A/N: Well, well, well… I missed my posting date. That probably should have been predictable on my part. But that's spilled milk under the bridge. We're back and we'll resume our bi-weekly schedule. I don't want to spend too much time on this author's note so let's get to the story.

Chapter 92: A New Mission

The truck trundled along, bouncing over the uneven road in the same manner I remember from every other military vehicle I'd been in. We were almost to the Farms and it had only taken 20 minutes.

"We'll get them to send one of the trucks over", Preston had said the night before when he heard we were going to visit the survivors we'd left at the farms.

"Seems like a waste", Nate replied. "We can walk."

The Minuteman leader shook his head. "You could walk, but you're still recovering. And they reported they were only using two trucks to run people and supplies. I don't know yet but we might need you tomorrow afternoon for something." He held up a hand. "We aren't sure about anything yet. Haylen has been talking with us almost daily. Sounds like she might have something. We won't know so don't worry about it. Three days isn't enough to get better after what happened to you."

"If it involves the Brotherhood, I'm not sitting out", I said.

"And I wouldn't ask you to. I'm not that dumb. I'm just saying go about your business, but use one of the trucks."

"... Alright", Nate muttered. "As long as this doesn't turn into a regular occurrence. I don't see you pulling those for other people."

Preston smiled. "Are you kidding? I'd love to make it a normal thing. Getting communications up and running has been a big enough life-changer. Can you imagine if we cut our travel time down to minutes instead of hours?"

"It would help security too", Desdemona said. "No more slow-moving targets. We'd have to keep our routes patrolled to make sure we don't get bombed. Or use alternating routes."

As I looked out over the truck's cab at the road ahead of us, I couldn't help but think that wouldn't matter much. A roadside IED would be just as effective against foot traffic as it would be against a truck.

My arm and leg were feeling better. Stiff, but not in pain anymore. Not unless I did something too strenuous with them. A few more days, I'd have full use. It would be another week or two before the injuries were entirely healed but I'd at least be operational again.

Nate's team of scientists turned tacticians and soldiers were with us, along with Alex, Cassandra, and Dogmeat.

Preston had told us reports from the Farms were they'd relocated everyone they could. Most of the injured had been stabilized and moved out. There were only a few cases left.

Brenda, of course, was one of them.

The escape kept playing itself out over and over in my head. I didn't know what I could have done to fix it- I didn't know how she was shot.

There's nothing I can do to change what happened.

While I could keep telling myself that, my brain didn't seem to want to listen. Every time I let my attention drift from our surroundings, I was back on that hill. That might have been the worst part: I hadn't even been there when she was shot. I didn't know how it happened or if there was anything I could have done to stop it.

"I don't like this", Nate called over the thrum of the truck's engine, the constant crunch of its tires across broken pavement, and the wheezes and creaks its suspension made. "Reminds me too much of my time in the Army."

"That's what you're thinking about?" Jessica asked.

"How could I not? I've spent so many hours getting thrown around like this. It feels like I should have my kit strapped on right now."

Granted, he probably wasn't far off. Between the new plate carriers Li's people had managed to sneak us (in very limited numbers), the tac-vest, and his combat rifle, I couldn't imagine, besides a field medical kit and some rations, there was much difference between what he had on and what he was used to.

"We can arrange that", I said back and turned to sit in the truck's bed with the rest of them.

Nate cocked an eyebrow "How?"

I motioned around us. "There's an entire wasteland to scavenge from."

The ex-soldier shot me a bemused grin. "If you wanna do that, be my guest. I'm fine with what I have."

"What I think he's trying to say", Trent interjected, "is he's tired of hearing you complain."

"Trent, bitching is a time-honored tradition in the armed forces. When your people stop complaining, that's when you know you have a problem."

That was something I remembered. Even SPARTANs and, at times, ONI intel officers would gripe. From what I remember, most of it was innocuous. Hell, Fourier and my squad made it a habit of complaining about me to whoever would listen.

"It's one that hasn't died", I said.

"Oh yeah?" Nate grinned again. "The distant, space-faring future has it too?"

"Yeah." I nodded. "It does."

"YES!" He pumped his fist and laughed. "Glad the most important traditions survive."

"Damon, you mind if I ask you something?" Trent said.

"You just did", Jessica shot back.

He rolled his eyes. "Something else."

"Sure", I replied.

"Well, the prevailing theory I heard before we left the Institute is you got here through, in layman's terms, a wormhole. It's similar to our- the Institute's Molecular Relay technology. If you're from a reality where humanity is an advanced civilization, you think they might be able to replicate the phenomenon?"

Replicate it? Why would they want to replicate a wormhole that sent me to a different universe? And how the hell would I know if they could or would even want to?

"I don't know", I said. "If they could, they'd probably have research teams and an FOB here by now."

"FOB? Forward Operating Base?"

I nodded.

"It sounds like whatever sent you hear was an accident, then. One they don't know how to redo."

An accident? Maybe they just don't want to. I cocked my head at the former scientist. "What's your point?"

Trent shrugged. "I don't really have one. I just like theorizing. Occupational hazard."

Ah. I shrugged. "My guess is, if they could do it again, they would. If nothing else", I motioned at myself, "I'm a very expensive asset."

"You're saying they'd want you back because you cost them a lot?" Trent asked.

"And I'm useful."

He looked from me to Nate and back, biting his lip. The question was clear as day.

"I don't know the exact number. From what I do know, my armor's value is on the 'small navy starship' order of magnitude. I don't know how much I cost. Probably something similar."

No one said anything. Once I stopped talking, the only sounds were the ones the truck was making as it made its way toward the Farms.

"So, Damon, when you say "small navy starship", Jessica said slowly, "could you give us a better idea of what that means? How big is that?"

"A frigate… 4-500 meters long. Half to a million metric tons. 100-400 person crew. Ship-scale Magnetic Accelerator Cannon. Missile pods, 250-500 missiles, point defense cannons."

More silence. I couldn't help the grin that crept across my face.

"That's one of the small ones. The ship I was stationed on before this, the UNSC Infinity, is five kilometers long with a crew of 15000."

They all started looking at each other. The 'Are you hearing this too' expressions were all too obvious.

Nate closed his eyes for a moment and rubbed his face. "Hold on- so- let's back up so my brain doesn't break. The small one, the frigates. Your armor costs about as much as one of those?"

