A/N: Salutations and welcome, for I have returned! Last chapter was, for me, a watershed moment. There were a lot of things that had been building up for a very, very long time. That being said, there's still a long way to go. It's something I've been trying to balance; the kind of trauma a lot of these characters have been through won't be fixed with one heartfelt conversation, but that doesn't mean they aren't important. You aren't here to read my ramblings, however, you're here for the story. Anyway, leave a review if you're so inclined and, as always, enjoy!

Chapter 91: On the Horizon

"I forgot to tell you", I said as I held the side of a planter Nate and Jackson were fastening to its frame, "that Assaultron was KLEO."

The ex-soldier pulled his attention away from his task to cock an eyebrow at me. "That weird one that ambushed us a few months back?" He rubbed his chest. "When I got a hole put in my chest?"

"Yeah."

Jackson grunted as he finished tightening a nut onto the siding bracket. Apparently, they were testing this new design. When they assembled it, a rubber gasket had been sandwiched between the stud and the bracket. They told me this was in an attempt to improve their water efficiency.

Since I knew nothing about farming or growing plants in general, I didn't have an opinion. They were putting a dozen of the one-meter by four-meter planters together, and since I hadn't been doing anything for the last two days, I decided to help.

"What's special about this Assaultron?" Jackson asked.

Nate retrieved the box wrench from Jackson and finished assembling his side. "She had upgraded AI, apparently. She ran the gun store in Goodneighbor before we came along. Tried to get us to run some equipment out of the industrial district for her. We walked into an ambush and decided to turn back. KLEO's people didn't like that so they ambushed us. Shot me in the back. Then… well-" the ex-soldier stopped and glanced at me.

Not like I'm trying to keep it a secret. I shrugged.

"Damon went back in to get her. She'd already escaped. Blew up their market to cover her tracks." The ex-soldier stepped away from the planter. "Done."

"Ah", Jackson replied as I flipped the large wood and steel box onto its bottom. "So it was some revenge."

"More or less", Nate said. "You already fought an Assaultron in the Institute, right? When you broke into Virgil's lab? Was this harder?"

"With the armored Raider helping her and 50 more chasing me?" I cocked my head at him. "Yeah."

Jackson looked up at me, squinting. "Guess even with planning and good resources in place, it isn't enough to deal with you, huh?"

The statement wasn't the compliment those words would normally convey. It was cold, more of an observation. Not a friendly one, either.

Just because Nate has forgiven me doesn't mean the rest of them will.

"No. They weren't able to implement their plan. We broke out before they had all pieces in place." If they had, the Raider and KLEO wouldn't have engaged late and separately. "I don't know what would have happened if we'd given them more time."

"Are you saying you would have lost?"

It sounded like he was fishing.

And it sounded like he didn't think- or maybe the better word would be he didn't want me to be able to win in that situation.

I shook my head. "No, the fight would have gone differently but that doesn't mean I would have lost. I'm very good at adapting."

"Hmm." The former Institute scientist clasped his hands behind his back. It was a demeanor I remember from him during the week I spent helping put a battle plan together for them. It meant I was in for some interrogating.

Not like we have much else to do. We had just finished putting the last planter together and, unless they had something else for us to do, the rest of the day was meant for R&R.

Nate frowned. "Before we get into this-"

"No", I interrupted. "Let him."

Maybe I was being sentimental, maybe it was my… emotional break the other day, but I think I owe him this much.

"I wasn't gonna say anything to stop him", Nate said, eyebrow cocked and pointing at the planter. "I was gonna say we should move this down to the river so they can get it set up with the others. You're a big boy, I don't need to protect you from him."

Behind my visor, I grinned. "Fair enough."

If I had the use of both arms, I would have done it myself. As it stood, I was trying to use my right as little as possible. Not having facilities to speed up the healing process was aggravating. If I was back in my universe, I would have been up to 100% within a day.

The weight wasn't the issue, but handling something that large with one hand was awkward. So I grabbed one end while Nate hoisted the other.

"So you think you would have been able to get you and Nate out even if they'd had their plan in place", Jackson said.

"I'll always take myself in a fight."

"Does that mean 'yes'?"

We were next to Sturges' shop which meant the easiest path to the beach would be to travel along the river and circle around once we got to the end of the houses. There was enough room between the perimeter wall and the closest house for me to pass through so we shouldn't have a problem guiding the planter through.

It had the added benefit of avoiding the now-constant foot traffic along the road.

"No", I replied.

