set the world on fire

Once the high had worn off, the day’s events were strange distorted. York could hardly understand what had happened since they stepped into Greentech. He knew there were Gunners, he knew he had killed a fair amount of them. He knew he had broken his fingers against a Courser’s skull, but the details were... sketchy, at best. Eli had given him some idea of what had happened - not much, but enough to get the idea that maybe he should stay away from that particular drug. At least for now. 

Maybe until his hand healed up. He spent the walk to Eli’s apartment frowning at his splinted fingers, at Daniel’s back, and giving Dogmeat long suffering looks. The dog didn’t spare him much more than a second’s glance, busy sniffing along the road as they walked. The sniper on his back was a heavy weight, his hand hurt like hell, and York felt more and more useless with each step. 

They had to hide from mutants for fuck’s sake. He’d shot more of those green bastards in the skull than he could count and yet... Well. Supposed it was his own fault. 

Inside the apartment, he watched Daniel go straight for the fridge. The kitchen was small, edged onto the living area. There was a radio in there and York walked past where Dogmeat had collapsed on the floor with a huff to reach for it. The only stations may be classical and Diamond City Radio but he could listen to some old songs for a bit. It tuned in at the end of one of the DJ’s weird rambling ‘news updates’ and then coasted straight into the music. 

With a sigh, York dropped his pack to his feet, set his rifle carefully against the wall, and then leaned into the couch. The area a television would have sat before all this was taken up by a ramshackle fireplace, the old wood inside unlit. The lantern, also dark, sat on the window sill above him. York accepted the cola from Daniel, eyes locked on the fireplace, and as soon as Daniel disappeared into another room, York set it aside. He pulled his pack back to him and dug inside for Med-X. 

He shot a brief look at Dogmeat, syringes in hand. The dog was already fast asleep. “Guess it’s safe enough here, huh?” York said to the sleeping animal. “Can’t blame me for this.” 

A part of him knew he shouldn’t take too much of this. Not on a good day, definitely not after having already been high once. And on something else, too. 

Did chems mix like that? 

In the quiet of the apartment, he heard water falling. A vague thought of a shower - of hot water scalding the aches from his muscles - passed his mind and then York lined up the syringe of Med-X to the vein in his right arm, the injured one. The effect was slow but easy, much more relaxing that the mess Hancock had given him earlier that day. He had given himself a second dose within five minutes, removing his shades with a heavy sigh. Those were set aside on the table near him, beside the lukewarm cola. 

York looked from his sister to Daniel, then at his hand. Another quick glance back toward the other room. He said, “Shit hurts.” 

He was still trying to process the rest of what Daniel had said. Heading back? Head back where? York didn’t have a home here, just bunks in various little settlements; Daniel definitely didn’t have a home, or else he wouldn’t have been standing around starving to death outside a vault. 

Before he had figured out what to say, Eli was talking. She was sitting on the floor next to him, her hands in her lap after finishing bandaging him. She didn’t even look up at Daniel. “I think you two should stay here. At least for a day or so. We killed a Courser and that means the Institute will be on our asses soon enough.” She paused, glancing up at York and then, with reluctance in her eyes, up at Daniel. “I don’t know what you think you’re capable of,” she said to him, “but my idiot brother broke three fingers. He’s not gonna be firing any guns any time soon.” 

York frowned, lifting his bandaged hand in front of his face. “Great,” he muttered. “I’m a useless sniper.” 

Eli ignored him. Just like she ignored the annoyed look on Daniel’s face. “If the Institute doesn’t know we’re responsible for that mess already, they’ll be looking for whoever did the job. Can’t imagine they’ll take kindly to someone breaking a Courser.” 

Yet again, York found himself wishing for Med-X because now Daniel was staring at him, brows raised, waiting for York to say something. He likely wanted York to protest that, say he was fine, that they could leave and handle themselves. 

All York could think was that with Med-X to numb the fog of pain, he’d be able to appreciate how nice Daniel’s eyes were.

What a goddamn shame. 

He sighed, flicked his gaze up to the ceiling and addressed it rather than either of them. “Eli raises a good point,” he started. She made a small triumphant noise and he had an image of her smirking - the real her, with tanned skin and dark hair and freckles - flash to his mind. “I can’t exactly shoot anyone with three broken fingers. But... If we had somewhere safe to be... I think we’d be okay.” 