I nodded. "More or less."

"And you cost about the same?"

"I think."

"So what you're telling me is I've been walking around Boston for the last five months with the equivalent of two spaceships?"

That comparison made me smile again. "Pretty much."

Another brief quiet. I had to wonder what they were thinking of. None of them had any context for what a UNSC military vessel is. Nate would be the closest with a, for him, modern military watercraft. It still fell far short of what humanity would develop half a millennium later.

"Fuck me…" Jackson finally muttered. "A supersoldier from an advanced humanity that costs as much as a pre-war naval fleet. That explains why you're such a pain in the ass to kill."

Trent, Nate, and Alex laughed.

"Damon", Jessica said, "I- I don't know if it's right to ask you why you cost so much but why is that armor so expensive?"

"I don't know exactly what they did to me so I couldn't answer if you asked. As for the armor", I looked down at myself, "that's complicated. The two most costly parts are the shields, which starships didn't even have when it was first developed, and the micro fusion reactor."

"The micro fusion reactor?" every former Institute scientist echoed simultaneously.

"Yeah. I don't know how it works, just that it has a theoretically infinite operational life and is powerful enough to run my armor's systems five times over."

"… I want to visit this alternate reality", Isaiah said.

"Same", Trent replied.

The truck turned off the paved road and started down a dirt one. We were getting close. The others continued talking the rest of the way. I wouldn't say the mood was good, but they didn't seem as wound up as they'd been on the way back to Sanctuary that first night.

That goes for me, too. A few days' rest can do a lot, even for something like surviving the Raider's base.

But, as our transportation emerged into fields surrounding the Farms, my mind drifted back to Brenda.

How long would she be unconscious? What kind of brain injury did she have? How bad was it? If there was internal bleeding, she'd likely be dead by now so at least it wasn't that. Would there be lingering issues?

So many questions and I didn't have answers to any of them.

A minute later, the truck crept to a stop inside the Farms' perimeter. When we dropped from the back, we were greeted by a half-dozen Minutemen, including, of course, Jake and Abraham. Abigail was there too. They all looked tired, no doubt from the effort it's taken to get almost 200 people situated.

"Welcome back", Abraham said. He sounded at least as tired as he looked. "Preston was sayin' ya wanted to see some folks?"

Nate nodded. "Yeah. We don't want to be in your way."

"Ah, yeah, that's appreciated. Been a long few days since y'all came back." He looked at his eldest son. "Hopin' the black eye you gave to the Raiders'll keep 'em off folks' backs for a while."

Me too.

"You all need anything?" Abigail asked.

The ex-soldier shook his head. "No ma'am-

"Abigail's fine."

"No, Abigail."

She gave him a tired smile. "Glad to hear it. Holler if something comes up."

The two older Finches and their escorts left. Jake lingered behind, which was unsurprising. He wasn't far whenever I was around.

"How many are still in there?" Nate asked, nodding at the relatively large building tucked beneath the elevated roadway.

Jake turned and motioned for us to follow. "14. Most of 'em'll be around for a little while. The folks we got are doin' their best but, well, not like we're the Institute."

I caught Jackson and Trent exchanging a glance as he said that.

"We- uh- we might be able to get some help", Jackson offered.

Jake looked in his direction. "What kind?"

"Supplies, we might be able to see about a trained doctor."

The younger man frowned as we reached the building. "Where are you pulling one of those from?"

That's right, they don't know. Not many people do. How would they feel about us being involved with the Institute or, at least, a portion of it?

"We don't know what we can do yet", Nate interjected. "We'll have to ask first."

Jake turned to Nate, his eyes narrowed. "Mr. Nate, I'll be honest, I don't know you much, but you're here with Damon and that's as good an endorsement as any. That being said, I know when someone's trying to deflect. It might not be my place to pry, I get that. Just don't try keeping us in the dark if we know you're doing it."

That was terrible. Nate wasn't usually that obvious.

"You can trust them", I said. "They might have someone who can help. Where from is a sensitive subject, don't take it personally." I glanced at Nate. "No one here thinks you aren't smart enough to see that deflection."

The ex-soldier nodded.

"Alright." Jake started for the door. "I just don't like being lied to."

Technically, he didn't lie. But that was beside the point.

Inside, the large building was almost empty. They'd done a good job getting the survivors treated and out. The injured were still in beds arranged in two rows near the far wall. Most were awake, 3 had IV drips, and another 15 or so people were milling around them.

Brenda was on the right side, tucked against a wall.

"Everyone did a great job putting people back on their feet", Jake said. "Getting everyone out and to other settlements was hard, though."

I barely heard him. Not that I meant Jake any disrespect, but Brenda was my only concern.

My feet started carrying me toward her before I made the conscious decision to move. Corey was sitting beside her, book in hand. I could hear him reading aloud.

He turned to the next page, took a deep breath, and started reading again.

It wasn't until I neared them the young man looked up to see me.

"Damon", he said, interrupting his own narration. Corey almost jumped to his feet.

Cass and Alex were the only ones with me. Nate had gone with the remaining Institute scientists to visit their own injured member. That was… understandable, even if the thought was sour.

"I didn't mean to interrupt," I replied, holding out my hand and motioning for him to sit back down.

Corey looked at the book in his hand and frowned. "No, it's- I don't even know if she can hear me but she's always-"

"Liked books", I finished. I pulled the copy of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz from the pouch on my leg. I'd managed to read some of it during my ample downtime over the past few days. It wasn't… the type of book I'd normally read but I owed Brenda more than enough to. "She gave this to me when we were at the school."

His eyes drifted from my visor to the book and back before he nodded and slumped back into the chair. He looked exhausted.

Alex walked around me and sat on the foot of Brenda's bed. "Corey, you need to sleep."

"I have been", he protested.

She frowned. "No, sitting in that chair and watching the inside of your eyelids isn't sleeping." The older woman looked at Brenda. Her head was still wrapped in gauze.

Cass stepped up to the near side of the bed and settled to her knees. Her eyes were glassy.

Putting the book back in its place, I took in her condition again. She had an IV drip in her left arm, a relatively new saline bag feeding it. I don't know where they would have gotten those but at least they can give her that level of care.

"Hey, Damon?" Cassandra asked quietly.

"Yeah."