Jackson looked at me from beside Nate. "Then why would you take yourself in that fight?"

"Because I don't go into a fight believing I'll lose. That isn't how I work."

"If you pick a fight you think you won't win, good luck doing it." Mendez. I remember that from before I was broken off on my own. I think that was after we went through a mission summary for Beta Company.

Aside from a few holdouts, all but two SPARTANs had died during their last mission. It wasn't common for Mendez to have anything but anger in his voice but that time- there'd been something else.

"Then you'll do anything to win a fight?" Jackson asked.

I stepped past a settler who was doing some repair work on the wall. He stood and hurriedly nodded at us.

"Yes." I think I know where this is going… "Sometimes doing that has bad outcomes. I'm aware."

The former Institute scientist's brow furrowed. "You'll have to explain."

"When in the field, you operate on what information you have. Sometimes, your intel is bad. Sometimes, you make the wrong call." I looked over at him. "Bad decisions."

"I don't think this is what you think it is…"

Nate looked at the other man. "You aren't fooling anyone. It's an apology, Jackson."

He looked from me to Nate and back.

I nodded. "It is. I am sorry. It doesn't change what I did, and I don't expect any of you to forgive me." An expectation like that would make the apology meaningless. Besides, like I said, an apology doesn't bring Grant back.

An apology doesn't undo anything I've done.

Jackson's eyes went back and forth between us again. There was something else on his mind.

Before he could say it, we reached the point in our journey where we needed to turn the planter sideways. Nate sped up to get in front and slipped between the back of the house and the perimeter wall.

Once we were past, the former Institute scientist grunted again. "Alright, maybe that was a little transparent. I'm wrestling with this problem and I don't have a solution to it."

"Problem?" I asked.

"Yeah." Jackson nodded. "You- I don't get you. When we came here, you didn't have any concern over what happened. Then you dive head first into that base to get everyone out, and now you're apologizing to me."

That one was easy. "I learned. Killing people is what I do. It wasn't until recently I learned what that means. That's why I say I don't expect you to accept my apology, it doesn't fix what I did." I shrugged again. "There's nothing I can do to fix it. Someone's dead and that's as unfixable as it gets."

Jackson's eyes stayed locked on me as we rounded the corner of the house and started down toward the beach.

"You know", he said, "I'll be honest, I kinda had this thing drawn up in my head. Had this conversation play out a hundred times, anywhere from you being an unremorseful bastard to apologizing, kinda like you did. None of them included the part where you both understood an apology can't solve anything and didn't expect forgiveness. The tirade in my head about how it didn't matter was pretty good. Damn…"

He looked away, down the beach toward where they had the other planters set up. It wasn't ideal to place them between the houses and the perimeter wall. It would add traffic and obstacles. But this isn't a fortress, it's people's homes, and we don't have the luxury of space. It's the only place they could fit them.

A dozen other Minutemen were milling around the already-placed planters, securing them to the ground. There was one more spot open on the near edge of the last row. With it, the five-by-three grid pattern would fill almost all of the space.

"I still don't think I can do it", Jackson said after a moment's pause. "Grant was-" he cut himself off with a sharp intake of breath. "Ah, you don't need me beating a dead horse. I bet Nate's already told you about him." He looked at me, straight through my visor and into my eyes. "You killed him and maybe after more time passes, or I get to know you better, I might be able to forgive you. But I can't. Not right now. No matter what, you still killed him."

"That's fine", I replied. "I understand."

"That being said, thank you. Both for apologizing and understanding why I can't accept it. Not yet."

While I couldn't say I felt good, knowing I did it made me feel better. It's still something I have to do with the rest of the team from the Institute but it felt like something had been lifted from my chest.

"Over here!" one of the Minutemen called, pointing at the last open position. The man was larger, a little taller than Nate, with a clean-shaven face and long, tied-back hair. He was someone I'd seen work with Anna on a few occasions. Why he felt the need to signal to the only available position for a planter was beyond me.

We set it in position and started back toward the north side of the town. I had a few arm exercises to do and it had been a while since I'd eaten anything. Hunger was beginning to gnaw at my stomach.

"They've come a long way", Nate said as we passed between a pair of houses, heading toward the common area. "Can't believe this all started with eight people."

It was certainly impressive.

When we reached the main street, I glanced left. Charlie's planters were still there. He'd gotten rid of the dozen smaller ones. There were four of them now in the same spot despite the massive increase in people and space required. Each of them was flourishing. Three of the four were growing various fruits, the plants standing tall enough to droop over me. Last one was flowers, neatly arranged and immaculately maintained. I'd seen the kid tending to them over the last few days, still too thin, still sickly looking.