Somewhere beneath the pain, he knew he and Daniel had to figure out a plan. About what, he had no idea. Couldn’t remember what they had to face next. Just that Daniel had been there for him so York was going to be there for him - with whatever the hell was gonna happen. 

Eli scoffed. “Are you serious?” 

York shrugged one shoulder. He wanted a drink. Whiskey, maybe. “There has to be somewhere nearby,” he said, trying to think. Trying to pierce through to rational thought. “Like... isn’t there some settlement nearby?” 

“Bunker Hill,” she said instantly. “Which pays off raiders and has a shitty motel with piss poor food.”

What the fuck had happened to Bunker Hill? 

All York could remember from it was a huge monument. He could recall seeing it above Cambridge now, holes riddling its sides. Vaguely, he thought that there would be one hell of a view at the top of that thing. Nice sniper spot. 

Daniel spoke again then. “I was thinking somewhere with a bit more privacy,” he said. 

“The fuck do you need privacy for?” Eli asked. 

When York glanced her way, she had her gaze turned back toward him and he recognized the look on her face instantly. “Oh, no you don’t,” he said, making to point at her and only succeeding in making his fingers throb against the splints. “You’re out here fuckin’ Hancock - “ 

“Killian!”

“ - you don’t get to judge me!” He paused, looked up at Daniel’s confused face, and added, “You’re assuming shit, anyway. Nothing’s happening, not like that.” Even if he wouldn’t mind. “We just gotta... talk.” 

Christ, he wished he could recall what was going on. Something about... Brotherhood? Shit. Yeah, that was it. 

Daniel was nodding. “Right. So, privacy. We can make it to a settlement.” He said he could protect them both, they’d have Dogmeat. They didn’t need to wait around in here when they had other business. 

Finally, Eli threw up her hands, climbing to her feet. “Fine!” she snapped. ‘Fine! You wanna go? Go. I’m not stopping you.” She was turning as she spoke, leaning down to heft her back up. It dropped onto the arm of the couch behind York’s head and he sat up to watch her digging through it. “At the very least, let me give you somewhere to stay. It’s safe, quiet, and you shouldn’t attract too much attention.” Then she drew her hand out, a keyring dangling from it. There was only key on it, rusted silver, along with a dulled Nuka Cola charm. 

Daniel reached for it. After a brief moment, Eli dropped it into his palm. 

“Assuming you know Hangman’s Alley?” 

“Course I do.” York had helped nail down ceilings, helped forage plants for the settlers to eat. “What about it?”

“That key’s to an apartment near there, behind Diamond City.” She looked from York to the key in Daniel’s hand and back again. “Along the water front. Look for an unlit lantern in a ground floor window.” 

He paused, then nodded. “Okay... Riverside, lantern, near Hangman’s Alley.” 

A glance at Dogmeat, making sure he got the kill. Then he noticed York moving in and figured the man had that covered.

He didn’t see what was going on upstairs, only that a moment after, someone was shoved into an elevator.

That was all he needed to know. He wasn’t gonna trust that woman. As she was returning, he could tell she caught him watching.

Good, he thought.

There was ringing in his ears still from the gunshots, but some voices were starting to come through, slowly. Next thing he saw was York’s shaky hand that he was staring at, cursing.

Daniel frowned, couldn’t tell what the curses were yet, though it looked bad. Bad enough for someone to be screaming at least. That’s not going to be any fun once the drugs wear off.

Normally, he’d say something. At this point, however, he was just tired of this fucking place. Instead, he went up to the body, revolver replaced by a knife. The synth didn’t look like a robot at all. It bled like anyone else in that room would, its face was now twisted into some odd, unnatural grimace from the punch that York threw at it. But it looked indistinguishable from a human. And there’s been enough human bodies to compare.  That wasn’t exactly what Daniel was expecting a dead robot to look like.

Regardless, he shoved the blade into its skull, prying it open in search for the component mentioned in the instructions provided by the mutant from the Glowing Sea.

He was glad his ears were still adjusting to the lack of noise, picking someone’s brain apart was not the most pleasant of sounds. Eventually, though, he ended up with a little mechanical part in his hands. Shook off the remaining brain chunks off his fingers and stood up, grabbing York’s wrist and placing the component in his healthy palm.

“It’s done,” he said. “Let’s get out of here before those Gunners find a way through that door,” a moment passed before he realized he hasn’t yet let go of his friend. Must’ve been still a little dazed from that fight.