"Would they really be able to get a doctor here?"

Moving a person would be much harder than moving supplies. This is one of the reasons they so rarely pull Synths out.

… And as much as this hurts personally, I don't know if the risk is… worth it.

No, to hell with that. I can't keep- I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I can't keep doing this, losing people close to me because it's hard to keep them safe. "Too much risk" is an unacceptable excuse. Find a way to make it worth it or find a way to minimize the risk. I owe them- no, I owe myself that much.

"We'll figure it out", I said.

Corey's eyes shot up to me. "A doctor?"

"To help treat the wounded." I nodded. How would we get a doctor and supplies? It wouldn't be just for Brenda. She wouldn't need a full-time doctor.

General care and training. We don't have enough experienced physicians. Blake and Susan are the only ones I'm familiar with.

"And train other people."

Corey almost jumped out of his chair again.

"I'll learn!" he shouted. The instant he did, his face reddened and he looked around the large building sheepishly. "Sorry."

"That's gonna take some convincing…" Alex said slowly. Her gaze was still on Brenda.

"We need it. We have food, we have infrastructure, we have weapons, we have fighters. We need doctors."

Alex finally turned back to me. "You're gonna convince Desdemona to take that chance?"

"We'll see." I shrugged. "This isn't the last time people will be hurt."

She frowned. "Yeah, I know."

Footsteps came from behind us. They had the cadence of a well-timed march. Nate.

When I looked back at him, he was alone.

But I did notice several of the building's other occupants were watching me.

The ex-soldier stopped beside me, eyes on Brenda. He didn't ask "How is she?" That was a pointless question. Other than "alive and breathing", none of us would know.

It would be nice to know.

"How's…"

"Corey?" Nate asked. "She'll be alright, eventually. Shoulder will need surgery to repair correctly. At least that's what she says."

I nodded. "We were talking about how to get a doctor from Li's team."

"Yeah, I was thinking about that too. Our best bet will be a-" he froze with his mouth open.

That's right… Corey doesn't know we're working with people in the Institute. A Synth would be a good idea. I don't know how much you can put in their heads but they could be given the specific knowledge we need.

"I get it", I said.

Nate closed his mouth and grimaced. "How long that'll take…" He walked around the bed and stood beside where Alex was sitting.

"Hey, Brenda", he whispered. "You know, I was just thinking about that time in Diamond City. I- I don't really know why but man! You have one hell of a Poker face." He swallowed hard and paused. His voice was almost choking with emotion by the end. His eyes weren't wet like Cassandra's but I could imagine it wasn't far away.

Mine drifted back down to her.

"We're here", Nate continued and knelt beside her, careful to not get between Corey and the bed. "And we're gonna do everything we can to get you through this."

My jaw tightened and the lump that had been bobbing in my throat grew.

Whatever I have to do, we need to get someone from the Institute to help us. Maybe… could we find a way to contact Mack and Curie? How quickly could they get back from the Capital Wasteland if we could?

The next few minutes passed quietly. Conversation was drifting from other people but the five of us were silent.

Eventually, I started feeling the eyes on my back.

Always eyes on me now, wherever I go. That wasn't unusual before, considering what I look like, but now it's different.

And I still couldn't stand it.

I circled the bed so I could stand with my back to the wall.

People were still watching. There were more people in the building now than there had been earlier. Most of them tried to make it look like they weren't watching but they weren't fooling anyone.

Can't they just give me some goddamn privacy? I'm not here for them, I'm here for Brenda.

Nate looked up from the bed at me, then at the rest of the room.

He let out a long breath and shook his head. "Corey, you look like you're about to pass out. If you want to take a break, we'll stay with her."

"Don't argue", Alex interjected before he could say anything. "She's made it this long, she's strong. Nothing bad's gonna happen if you take some time to rest." She fixed him in a glare I'd only seen reserved for me to this point. "And you know Brenda would be jumping down your throat if she knew you were doing this to yourself."

Corey frowned.

"Damon", Nate said, "can you find him somewhere to get some shuteye? Jake said he'd be at his family's shack with his folks. I'm sure they'll be able to get him a bed."

"Yeah." I nodded toward the door. "Come on."

His eyes shot back to Brenda.

"Alex is right", I continued. "At this point, any traumatic brain injury that would have resulted in death would have done it by now."

Alex cocked an eyebrow at me. It might not have been the most tactful way to put it but, for the most part, it was the truth.

"... Alright", Corey said after a few more seconds' hesitation.

He stood from the chair-

And almost collapsed. Corey grabbed the back of the chair to keep himself upright.

"Have you been sitting there since we left?" Nate asked.

"No- just-" he paused, mouth open. "Since yesterday afternoon."

The ex-soldier watched the younger man shake his legs out for a few, quiet seconds before nodding. "I know it isn't the same but my best friend got hit by an RPG. The only times I left the side of his bed were to get food or use the bathroom. You should probably do that before hitting the sack."

Corey looked at him, a confused frown on his face. "RPG?"

"Rocket-propelled grenade", Nate answered before waving toward the door. "Go, we'll keep her company."

I stepped away from the wall and put a hand on Corey's shoulder. "Come on."

His eyes lingered on Brenda for another heartbeat before slowly turning toward the exit. Even then, he took a glance back every few steps.

People were still looking at me. More were coming into the building. I doubt they had any real reason to be there.

"Why'd she give you that book?" he asked once we were outside, the late-morning sun nearing its peak in a cloudy sky. Settlers were milling around the town.

The town. Four months ago this was one shack tucked under the freeway. Now, it's probably the third-largest settlement in Boston. It wasn't built like a normal town. Yes, there were houses and what looked like stores and common areas, but they were arranged in a large circle, with the center filled with even more buildings.

"She wanted me to know she still trusted me", I said as we started toward the Finches' house, on the far side of the town. Eyes were on me from everywhere. Maybe I wasn't trapped in the building with those stares anymore, but it wasn't much better out here…

Corey looked at me. "Did you think she didn't trust you? Why would she not trust you?"

"Because I-" How did I say that? It wasn't that I was afraid he wouldn't understand. I'm not sure how I'd put it into words.

Start from the top, I guess.

"Brenda had to kill a Raider when we were in Boston. It hit her hard. She didn't understand what kind of person could do that on a regular basis and not be affected by it."