But he was holding on. He was doing his best. He'd survived a lot longer than Alex told me he would when I first saw him. It was a lot longer than I assumed he would.

The crowd gave the planters a wide berth. A few were standing in front of the decorative one. Two were kids, staring at the spread of flowers.

With the world around it a post-apocalyptic wasteland, burned to ash, everything else muted and desolate, the arrangement of vibrant, multicolored flowers was, in a word, beautiful.

As melodramatic as it might sound, I couldn't help but think that planter was the perfect representation of what I told Julian back in the cell: what makes the Minutemen different from the Raiders isn't that we have better fighters, it's that we have better people. Even someone like Charlie, fighting to live every day, could make something like that.

Yeah, "beautiful" is the right word.

"Hey", Nate said quietly from beside me. "Come on."

When I tore my eyes away from the planters, I realized people were beginning to stare. Why? Why did they do that? I've been around for three days now; how could they still want to stare at me?

I followed Nate to the common house with Jackson. We got food from what might be considered a staffed kitchen inside, and headed for the house Preston used on the north side of the street. As it turned out, with almost 200 people living on this small island, having privacy like I did the first day I got back with Cass was uncommon.

Preston rated his own house, apparently, and let us use it. The guy was rarely there during the day so it worked well enough. Jackson left to find somewhere else to eat. Nate asked him to come along since I still ate alone, but the former scientist said he had something else to do. While I'm not sure I believed him, I didn't have any investment either way.

Once inside the small, two-bedroom house, Nate settled at the kitchen table, just past the living room, and I headed for the second bedroom that had been turned into a secondary armory.

Yes, Nate had seen my face now and I honestly didn't mind him seeing it. This was habit. It was comfortable. Right now, I needed 'comfortable' because a lot of other things weren't.

Before eating, I unlatched my right pauldron and pulled it off.

My arm was starting to feel better but it still hadn't returned to its full range of motion. My hip and knee were doing better, at least. I started with arm circles. It hurt, but I needed to get the joint warm. It, in addition to my armor, helped keep the swelling down.

As I started eating, my mind drifted back to what it had every opportunity over the last 48 hours: what I wasn't out there dealing with.

Supermutant activity was first, as usual. They'd increased their presence in the city. Apparently, attacks on Goodneighbor and Diamond City had become a common occurrence. With the Brotherhood forced to fight the Raiders' expansion and concern with the Institute's lack of activity (which was still bothering me), it had left many of the settlements to the south to fend for themselves.

Preston and Dez had been working with as many of them as possible, but we didn't have enough people. Many of the smaller settlements in Boston proper had moved to one of the two large towns.

Raiders, at that point, were first on my shitlist. The Supermutants were a close second.

And then there was Goodneighbor itself. Hancock had kept to his word. He'd allowed a dozen of our people to stay and help the town's guard. Li's people had managed to sneak a limited number of weapons and munitions out to them.

The school had also been helping us, pulling the settlements around it together to join the Minutemen. The Brotherhood had slowed its operations to expand its influence in that area. They still didn't want a fight with the Minutemen. How long would that last? They've made it clear: their objective is to pull the Commonwealth into the fold. If I had to guess, it's the Institute. Maxson is concerned the moment they engage us, the Institute will pounce.

It made sense. It's what I would do if I were the Institute. But they're up to something else. Shaun doesn't get to the head of an organization like that without being intelligent and cunning. There are a lot of intelligent people around him, too.

In my opinion, the likely scenario was they'd re-evaluated their battle plan once they were aware I was still in play. They couldn't use what I'd put together for them because I'd know exactly how to take it apart.

So, instead, they're playing it passive. The fact the only information Li has been able to give us is they're ramping up Courser production and pressing her on weapons research meant Shaun was keeping things compartmentalized. When Nate got back, he said they might have a lead on how to get back into the Institute.

We'll need that soon.

The Raiders had slowed their attacks since they captured the support team. They'd come to a stop since we broke out. It was a victory, I suppose.

Even if we won, it didn't feel that way.

I hadn't dreamt of the school since I saw the pile of burning books. I had seen the escape. It played out in different ways every time. Escaping the ambush with Nate and Deacon earlier, uninjured and my shields still active, to rendezvous with the support team and pull them out first. Heading south with the escaping prisoners instead of going after Castle. Separating from the group and engaging the Raiders on my own to buy them time.