He shot a glance at the ghouls as Dogmeat barked, clearly as eager to leave as the rest of them.

So that was it then. A Courser lay dead on the floor, a piece of its brain in York’s hand. He looked from the piece of machinery to Daniel, to his dog, to the ghouls. His injured hand shook as he pocketed the piece. Every nerve in his body still itched to fight, to attack someone or something - but, mostly, he just wanted to move and keep moving. Felt like if he didn’t, his skin would crawl off his body. 

The Gunners still in the building would make a good target, he thought. Lots of bodies, running at him like they wanted to be shot. And just on the other side of the door downstairs. 

A hand on his arm stopped him, Daniel tugging him away and toward the elevator. York frowned, looking to the other man. “You’re tellin’ me you don’t want to kill them?” he asked. 

The look from Daniel was enough of an answer. 

As soon as the elevator dinged, the old doors creaking open, York was pulled into it. Eli and Hancock followed, the dog at their heels. The whole ride down, York fidgeted, looking from his injured hand to the elevator doors to the others in there with him. Blood dripped steadily from his knuckles. Not for the first time, he thought that that was definitely going to hurt a lot soon. At the moment, it was a dull ache, a low throb of pain beneath the raging blood in his veins. 

The door opened onto an empty lobby. York frowned at it, neck craned to the ceiling, hoping one of those bastards still alive was down here somewhere. He’d never find out because Eli just snagged him by the back of his coat and yanked him after them. 

Outside, the rain had stopped. Clouds still shrouded the sun, ground covered in puddles, water dripping from the entry’s overhang. Off in the distance, a dog was rooting in garbage by an overturned, rusted car. York eyed it, wondering if he could get a clean shot off with his hand in the shape it was. 

To his left, Eli was talking. “Let’s go. I know a place nearby we can stay without worry.” 

And Hancock - “Long as it’s dry, I’ll stay anywhere.” 

York turned to the group of them. “It’s early in the day still,” he said. “We have other things we can do now.” 

“You’re probably gonna crash soon,” Hancock said. 

And despite any other objections York had, anything he said, Eli led them off down the street. York pointed out enemies along the way, mentioned things to Daniel that he still had to do in the hopes the guy would back him up, but to no avail. Not even the dog was listening to him, trotting ahead of the ghouls and sniffing along the ground. 

The safe place Eli knew turned out to be the third floor of a building that used to house an insurance business. A few rooms up there were wired through a generator, though she would only turn on lamps and covered every window. “Don’t want anyone seeing in,” she said. There were cots in one room, a makeshift kitchen in another, and an old worndown couch by one of the windows and a desk. 

York sat on the couch, pack and guns on the floor beside him, and very quickly found out that Hancock was correct. Less than twenty minutes later, he was asleep. The searing pain in his hand woke him up not too long after, and he ended up seeking Eli out for help with it. 

“You’re an idiot,” she told him, wrapping bandages around splinted fingers. “Coursers are way too strong to go around punching one.” 

York grimaced. Eli hadn’t wanted to give him any MedX, saying that after that Psycho disaster in Greentech, York didn’t need any more drugs. He definitely did. This pain was intense. “Yeah, well... Wasn’t exactly thinking,” he muttered. 

Eli snorted. “No shit. Why’d you do it? Other than not thinking.” 

“I dunno, I just...” He aimed a quick glance back through the small rooms. He could hear one of the others rummaging around in the kitchen, could see Dogmeat sleeping by the front door. “To be honest,” he said, dropping his voice, “I didn’t think it was real.” 

Eli gave him a sharp look. “What, the Courser?”

“Any of it.” 

She was silent for several moments, then sighed. “I’m hoping that’s due to the drugs,” she said. “But in case it’s not, you can trust me, Killian. All of this shithole is very real.” Her eyes dropped back to his hand, securing the bandage. “I felt those goddamn bombs land, saw the whole city turn to chaos.” 

York very much did not want to talk about this. He said nothing, letting her change the topic. 

“Do you have the chip from its brain?” she asked. 

Silently, he dug into his pants pocket with his free hand to pull it out, holding it in his palm for her to look at. “Dunno what I’m supposed to do with it,” he said. “There’s definitely more tech in there than I know what to do with.” 