"Oh…" Corey mumbled. "So she didn't trust you because she thought you were…"

"A monster", I finished for him. "That's how I think of it, anyway."

Corey shook his head vigorously. "No- I don't- Brenda looks up to you. I don't think she thinks you're a monster. Sorry I just- I don't really even know what you do so, I can't say for sure."

"I'm not saying Brenda thinks I'm a monster", I replied. "Only that someone who does what I have the way I have is."

A large group of armed Minutemen passed through the middle of the town. All of them watched me as they went by

The shorter man frowned again. "That doesn't make sense. How would she think that about someone who has done the same thing as you but not you?"

That was a good question. How could she or I separate myself from the things I've done over the last seven or eight years? Nate said something to that effect the other day but I'm not sure what the answer is.

"I don't know", I finally said as we exited the large ring of buildings. "But a lot of people seem to think it's doable. I'm still figuring that one out." I looked down at Corey. "What about you? How are you?"

He bit his lower lip and grunted. "You know, I know I wouldn't have been all that useful down in the base but I- it felt useless to be up there with the others watching what was going on. We spent most of that week doing pretty much nothing. They had scopes powerful enough to sorta see details, and we got calls from Deacon and Jackson a couple times a day." He glanced back toward where the large building was. "It doesn't feel fair that I was never in any real danger while all that was going on."

Yeah, I can understand that. Unfortunately, 'fair' doesn't have a place in most situations like that. "The cover you all provided while we were making our exit kept a lot of people alive." That sounded so… lame. "But I understand. It's hard to watch when things are out of your control."

Corey nodded. "I can't believe I'm saying this to you but- part of me is relieved I wasn't in the base. The thought was terrifying."

"I can understand that too."

"You can?!" he asked.

When I looked over at him, his eyes were wide with surprise.

"You volunteered to go down in the base yourself!"

"I never thought about it." That's what I said when Nate asked if I knew I'd come out alive.

I nodded. "It doesn't make me courageous if that's what you're implying. It's a lot easier to make that decision when you're in my position. Both what I am and-" I frowned. "And what my life has been. I didn't think about the consequences. I generally don't, not for myself. There was an objective and I had a course of action. To me, and to the people who trained me, my life is a resource." I shrugged. "Doesn't make me courageous."

The Finches' shack drew into view past one of the freeway's supports.

"Why are you telling me all this?" Corey asked, voice low.

"Why not? It isn't a secret. You asked why Brenda gave me this book", I pat the pouch it was resting in. "Considering what happened, it seems fair to give you an answer."

He cocked an eyebrow at me. "I'm just- some guy, though. Who cares if I asked? I'm not anyone important."

"Well, the only reason I am is that I'm good at fighting", I said and shrugged again. "Whether you're 'important' or not doesn't matter. It's arbitrary. At the end of the day, we're all trying to figure out how to survive."

Honestly, it wasn't all that different during the Human-Covenant war in my universe. The only difference then was scale.

"... And you really don't think I'm a coward for not wanting to go down into the base?"

"No, I think you're a lot less crazy than everyone who did."

Corey huffed and I saw a grin turn up the corners of his mouth.

The last minute of walking passed in relative silence. People were still around, still staring at me, but there were fewer of them than either in the building or on the way here.

I climbed the two steps onto the porch, my right leg still stiff enough to make the effort awkward, and knocked on the door.

Slow, plodding footsteps came from the other side a few seconds later.

Jake's younger brother- wow, I didn't know his name- swung it open. Like Jake and his parents, he looked exhausted. The deep bags under his eyes and droop in his shoulders said he was about as ready to drop as Corey.

But, as soon as his eyes lit up with recognition, his back went ramrod-straight.

"Oh, hi Damon", he said. "Are you looking for Jake? Or my ma and pa?"

"No." I shook my head. "We're trying to get some food, water, and a place to sleep for Corey."

The young man's- hell, he's probably younger than me- eyes dropped to the shorter man beside me.

"Sure- yeah- I can do that." He hurried out of the way. "Come on in."

"Go ahead", I said, motioning for Corey to go first.

He did and, once I ducked through, I swung the door shut behind me. The interior of the shack was lit by a few hanging LED lights. A half dozen chairs were arranged around a large table to my right. Next to it was a small kitchen, complete with a stove and refrigerator. To my left, there was another collection of chairs and couches set in front of a fireplace. It wasn't large, but it was big enough I didn't feel cramped.

"Who is it, Daniel?" Abigail's voice came from behind a door ahead of us. She sounded as tired as she looked the last time I saw her.

"It's Damon and Corey", he called back. "They're lookin' to get Corey some food and rest."

"Alright, gimme a sec."

The youngest Finch nodded and waved at the nearest couch. "Take a seat." A tired smile slipped across his face. "You look like you're about to drop where ya are."

"Yeah", Corey said as he hobbled to the collection of furniture. "Feels like it too."

There was some shuffling behind the door and, as Corey dropped to the couch, it swung open to reveal the family matriarch.

"Damon", she said, nodding at me. "Corey. You make yourself comfortable there. We got some food in the refrigerator. You have whatever you need." She pointed to a door just beside the one she'd emerged from. "Bathroom's in there."

Corey's eyes went wide and he started standing. "No, I'm not trying to intrude."

Abigail's tired face turned stern. "Corey, you've been sittin' by Brenda's side for the last four days. I'll be damned if, when you come lookin' for a place to rest, I turn you away. This ain't intruding. After what you all have been through, it's the least someone can do for you."

I barely managed to stop myself from chuckling. Abigail has made me smile every time I've seen her, even back- before. There are some people who… give a damn. Some people just give a damn.

"Thanks, Abigail", Corey said as he lowered himself to sit back down.

The dark-skinned woman nodded curtly. "Now, I apologize, I won't be much use for hospitality since I'm exhausted too but if you need something that isn't in the refrigerator, Daniel'll be happy to help." She looked at me. "What about you?"

"I was helping him out." I nodded toward Corey.

"You don't need anything?"

"No. Thanks though."

"Alright then." Abigail gave Corey a tired smile. "Corey, I'll be in my room. If something comes up, holler."

"Thanks, Abigail", he repeated. He was fighting to keep his eyes open.

With that, the Finch matriarch went back into her room and left the three of us on our own.