Different scenarios played out in my head over and over. I knew what it was doing—what I was doing. I needed a different solution, one that didn't involve losing people.

That was impossible. I knew that was impossible. It was combat in an extremely unfavorable set of circumstances. No matter what I did, unless I decided to take the entire base on alone, people were dying.

As I finished my food and the exercises, I understood why the ODSTs I'd left behind hated me. I understood why every one of them looked like they wanted to fight me on the ride back. I understood why their CO wanted me reprimanded.

But I also understood why that didn't happen.

Latching my pauldron back in place, I slipped my helmet on and picked my plate up.

How many things would be different now, even if I'd joined the SPARTAN program, if I had been willing to face reality before now? What would change if I'd pulled my head out of my ass back when I was with the other Gammas? It wasn't like I was the only one who suffered because of the Covenant. They were all there because they went through the same thing I did. I wasn't unique. Hell, even outside of the Gammas, how many other people went through what I did and-

I took a deep breath and walked toward the door.

Berating myself wouldn't get me anywhere.

Nate had finished his meal, too, and was sitting on the floor, stretching. With how much my body was hurting, it was easy to forget Nate had gone through the wringer, too.

"Was thinking about heading to the Farms tomorrow", he said as I ducked through the door and into the living room. "Check in on how they're doing."

He was in the middle of a hurdler's stretch as he said it. The picture, combined with the strain in his voice, was amusing… for some reason.

"We should bring Cass. She'll want to see Corey and Brenda."

The ex-soldier nodded and switched legs. "Jackson, Jessica, and Trent will want to come too. Corey- the other Corey took a bullet to the shoulder and she's still there."

My eyes wandered to the open door where I could see people walking past. "I don't know how much longer I can sit around here."

"Really?" Nate laughed. "It's only been a few days." He followed my gaze to the door. "The attention bothers you that much, huh?"

"Yeah." I nodded. "I don't know why. Maybe it's because of all that shit the other day. I don't blame anyone for the attention; they don't know. It all just…"

"It feels like you don't deserve it?" Nate asked.

I frowned. Was that right? "Maybe."

"Ah. Well, I don't know about feeling comfortable with that many people staring at me but you deserve the admiration."

What? I looked down at the ex-soldier. He was just picking himself up off the floor. "What do you mean?"

He brushed his hands on his pants and met my gaze. "Remember what I said about you being a good person? Everything you've done since coming here?"

"Yeah…"

"None of this would be here without you. The original group wouldn't have made it to Sanctuary, they wouldn't have started building this place again, the Minutemen wouldn't exist, the Gunners and Forged and who the hell knows what else would still be running around." Nate offered a smile. "You've done a lot of good and people look up to you for that."

It was an echo of my own thoughts, and I knew he was right, but-

… But? He already explained why it doesn't matter if someone else would have done it, and how my advantages don't detract from it.

"I guess. I just don't know."

He nodded. "That's alright. It's complicated and we're only human. Rationality doesn't come natural to us."

"That might be the hardest part", I said, looking back toward the door. "Sometimes it feels like people look at me as if I'm not human."

"Well, Damon, to be fair, humans aren't supposed to be able to do what you do."

Something about his almost sarcastic tone, combined with the obviousness of that statement, struck a chord in my head.

I laughed. "Fair."

"HELLOOOO!" a voice shouted from outside. It was scratchy, but not in the normal way, like someone was a heavy smoker. Closer to what a bad recording or comms with interference sounds like. It came with a heavy drawl.

Nick Valentine…

The Synth appeared in the doorway an instant later, glowing eyes, ridiculous outfit, crooked smile, and all. Ellie followed close behind her partner.

"It's a little late to welcome back the man of the hour but", he removed his wide-brimmed hat with a flourish and bowed his head, "your exploits get crazier by the day."

He might be aggravating at times, both because his mannerisms could be so over the top and he was annoyingly good at digging into my head, but I felt a wash of excitement seeing the two of them again.

"Welcome back", Perkins said, nudging Valentine as she walked by. "The theatrics are unnecessary."

She agrees, I guess.

"I beg to differ, Ellie", the Synth replied as he straightened and set his hat back in place. "Damon puts on a show, I have to make every effort to meet his challenge."

She rolled her eyes at him. "His shows aren't for show."

"Which is why mine-"

The secretary turned away from her charge and to Nate and I. "I'm glad you two are alright. Ignoring Nick, what you two did was amazing. When I heard what the Raiders did, I didn't know what would happen." She looked at me. "When I heard you were going after them, something told me it was all gonna be alright." The tall, slender woman smiled. "I hate to say 'I told you so', but I told you I saw something when we first met. I'm glad you proved me right."

