gala event was triggered, otherwise it would draw on the power too early and the Gala Event could not start. Even after they had activated a couple of security holograms in the area, Dean still complained. It took some convincing and threats of physical violence before Dean agreed to stay, although they still heard some grumbling as they walked away.
Now they were on their way to the switching station where Christine was needed. They were walking in silence, after taking care of some ghost people ten minutes prior. They had gotten scratched up a bit, and thankfully avoided getting blown up with some type of improvised gas bomb. Mark wasn't exactly sure how they were able to create improvised explosive devices when they didn't seem that intelligent and seemed to have limited motor skills. The spears and bear trap fists he could understand, i.e. taping the knives together, using the hinge on the bear trap. The bombs, however, needed some type of chemical reaction.
Something else that he wasn't really sure of was why the hell Veronica kept looking at him every ten seconds or so. Eventually he couldn't take it anymore and called out for them to stop. Christine looked at him with a raised eyebrow, and Veronica had asked why they stopped. "Why do you keep looking at me?" Mark asked. "What?" "Every ten goddamn seconds, like clockwork, you turn your head and look at me. Why? And don't deny it." "Mark, I'm concerned about you." "Well, you don't need to be. I'm a big boy. I can take care of myself." "Mark, something's going on with you. You wouldn't tell me what Elijah told you and you got all upset at the police station, and you threatened Dean unnecessarily twice. I want to help you, but you need to tell me what's wrong."
Mark scowled. "Like I said, I'm fine. We need to get going. We've stood here too long, and I don't need your psychoanalyzing getting us all killed." "Fine," Veronica said, and the continued on their way. 'God knows how Amata puts up with him when he gets like this,' Veronica thought. She had a hunch that he was upset about being separated from Amata, although from what she could hypothesize, they had been separated before. Something had likely happened back east, because from the way they told it, they had been nigh inseparable since they came to the Mojave.
Months ago, during one of her brief forays back into the bunker, she discovered that the east coast chapter was in town for a visit, which Veronica learned later was an attempt at reconciliation. She didn't have access to any of the official records of the meetings, but she learned that they spoke of an outsider who had joined the Brotherhood unofficially, and had done some amazing things. They never referred to him by name, only calling him the "Lone Wanderer," which apparently was his condition for them mentioning him at all. This "Lone Wanderer" had done such things as single-handedly destroying a massive raider encampment, blowing up an enclave base, and even befriending a super mutant. Hell, he had apparently even helped co-author a book.
Wanting to gather some information for her personal quest, she spoke to some of the east coast brotherhood members. They spoke in reverent tones about the kid, but she could not get a name out of any of them, most likely due to the high regard they held him in. There was one person that she had spoken to that stood out above the rest. What was her name again? Lyons? Yeah, that was it, Sentinel Sarah Lyons, daughter of the Elder of the east coast chapter. She was the one who had spoken of him the highest, swearing that he had done the impossible when all hope had seemed lost. The way she spoke about him, Veronica had the feeling that Sarah harbored some romantic feelings for him.
When asked about this, Sarah had said that had been some moments between them, but there was a woman that he often spoke of (also not spoken of by name), one who was back in the vault that he came from, whom he had spoken about constantly. Whenever he had spoken of her, a big smile would be on his face. She would have liked to pursue something romantic with him, but she realized that his heart belonged to someone else.
Months later, Veronica had met Mark and Amata, two people who had come from a vault on the east coast, and two people who rarely spoke about their past. She realized that she was lucky to have gotten that Mark worked with the Brotherhood out of him. The big surprise was when he revealed that he had Brotherhood holotags. With McNamara wanting to speak to an outsider in private, coupled with the encrypted files on his pip-boy, along with everything else, Veronica had come to one logical conclusion: Mark Franklin was this mysterious "Lone Wanderer." The problem that she had was that all of her evidence was circumstantial, and if she flat out accused him, he would likely deny it, and she had tried to get Amata to talk more about back east but she wasn't talking either. One thing that Veronica had in spades was patience. He'd either tell them, or she'd find irrefutable proof of it. She could wait.
Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. I hope you all have a happy holiday season, no matter what holiday you celebrate, or if you don't celebrate any holidays at all. Until next time, and reviews are always welcomed and appreciated.