"I think… I'm gonna get some sleep before anything else…"

"Use the bathroom first", I said. "Your body will-" I don't think he needs to know the intricacies… "You'll feel better."

Daniel slumped into a chair directly across from the fireplace.

"I think I can finally get some shut-eye too", he mumbled.

Corey rolled his head to the side to look at me. "Don't bullshit me, Damon. You think she's gonna be okay?" He already sounded half-asleep.

"She's dealing with a traumatic brain injury", I replied. "Without advanced medical care, there's no way to be sure of anything."

He blinked so slowly I wasn't sure he'd open his eyes again. "You think the bullet went far enough to hit her brain? Shouldn't she be dead then?"

"No, I don't think the bullet made physical contact with her brain. The concussive force would be more than enough to damage it. She's lucky it wasn't a rifle round."

"So…" he frowned again. He was trying to think of the next thing to ask.

"The answer to your next question will probably be 'I don't know'", I said. "I'm not a trauma surgeon, all I know is the physics behind it. I'm sorry, I can't- this won't make either of us feel better. It's impossible to know what her prognosis is. Some people might be able to help, I'll do whatever I can to get them here. I want to see her healthy again as much as- Well… maybe not as much as you."

Corey closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh. "Alright." He pushed himself to his feet. It looked like the action took every ounce of strength he had. "Bathroom, then sleep."

As he trudged over to the door, I looked back toward where the building was, through the wall. Going through the "what if"s wouldn't do us any good. I could imagine too many terrifying possibilities.

Daniel was already fast asleep.

Everyone was exhausted and I'd been sitting on my ass the last few days. Feeling guilty about it was dumb, I know. I'm not valuable for what they were doing and, despite my stubbornness, I do need to take time to recuperate. Even so, it felt like I could be doing more.

Corey emerged a moment later and wordlessly trudged back to the couch. He dropped onto it and laid down.

"Thanks for going in there for her", he mumbled. "I know you didn't do it just for her but- you know."

Did I do it for Brenda? No, but… "I still went in for her."

He closed his eyes and smiled. Whatever he said next was unintelligible and, ten seconds later, his breathing had settled into the deep, slow rhythm of sleep.

Corey really cares about Brenda. He was this tired and still forcing himself to read to her. The thought was both pleasant and painful. I hadn't gotten her out, not really. She was hurt. Badly. And how many other people don't even get to have the hope Corey does?

I turned and slipped back out of the shack.

It isn't just Corey, either. Yes, I feel bad I couldn't get someone he cares about out unharmed but I don't know what I'd do if she died. I'd never be able to… fix things between us. And Brenda would be gone. She's young, maybe four or five years older than me. So much of her life… lost.

Better. I have to be better.

Maybe the people who came to stare at me are gone… I started back toward the circle of buildings when I heard running from behind me.

"Damon!" someone called.

… Dammit. Why can't people leave me alone?

Recognition stopped the frustration before it could take hold.

"Andrew", I said as I turned to face the approaching Synth.

"Hey, sorry." He slowed to a stop in front of me. "I heard you were around. Everyone's talking about what happened. They're telling some crazy stories about your escape. I wanted to hear the real thing."

'Crazy stories.' I wonder what kind of embellishments people will have for this one… "Come on", I said and jerked my head toward the buildings to our west.

As we walked, I gave Andrew the short version. I left out a lot of Castle's part in it. I still didn't want to think too much about her. She's dead anyway.

The retelling finished right as we reached the large structure's front door.

"Wow…" Andrew mused. "Incredible."

"That's a word for it."

"And Brenda-" he glanced at the door. "Cass told me a little about her when we were here before everything happened. Corey seems like a nice guy, too. This all just… sucks."

I didn't mean to, I don't know why I did, but that made me laugh. "Yes. It sucks."

The Synth frowned. "Sorry, I wasn't trying to make it sound childish."

"No, it's fine. 'Sucks' is one way to put it." It was my turn to frown. "The problem is I don't think it's getting better for a while."

X

The next five hours passed quickly. For the most part, we stayed with Brenda. When the gawkers became too distracting, I left with Cass to find everyone food. Abigail came to check in on us with Corey and Jake not long after and she essentially told anyone who didn't have a reason to be there to get lost.

Something else to appreciate about her.

Preston's call came around 1500 on the encrypted handset he'd given me. Haylen had contacted them. He said he'd give us the details once we got back but we needed to be there ASAP.

We were back in the truck 15 minutes later. Leaving the Farms behind- leaving Brenda behind- felt wrong. But there was nothing I could do for her. Not by being there, at least. My best option was to figure out how to get an Institute resource here. When I asked, Jackson said he'd see. They were careful about who and what they moved out of the Institute.

Even if I wanted to rip the 'yes' out of him, I could understand.

Once we were back at Sanctuary, Preston greeted us at the gate with Owens, Glory, and two others. Apparently, whatever he had couldn't wait until we got to the Vault.

"No details on what information they're trying to get us", the Minuteman leader said once we were at the bridge and out of earshot from the town. "But Haylen explicitly said it's important information."

Sensitive. She didn't want to risk communicating it over radio, even if it was secured. No point in speculating what that might be, too many possibilities.

"Where's the meet and who's it with?" I asked.

Preston glanced at Glory. "A squad of defectors, apparently. They're escorting our 'package'."

"Is the package a person or the information?"

He shook his head. "Didn't say. She had to keep it short."

"I have a question", Nate said from beside Preston. "How is Haylen talking with us?"

"We have a 'volunteer'", Glory replied. "Put him in about three weeks ago. She works with the recruits. He handed off one of our secured comms, locked on a dedicated channel."

That was good. If the Brotherhood made her, they still wouldn't have the right protocols to listen in.

"How?" Jackson asked. He'd tagged along while the rest of his team stayed in Sanctuary. Nate had insisted. From my limited experience with the man during my stay at the Institute, it wasn't a bad idea.

The white-haired woman smiled. "They started taking recruits. Something tells me it isn't just because they want to integrate themselves into the area. They're doing the math and their numbers don't add up to a win. Our boy said they had some pretty interesting screening processes, but they were looking for a… different sort of infiltration." She motioned toward the Vault. "We've been around the block. We know how to set up an intel op."

Jackson nodded. "Fair enough. But we have to entertain the possibility they're playing us, don't we?"