She had. That conversation was so long ago, or it felt so long ago, I'd almost forgotten it. When Nick and Nate had gone to Goodneighbor for the first time, leaving me with Perkins. She'd told me she thought I had a good head on my shoulders. I don't know if she's right yet, but everyone seems to think so.

"You were ahead of the curve", Nate said.

Valentine stepped forward and shrugged. "She usually is. I taught her well."

Perkins shot him a sidelong glance. "I have to say, Nate, from what I hear, you did a fantastic job as well."

"He did", I replied before the ex-soldier could.

Perkins cocked an eyebrow at me but didn't say anything.

Nate shifted beside me. "Okay, I think that's enough of that for me. How are you guys doing?"

"We're doing what we always do", Nick said. "Desdemona asked us to have a conversation with Terry. He was surprisingly cooperative. Said something about not wanting to be tortured to death?" The detective gave me an amused smile.

"Yes, I would have interrogated him. Preston told me to take a few days. I assumed he was going to try something else first."

Nick nodded, still smiling. "He said you told him you were going to hurt him." The smile disappeared. "I can't say I would have blamed you. He told us everything. How they set everything up, who was involved. Unfortunately, it looks like the other one got away. No way of knowing what they know but not much we can do about it now."

Everything? "Do we have actionable information?"

"Some, yeah. We're giving Preston, Dez, Danse, and a few others a summary of our findings tonight up at the Vault. Feel free to stop by. Doubt anyone would object." He threw his hands out to the side, a lopsided smile spreading back across his ragged, rubbery face. "But let's worry about later. For now, I want a story, Tin Man. Start, middle, end, and don't spare the gory details."

Perkins rolled her eyes again.

While a few months ago, I might have been resistant to the idea, I felt no need to keep information to myself—at least, not information concerning the events that took place.

So I told them. I recounted everything from my arrival, the Gauntlet, every 'test' Castle put me through, our revelations while we were there, our escape, and our return.

I told them about how Vince died, about how he tried to protect us. They listened silently, Perkins' eyes glued to me, as I told them about Wendy and Buck. It was almost cathartic to relive the CQC fight with the Raiders.

Even if I'm trying to be better, I can't deny I wouldn't mind another opportunity to do that.

Then I told them about the final test, how hard Nate fought to stay in the ring, the fight against KLEO and the armored Raider, how I captured Castle, and our retreat.

Able's sacrifice.

I could still see his smile.

There was so much blood. He couldn't talk. He had to be in agony. And terrified.

But he still smiled.

"Wow", Perkins said as I finished.

The sun had gone down, all that remained was an orange afterglow slowly fading to night. I could see lights coming on outside, the sounds of activity that persisted throughout the day, quieting.

"That's… I didn't think the Raiders had someone like Castle."

Valentine nodded. "It sure would have been an interesting journey through her head."

"She sounds like someone who became what she was out of necessity." Perkins frowned. "Who knows what could have been different if she wasn't with them?"

Different? "You're saying she was forced to be like that?"

The secretary shook her head. "Not how I'd put it; I'm sure she was predisposed to some degree. From what you told me, she fits several criteria for psychopathy, but not all of them. A smaller woman, not adept at fighting in the Raiders-" Ellie grunted. "I can imagine what they did to her. What made her different was her intelligence. If she were only crazy, that wouldn't have been anything special. Her interest in you was intriguing. I don't think- or I don't know she only wanted you because of your fighting prowess. It's possible she was looking for someone who could understand her, too. Not saying you should feel bad for her", Ellie added quickly.

"Don't worry, I didn't think you were", Nate replied. "What she did went beyond fighting or killing. Whatever happened to her, she was a monster."

Valentine nodded. "No doubt about it. With that being said, how are you two holding up?"

"Hurt but alive." The ex-soldier shrugged. "We'll recover."

"So nothing permanent?"

I glanced at Nate and he grimaced.

"Not exactly", he said, holding up his right hand so they could see the dressing and his missing finger.

"Oh damn. How'd that happen?"

"Castle shot it off after Damon refused to kill the other prisoners." Nate lowered his hand. "Doesn't seem like it'll affect me too much. Other than not being able to double-bird someone."

Perkins offered him an unamused deadpan. "My sincerest condolences."

"Sometimes, it's necessary."

"I'm sure." She turned to look at her partner. "It's about time we head up."