"We do", Preston answered as we reached the large, cog-shaped elevator platform. "Which is why we're having this meeting."

Desdemona, Deacon, and Danse were waiting for us in the living quarters. They'd laid a map of the area to the north of the city on the table.

"We don't have much time so save questions until the end", Dez said as soon as we were all around the table.

"This", she pointed to an X she'd drawn on the map. It was about a klick north of the city, just off one of the highways. I knew the area; I'd walked through it a few times. It was maybe a klick away from Cambridge. Close. Very close. "Is the meet. We have to be in and out fast. Their cover is a patrol. Check-ins are at five-minute intervals and they've implemented localized triangulation around both Cambridge and Logan. Any check-in not in the patrol path is flagged and reinforcements are dispatched. A countermeasure against potential raids. That means we have five minutes to get them to a safe distance."

QRFs at a kilometer? That probably means air support. If the Vertibirds are on standby, they'll be on-site two minutes after the missed call. Seven minutes isn't long enough to move out of air support's range on foot. The only option is one of the trucks. That terrain isn't good for fast ground movement by vehicle either.

"Our meet is with five BOS defectors", Desdemona continued. "If they're playing by their standard patrol rules, three will be in power armor. If this turns into a trap, we have the weapons to deal with that but it can't take too long. We have to assume they'll plan for a fight if it is a trap. That means we can't put high-value resources in the line of fire. If they don't have a recognizable target, they probably won't initiate." She turned to me. "That means you aren't at the meet. Same with anyone else they know."

Glory stepped forward. "So I'm leading the team. Victor and Wayne are with me."

Dez nodded. "Security team will be long-range. Damon, that's your lead; bring who you want. Nancy is a good shot, Pam can provide close security if needed. Both infil and exfil will be handled by truck. We know the area; there are several good locations for concealment. It will handle the load of three suits and nine people. The meet and greet team will put distance between them and the rendezvous as quick as possible, pick up the security team, and follow standard procedures. The meet is in four hours." She took a deep breath. "Questions?"

Grab and dash. It was simple and clean but… this was a plan put together by someone used to fighting an enemy like the Institute. Long-distance tracking isn't a concern. When fighting an enemy with ground troops that can teleport but no vehicles, their friend was time and distance. Time will almost always help. Distance doesn't mean as much when the other people have vehicles too, especially air support.

Especially when you don't.

"... Yeah." I looked over the map again. "With this terrain and the suburbs in the area, those trucks are only moving… 20 kilometers an hour, maybe 30. That isn't far in the time we have. It doesn't matter how far we go if they get people on the ground and find tire tracks. They can follow."

Glory frowned. "We don't have a choice but to use the trucks. It's better to get tracked than caught in the act."

"No, we can't get tracked. If they find tracks, they'll know it wasn't the Institute that took their people. If they don't find bodies or signs of a fight, they'll know it wasn't Raiders or Supermutants. We're the only other group willing to hit one of their patrols like this."

So, how do you make a patrol disappear in less than 10 minutes…? We can't airlift them. Hiding won't work in that area, especially with how easy it would be to track the power armor. We could have them ditch their armor but that doesn't make them impossible to track.

"Is it possible you might be overthinking this?" Preston asked.

"No." I shook my head. "If the Brotherhood finds us with the defectors, that's an excuse to shift their focus to us. It might even start the fighting."

"Well… they haven't done that yet and they know you're with the Minutemen."

"But not their people", Jackson mused, eyes roaming the map. "And if we have some of their people and equipment, that's an entirely different story. Especially if they're cooperative."

Owens ran a hand over his shaved head. "What about the informant we captured?"

"A defector is a different story", I said, "especially with a fanatic militia like the Brotherhood. We can't take down their QRF." I looked at Glory. "Unless you have or know of anyone who can shoot a Vertibird down with a firearm, the only ones who have done it to this point are me and the Coursers. I'm the only one who's done it with a conventional weapon."

"So our options are to either get away clean or make sure they don't have a reason to come after us", Desdemona said, folding her arms over her chest. "It makes sense… we just put this plan together while you were on your way back. Four hours isn't much time to work with and the rendezvous is non-negotiable."

Four hours? Four hours and transport is an eternity. We can get a lot done in four hours.

"We can rule out not leaving a trail", I said.

Nate hummed. "Making it look like someone else is involved is a classic. The Raiders have trucks and use conventional weapons. Not being seen would be a lot harder than the assassination attempt."

"And the Brotherhood will have their base under close observation after what just went down", Deacon added.

That's a good point. They're probably out if we want to go that route. This is up my alley. Sort of. Clandestine meetings aren't something I did much, but I ran security for them more than a few times, especially with my squad. I broke up even more.

If you can't avoid detection, the next best thing is misdirection.

"With the Raiders out, our only real options would be the Institute and Supermutants," Nate said. "Neither of them use vehicles."

Glory put her hands on her hips. "What if we made it look like something besides a defection?" She looked at me. "That's what you're saying the big issue would be."

That's another type of misdirection… "Make it look like an attack. Even a capture would be better. Leave signs of a fight, a few bodies, and get out."

"Okay, but we still have the problem of getting tracked", Preston said, "especially if you think they'll come in by air."

Nate put his hands on the table and leaned over the map. "The closest cover from a search party will be the city. Gives us a lot of options and we can probably get there with time to spare. Tracking us through it would be damn near impossible."

"What if they do?" Dez asked. "We need a way for you to lose them for sure."

The city is a good idea but Desdemona's concern is valid. The subways wouldn't be bad but, if the Brotherhood was dedicated, they could chase us down there…

"Nate", I said, "the Ghouls we ran into underground. Their hideout was directly south of this meet-up. A klick and a half."

"The Ghouls?" He looked up from the map and at me. "You think they'd be willing to hide us out?"

"Maybe not, but they knew the underground structures well. They might be able to give us an alternate path. Even if they don't do that, it gets us off the streets."

"What Ghouls are you talking about?" Preston asked.

Nate stood from the table. "After we met with Goodneighbor, Supermutants attacked the town. Me and Damon tracked them back to their base. Brotherhood showed up and we had to get out. We went into the basement and a group of Ghouls lived down there. They let us pass into another building through there to avoid the fighting. We talked with one, it sounded like he… sorta offered his support if we needed it."