Valentine nodded. "We'll see you in the Vault. Again, it might be late but welcome back. It's good to see you two made it out."

"Thanks", I said. "For everything."

The normally lopsided grin on Valentine's face changed. He smiled a genuine smile.

"Hearing we helped someone is what makes this job worth doing. I'm glad you could take something from what we said."

Ellie nodded her agreement. "It really is. And I'll always be a friend if you want to talk." She looked at Nate. "For both of you."

X

Terry's eyes didn't leave me from the moment I walked in. They were as wide as dinner plates and he shoved himself as far away from me as his restraints would allow. During Valentine and Perkins' debrief, they would occasionally ask the former Raider a question. Without fail, he required at least one more prodding before he'd give an answer. When he did, it was quiet and stammering.

It was the most scared I've ever seen someone be of me. By a long way. And I couldn't say I didn't enjoy it, at least a little. From what the detective duo said, that fear made their interview significantly easier.

Long story short, Terry was just a grunt. All he knew was he was ordered to infiltrate Sanctuary and do what he could to gather information. That order came from Castle. Whether that meant she'd been planning this for a long time, or it happened to work out the way it did, I don't know. Neither did Terry. The only things he did know were the locations of two other settlements they'd infiltrated, one being the Farms. No surprise there.

Desdemona would have them picked up and questioned to see if they could weed out any others. I volunteered to perform the questioning but Preston didn't like the idea. His reasoning was sound: I had much more valuable things to dedicate my time and energy to, and we'd get the same information out of them either way.

Doesn't mean I didn't want to do it myself.

Other than that, we didn't learn anything new. It was both to be expected and disappointing. Castle would have had more intel but I didn't regret turning her head into paste. I was not giving her leverage over me again.

When we left the Vault, it was dark. The hill was almost completely black aside from a few lights illuminating the path back down. Li had to have gotten us a few dozen night vision systems.

"Hey, Damon, Nate", Preston said from behind me. I turned to see the Minuteman leader standing just off of the platform. "We haven't really had anything for the folks we lost and I don't want to get in everyone's way but", he motioned back toward the Vault, "what would you say to having a little something up here? Only a few people, us, Danse, and the folks who were at the base."

A little something?

Nate was standing to Preston's left. He nodded. "I like that." The ex-soldier turned to me. "Can you grab Cass? I'll round up Jackson and the other guys from the Institute."

I nodded.

Preston smiled. "I can ask the kitchen to bring some food up. Ha. Kitchen. Can't believe I get to say that now. Head back up whenever."

"Got it", Nate said.

The two of us walked down the hill in silence. Even though the sky was dark, it wasn't that late. It occurred to me that I didn't know what the date was. Considering the night/day cycles, it must have been sometime in the autumn by this point, but…

"What's the date?" I asked as we reached the bridge.

Nate grunted. "You know, I have no idea." He looked at the device on his wrist. "I could find out, I guess."

Was it really that important? "It isn't a big deal." I shrugged. "I don't even know how long I've been here."

"About 200 years", Nate said.

I huffed. "Only that long? Feels like a lifetime."

"That's for damn sure. Feels like I've been in this nightmare longer than I was in the army."

As we began up the short slope from the bridge, I tried to stay out of the light. I don't know if it was intentional or not but, maybe, if I wasn't in it, people wouldn't notice me.

"You know where Cass is?" Nate asked once we reached the street.

"No." I shrugged. "Dogmeat's probably with her. I'll follow the barking."

Nate shot me a grin before he turned left and headed toward Preston's house. She'd been quiet over the last few days. My best guess was she'd be at her bed. Yes, she was strong but how much could a person take? Her parents, her adopted parents, her adopted brother, and now a friend like Brenda?

My guess was right.

Cass was tucked in the corner beside her bed, sitting against the wall, staring at the opposite side of the room. Her eyes weren't empty and distant like they'd been when I first saw her here. They were red and puffy; she'd been crying.

As had become the norm since we got back, Dogmeat was with her. He was lying beside her, head in Cass's lap. He saw me first. The German Shepherd's tail started swishing gently back and forth but, other than that, he didn't move.

That was my first clue something wasn't right.

A few other settlers were in the house with us. Some were sleeping, another was sitting in bed, reading, and a trio was talking quietly on the far side of the room. When I walked in, the eyes of everyone not asleep shot to me.

Except for Cassandra's.

These ones, apparently, had the sense to leave me alone. In fact, the three who had been talking quietly made their way past me and out the door. The one who was reading kept staring but, other than that, did nothing.

"Cass", I said softly as I stopped beside her.

A breath rattled from her, but she didn't look at me.

"How do you do it?" she asked in a voice even lower than mine. "Everything that's happened to you and you keep going. How?"

Ah. I turned and settled to the ground beside her. "Fear."

Cass blinked, eyes still fixed on the far wall. "What do you mean?"

"Most of my time in the SPARTAN program- well, all of it- I was afraid. I couldn't do anything about what happened to me. I didn't want to face that so I shoved it away by focusing on this", I motioned to myself. "And now I'm afraid I might screw something else up and lose people I care about." I grunted. "I think I spend more time afraid than a healthy person should."

"Yeah, but you can do something about it. All I did was sit around all day while everyone else fought. I can't even get to be afraid I might screw something up. I can't do anything."

I opened my mouth to respond but-

She was right. It wasn't news to me. I know I have more control over the outcome of events like the escape than most people. Or anyone, maybe. The question is whether that means someone else can't be afraid.

"... I think it's still okay to be scared you might do something wrong", I said.

Cassandra looked down at Dogmeat's head and she started stroking it. "What could I have done? My parents- I was a little kid. Then the Supermutants. Julian. Now Brenda. I was there for all of it but I couldn't do a damn thing. I'm- I'm just a dumb little girl."

I was supposed to be bringing her back to the Vault. That seemed unimportant now.

"I was there for Julian and Brenda", I replied, "and I wasn't able to save them."

"You're just saying that." She shook her head. "If you hadn't been there to rescue us, the Supermutants would have eaten us. If you hadn't been there when the Brotherhood took Julian, me and Tommy would have been taken too. If you hadn't gone into the base, a lot more people would have died."

That was… I took a deep breath.

No, she was right again.

"Maybe you didn't get all three of us away from the Brotherhood", Cass continued, "and maybe you didn't get everyone out of the base healthy, but you still did something. I just feel so useless."

Had I thought that conversation the day after we got back would be enough? That was stupid of me. And selfish. And arrogant. A few minutes of talking wasn't enough to help her after everything she's been through. It took me 15 years and a dozen people. She might be stronger than I'd been, but it still isn't easy to deal with that sort of trauma.

So I'd stay there as long as she needed, even if I might not have much to say that could help.

"It isn't fair for me to compare how I feel about this", I said. "You're right. I was able to do something about it."

"I want to get to the point where I can do something too."

Not like I'm much help there, either. "I didn't make me into what I am." I shrugged. "I'm probably not the right person to ask for help."

Her still-red eyes finally turned to me. "You aren't the one who worked to become what you are?"

Okay, maybe that wasn't fair either. "I was but-"

"But what?" she interrupted. "You're gonna write it off as being 'afraid'? You don't think I'm afraid? You don't think I don't go to bed every night thinking about the Raiders that attacked my home? You think I don't wake up every morning thinking about Julian?"

A creak sounded from my right followed by footsteps retreating toward the front door. The woman who had been reading must have left.

"That isn't fair, Damon. It isn't fair for you to write all that off like no one else is afraid."

I swallowed, hard.

Cass's head fell again and she squeezed her eyes shut. "I'm sorry- I know you didn't- I just don't-" Her voice was thick with emotion. "I'm not saying it isn't fair for you to be afraid. I didn't mean that."

"It's alright", I said quietly. "I understand what you meant. You're right." It was my turn to look away toward the far wall. "A lot of people have trauma in their past. Nate was telling me more about his the other day. Maybe I was thinking- hoping other people didn't have it the same way. It's like back in my universe, even if someone hadn't lost anyone directly to the war, they were still affected by it. Afraid of it." I looked back at her. "I wasn't unique there and I'm not here." I don't think adding "I'm sorry" would be right. She wasn't looking for an apology to make her feel better, she wasn't looking for a SPARTAN to protect her, and she wasn't looking for advice to help her understand what was happening.

She was afraid of losing more people who were important to her. Just like me and everyone else.

I think what she was looking for was for a friend to be there for her. And I could do a lot better on that front.

"Like I said the other day, Cass: I'm not going anywhere."

She opened her eyes, still looking down at Dogmeat. Her hand was still on his head. She opened her mouth briefly but whatever she wanted to say didn't come out. Instead, she shook her head before leaning over to rest against my side. Cass let her head fall until it landed on my arm.

We sat there quietly. It felt like the things I'd been concerned with 15 minutes ago were distant noise at that point. A lot like sitting in the woods with Nate the other day; it was just the two of us.