"Okay", Dez said, nodding, "I like the idea. Like you said, even if they don't want to help, hiding out down there will make finding you almost impossible. Unless the Brotherhood wants to check every basement downtown. What do we need to make this look like an attack, not a rendezvous?"

"Bodies and explosives", I replied.

Preston frowned. "Where are we gonna get bodies from?"

I have an idea… "Are there any Raiders operating in the area?"

"Didn't kill enough of 'em at the base?" Glory muttered. "Yeah, I think, last we checked, a few smaller groups were harassing some of our people. We could probably hit one of them in the time we have." She eyed Desdemona. "Is that something we wanna do? Decide to kill some folks so we can use their bodies as decoys?"

She had a point, it was cynical, but they're Raiders and I won't feel bad about that.

"Yes", the Railroad commander said before I could respond. "We've been putting that off for a while now. How long would one of your squads need?"

"I'll have to get with Victor and Bruce. We might be able to call one of the recon teams back and have them deal with it. Give me 15 minutes and I'll have an answer."

Dez nodded. "Do it."

Glory marched from the room to perform her assigned task.

"The Ghouls", Desdemona said once she was gone. "We need to know exactly where they are and we should get an answer about whether they'll help us ahead of time."

"We'll do that", I replied, motioning at Nate. "Give us a truck and two hours."

"All yours."

I nodded at Nate. The ex-soldier returned the gesture and we started out of the room. Jackson followed.

"I'll come", the former scientist said when we were back in the hall.

My first thought was to decline. We didn't need another body. But we had a vehicle, so it wasn't as if he'd slow us down.

"Alright." I motioned back toward the elevator. Two hours to get there, talk with the Ghouls, and get back. Shouldn't be too hard.

X

Getting back to the tower wasn't the hard part. Nate knew where he was going, which is good considering he was the one driving. Jackson was in the cab with him and Dogmeat while I stayed in the back. The ex-soldier did his best to both maintain good speed and keep the truck from bouncing around too much. Under normal circumstances, I'd tell him not to worry about me. There was plenty to hold onto in the truck's bed.

Right now, I'm going into another mission less than five days after three major tendon/soft-tissue strains. Making sure I didn't stress anything before the upcoming operation was an important consideration.

As it was, the trip down still took less than half an hour. We had to take a half-dozen detours to avoid areas that looked suspect, with sightlines that looked too good or obvious ambush positions, once when something took a shot at us, and four more times to circumvent blockages in the road.

We stopped the truck a half-klick from the target in a tower's sub-surface parking garage. Nate disconnected the truck's battery and hid it near the back.

The half-kilometer journey to the tower wasn't difficult either. The area seemed relatively devoid of activity after the Brotherhood and Supermutants had their fight a few weeks ago. We stuck to alleys and cut through buildings to avoid potential fights. Dogmeat paced out a few meters in front of us, head up, ears forward, and eyes alert. His demeanor, as usual, had shifted. Instead of the almost puppy-like excitement he'd shown when I came back or his calm attentiveness around Cass, he was poised and alert.

My leg was still stiff and would twinge every so often to remind me it hadn't healed yet. Still, we moved quickly through the cracked and rubble-strewn streets.

We'd been in this area recently, so we could avoid the major blockages with minimal delay. The only major one was having to circumvent a tower that had collapsed across three streets, destroying other, smaller buildings and making the roads impassable without a significant amount of urban spelunking.

Other than us, the city was quiet. I could, as always, hear occasional gunfire in the distance or the pounding of a Vertibird somewhere but that wasn't anywhere near us. Other than the large piles of rubble that used to be buildings, the 'wildlife' in the form of oversized insects that tried to avoid notice, and the looming buildings around us, the city was empty.

It was… strangely foreboding. That or maybe I just hadn't ever thought much about it.

Less than 10 minutes after leaving the truck, we reached our objective. It looked exactly the same as when we were here last time which is to say, decrepit and half-collapsed. If I was being honest, an artillery shell could have hit the building and I wouldn't have noticed the difference.

It was all… easy.

No, the difficult part came when it was time to descend back into the basement.

"30 minutes", Nate said.

I nodded. "Affirmative. Don't get seen or shot. Again."

The ex-soldier shot me a bemused frown. "I only get shot by you or when I'm with you."

"True enough."

Pulling the door open, I slipped inside. Once it was closed and the light from the afternoon sun was shut out, I activated my NVS and began the journey again.

Last time we were here, the Brotherhood and Supermutants were fighting above us. While I was fairly sure they wouldn't come down after us, mostly because they didn't know we were there, it was still a consistent concern during the journey. On top of that, I didn't know where we were going, and I didn't know if there was even another access point.

There was also the issue of having Nate in tow without the benefit of being able to see. I had to, essentially, act as a blind guide for him while also navigating the few dozen ferals using this place as a home.

This time, I knew where I was going and didn't have to worry about Nate tripping over something.

As I descended the stairs, I was careful to keep my armored boots quiet against the concrete. Ferals weren't much of a concern, but I didn't need the wasted time. We're operating on a clock and, even if I am injured, I'm not about to be the reason we run it down.

We didn't run into any feral ghouls until we reached the utility room last time.

This time, I found three near the bottom of the stairs. The bastards seemed to sleep wherever they decided to lay down. All three were on the floor in random positions. Two were almost on top of one another.

With the cramped hallway small enough it felt like my head was brushing the ceiling and my shoulders were a centimeter away from each wall, it was difficult to get past them. It would have made my life much easier to pull my knife but I'd already killed some on the way in the first time. I doubt Jesko appreciated that.

Despite the difficulty slipping past them, it was encouraging; if the ferals were still down here, it was likely Jesko's group was, too.

After passing the first trio, I headed straight down the first hall until I got to a T-intersection. The first time we were here, we went right. That led to a supplies area and a few utility closets. We'd had to double back and come through here again.

A left turn and a half-dozen meters down the hall, there were more Ghouls.

Even with having to ease my way around the husks that called this place home, I reached the large utility room in two minutes instead of the ten it had taken last time.

… Maybe calling this the 'hard' part wasn't fair. It wasn't hard, just annoying. It would have been easier to dispatch the Ghouls blocking me. At least, it would have made the trip easier. Whether that would have made the negotiations easier…

While I might be trying to improve my tact, it isn't and probably never will be something I'm good at.