And Dogmeat.

She was right, even if she felt bad about saying it in retrospect. I'd been selfish. I knew Nate and I felt the same way, but I hadn't considered other people would too. Fear drove me to and through the SPARTAN program, yes. That didn't mean other people weren't afraid. That didn't mean other people didn't care or want to help.

Of course, there were some, like Castle and the Raiders, the Codmans, and who knows who else out there who didn't. But the people I've been lucky enough to be around since coming here, and some of the people who found me in my universe, do.

That's something I need to remember and respect. It isn't just me who's impacted by what happens.

"You know I wasn't trying to make you upset, right?" Cassandra asked eventually.

"Yeah, I know." I nodded. "I wasn't upset. You were right. This isn't about me, though. Don't worry about upsetting me."

She pushed herself into a sitting position again. "So, what did you come find me for?"

"Preston wanted to get some people together tonight", I said. "We haven't had a chance to do anything since the escape. We lost people, but we got a lot out too."

Cass wiped her eyes and looked at me. "You gotta admit, what you did was incredible. You went in there and saved a lot of people."

I nodded. "The more I learn, the better I understand that. I don't mind staying here if you don't want to go."

"No", she said, shaking her head. "I think it would be a good idea. Sitting around here more won't help."

Standing, I offered her a hand. "You sure?"

"Yeah." Cass took it and I hoisted her to her feet.

Dogmeat leaped to his and trotted toward the door.

"Guess he was getting tired of this house", Cassandra mused.

Starting after the German Shepherd, I nodded. "I think he likes being outside."

"Have you ever thought about where he came from?"

"Yeah. He was well-trained and cared for. It's possible his previous owner died."

"Huh." The teenager grunted as we exited into the now less crowded street. "That's a sad thought. He was important to someone, and I'm sure he liked whoever they were. Now he's stuck with you." She laughed.

"He likes you", I said.

"Yeah but, let's be honest, you're his favorite. He only sticks around me when there aren't things to do."

"Maybe." I looked down at the large dog walking between us. He was sniffing at the air as we turned to the bridge. "If that's the case, it's the things he does with me that he likes."

Cass laughed again. "Who knows? He's a dog."

True.

We walked in silence after that, the gentle bustle of the now-crowded settlement following us up the hill. Nate was right: it really is incredible how much the place has grown since we first got here. Since we first armored Nate's old house.

The ex-soldier was waiting with a few guards at the gate. The four of them were talking when we approached.

"Sorry", he said quietly, "gotta go. We'll get the chance to finish this up."

The man he was talking to, Owen, nodded. He then nodded to me as I passed.

Nate fell in beside Cass and me. He didn't say anything, only joined in our quiet. I could feel the guards' eyes on my back but that didn't bother me as much as it had recently. I doubt I'm getting more comfortable with it. Right now, it doesn't really matter.

The three of us rode the large platform down into the Vault where the guards were absent. My guess was Preston had invited them to this little get-together. Not the… safe option, but I can understand. Not everything is about whether someone will walk up and shoot you. We have other security measures in place that, even if they fail, will alert us to coming danger.

The ex-soldier steered us down the main hallway's left access door. It had been barricaded every time I'd paid it any attention. They must have cleared the debris away.

Through the door was a large living space, complete with couches, a table, a full kitchen, and doors to, I assume, bedrooms. It must have been where the Vault's staff lived while their subjects were in their tubes.

Inside the room were a dozen people, including the Minutemen who had been standing guard at the Vault's entrance. Preston, Dez, Danse, everyone who had come back unharmed from the infiltration team, Alex, and Julian.

I didn't know what to expect. It wasn't a celebration, that much was clear. When we walked in, the room was quiet. A few people had been talking but fell silent when the door slid open.

"Hey, guys", Preston said and stood from where he'd been sitting on one of the couches. "Cass, Nate, the food's over in the kitchen. Damon", he waved at-

I grinned. It was the same small workbench Alex and Anna had taken from Sturges's workshop… forever ago for me to sit on.

A/N: This was a really interesting chapter to write. The ones after a massive moment always are because, like in real life, perspectives have a way of shifting during those moments. That being said, it's always a conflict between the before and after, something we'll be exploring as we go on. So, like I said last chapter, this is the only one I'll be posting this month. I'm traveling for two weeks so I won't have as much time to work on it as I'd like. Worry not, we will return to our regularly scheduled programming come August. I'll see everyone next time!

Next Chapter: 8/2, A New Mission