I dropped down onto the catwalk and avoided another two ferals.

The only thing I had going for me was that I'd been here before and, while they weren't exactly welcoming, the Ghouls had been amicable after we got the initial encounter out of the way.

And that was with me being… less than cooperative. I like to think I'm a little more agreeable now.

Guess I'll see in a little bit.

20 seconds to cross the catwalk and out of the other side of the room.

Hopefully, I wouldn't need the half-hour Nate, Jackson, and I had agreed on. It would only take me another minute or two to reach the Ghouls' living space.

Slipping past the sleeping Ghouls got easier once I was out of the cavernous utility room. There were fewer, only one or two at a time, and they were more spread out. The short hallways between rooms were no wider, and I still felt like the walls were trying to close in on me, but I managed to avoid contacting any of them.

Soon enough, I heard muffled talking drift through the hall. They're here. Good. I let out a long breath.

As I rounded the last corner, the hall widened into a small room with the door on the far side. The faded "ACCESS" was written across the metal in large, stenciled lettering.

The voices sounded distinctly Ghoul-like: scratchy and hoarse.

Tapping on the steel just hard enough to make a sound at the same level as their conversation, I strained to hear the sound of approaching feet behind me.

Conversation on the other side stopped and I heard a chorus of swearing and scrambling from the other side.

It was to be expected. Not like they get many visitors.

"Who's there!" one shouted. It was Jesko. I winced. That was loud, booming into the otherwise silent basement.

"It's Damon", I called back, hoping that wasn't as bad. "We met a few weeks ago."

"The big fucker in armor?"

The sounds of stirring drifted from behind me.

"Yeah. Your friends are waking up out here and I'd prefer to not fight them."

There was a short pause before I heard someone approaching the door. The sounds of activity behind me were getting louder…

Something clanked on the other side of the door and it pulled open a hand's breadth. Soft light spilled out through the narrow gap and I was greeted by Jesko's pale, pitted face and the barrel of a rifle.

"You got anyone else with you?" he asked.

"No."

The Ghoul stopped and cocked his head to the side, listening. "You kill any of 'em this time?"

I shook my head. "Not since I knew they were yours."

He frowned, eyes narrowed. Something tells me he didn't buy that answer.

"You can check if you want but I will defend myself if they catch up before you let me in."

"… Alright. Hands off your gun."

Once I pulled my hands away from the Mk-18 and held them out to my sides, Jesko stepped back and swung the door open. He waved me through, one hand wrapped around the grip of his bolt-action hunting rifle. After I ducked inside, he slammed the door shut and latched it.

The same four other Ghouls were at the end of a five-meter-long hallway, all aiming similar weapons at me, framed by the soft glow spilling out from their living space.

"Where's the other guy?" Jesko asked as he stepped around me, the muzzle of his rifle almost pressed against my chest.

"Nate is waiting topside for me to make contact." I kept my hands held out to my sides.

"Why'd you come alone? Seemed like he's the better talker."

"He is", I replied, hooking a thumb over my shoulder at the door where I could hear Ghouls pattering around outside. "I wanted to get through without having to fight."

Jesko cocked an eyebrow. "You're trying to tell me you can sneak around in that armor better than he can on his own?"

That seems a little beside the point…

"Yes. You can check for bodies. I'm here for a favor. If you don't want to talk with me about it I can get Nate but you'll have to get them", I jerked my head toward the door behind me, "out of the way."

The Ghoul frowned. "Would he have something different to tell us?"

"No, he's better with people."

"Why don't you ask us for this favor and I'll decide if I wanna hear it from someone nicer."

I glanced at his friends, still grouped up at the end of the short hall. Their weapons weren't powerful enough to punch through my armor but, all the same, I'm not a fan of being under a gun.

"Can we put the guns down?" I asked.

Jesko hummed and lowered his rifle. "Long as you keep your hands off yours." He turned around and waved at the others. "Relax, guys."

One by one, the four others followed suit.

"Thanks", I nodded. "We'll need to hide somewhere for a few hours to lose the Brotherhood. It will be me, Nate, and eight others."

"What?" one of them groaned. "You wanna bring 10 people down here?"

"What's in it for us?" Jesko interrupted. "And how much danger would we be in?"

"No danger. We won't come down if we're being actively followed. And we can give you whatever supplies you need." I motioned toward the old bolt-action rifle the Ghoul was cradling. "Looks like you could use better weapons."

His eyes dropped to it and he shrugged. "Me and the 'ol girl have been through a lot. Don't know how enticing that proposition is."

"We have food, water, medicine, ammunition…" I looked from him to his companions, and back. "Last time I was here, you said you wanted to support the Minutemen. You know it will be bad for you if the Brotherhood wins."

"How do we know you won't lead the Brotherhood to us?" the woman, Lucy, asked.

"Coming down here with them on our asses would only trap us."

Jesko frowned. "You aren't very good at this whole 'negotiating' thing. You could lead them here without knowing."

"No", I said, shaking my head. "Our best people are on this mission. They won't follow us without us knowing."

None of them answered for a quiet moment. The only thing I could hear was the gentle patter of feet outside. No distant Vertbirds or gunfire, no wind, no rustle of bushes. You don't notice how many ambient noises there are until they aren't there anymore.

"You're saying we can have whatever we want", Jesko finally said.

"Within reason."

"And this is a big deal? A big hit to the Brotherhood?"

I nodded. "It's why I risked coming down here."

The Ghoul turned and looked back at his friends. One shook his head, Lucy shrugged, and the other two nodded.

"Alright, Damon", Jesko met my gaze and held out his hand. "When are you bringing all these people down here and how long do you need to stay for?"

"Thanks", I said, gently shaking the offered hand. "We'll be back in three hours. Depending on the situation, we might have to stay until tomorrow morning."

He gave me a bemused frown. "Great. Just what I want. 10 strangers in my home overnight."

A/N: So, we finally have a little payoff from Haylen's long-awaited defectors (maybe). It was only 40 chapters in the making… But hey, if you've been around this long, you know I like my slow burners. It's also interesting to get shoved back into the rest of the world after their previous week and a half (or few months in our time) has been so isolated. Things will start moving quickly again, though, I promise. I'll see everyone next time!

Next Chapter: 8/23, A Sickness