“No doubt,” Eli said. She let go of his hand to reach for it and he let her pick up, watched her hold it between her fingers and gaze at it. “Tell you what. I have some friends in the city. One’s a damn tech wizard. Bet he could figure this out for you - especially if I let him know where it came from.” 

Sounded better than anything he could come with. It was a little hard to think of reasons not to let her have it when his hand hurt this much. “If you’re sure,” he said slowly. “I don’t want to chance killing another one.” 

From up the stairs, a man was screaming, hard to determine what about through the sound of their boots hitting the stairs and Dogmeat’s growling but the closer they were, the clearer the voice was getting. There was another one - their Courser, Daniel presumed.

Past the cage in the center of the large room, they headed up, Daniel took out a couple of pulse grenades from an outer pocket of his pack as they walked. Strapped them to his belt. Figured if they were going to fight a machine, these could come in handy.

A shot from a laser rifle interrupted the pathetic screams and begging. Then another man was being questioned and he too soon joined his comrade. A third voice started when Daniel and the rest found themselves right at the final door.

“Tell me the password,” he heard from behind it.

“Look, I already told you I don’t have it. I’ll help you find a way in, but listen-”

York gave Daniel a quick glance, or he thought York did, hard to tell through the shades, and they entered.

Two dead gunners laying on the floor, blood pooling around them, the holes in their heads still fuming from the laser shot. The last man - sitting wounded against the wall, eyes wide with fear staring at the bunch who just barged in. The Courser turned to them calmly, clearly surprised but completely stoic in his actions still. He was wearing a long, leather coat, all black. Exactly what you’d expect an assassin to be wearing. The Institute was lacking some subtlety there.

“You’ve been following me,” he said.

Fuck, that dude had a really punchable face. York’s gun was already aimed at him but for some reason, he didn’t take the shot just yet.

“You’re a bitch to find,” Daniel stepped forward, scanning the synth and the surroundings as he did.

“Are you here for the synth?” the Courser spoke again. Daniel heard Dogmeat growling angrily right behind him, he could only imagine how eager to fight York was right now.

What synth? He had no idea. Didn’t much care either. If there was another one of them - he can put a bullet through their head later as well.

“Yeah, you could say that,” thank god this idiot was talking, that gave Daniel just enough time to notice a StealthBoy under his coat. A newer, more compact version of one but he had little doubt about it. He reached slowly for one of the grenades and removed the pin as he spoke, “by the way. The password’s ‘fuck you’,” the grenade landed at the Courser’s feet and Daniel gave him a triumphant smirk before he ran back.

In a matter of a second, he turned on the StealthBoy just for it to camouflage him and immediately get fried by the pulse grenade, then everyone fired, the noise deafening in the closed space.

This was what York was hoping for. 

Not the smug condescending asshole. The gunfire. The thrill of the fight to get here, the feel of the gun in his hands. He’d exchanged his sniper for the pistol after getting one look at the room. No good sightlines, no way to pull back. What he did have, though, was adequate room to line up shots on a snooty motherfucker in a leather coat. He had backup, other bodies in the room to lay waste to this guy, this Courser. 

Daniel was lucky that York didn’t fire as soon as he could. He had the shot lined up from the beginning and the instant one word fell from the Courser’s mouth, he wanted to shoot. His fingers twitched, tightening around the gun’s grip and the trigger, but he waited. He let Daniel talk. 

Good decision, as it turned out, since the Courser turned invisible seconds before a grenade went off under his feet. Maybe he’d thank Daniel later or something. If he remembered. The world was still loose, still felt like this wasn’t quite right. Like he wasn’t really here. Like the Courser wasn’t real, or the dog, or the ghoul to his left. 

The only thing that felt real was the gun. The loud, reverberating bang of it firing. It brought clarity to everything. He could feel his heart pulsate with each round that slammed into the Courser. 

It fought back, of course, with its own gun. With its hands. It landed a punch on Eliana as she swerved around it, another to Dogmeat dodging its feet. In the end, it went down. Brought to its knees by the multiple guns and held there by Dogmeat’s fangs sinking into its neck. A wound that, if this thing were real, would have left the Courser seeping blood and unable to talk.

But when York stepped before it, the Courser spoke, unhindered by the dog gripping it. “You accomplish nothing with this,” it said, soulless eyes staring up at him. “The Institute is more powerful than you. This synth isn’t safe.” 

Yeah, York was done listening to this. He was done with the Courser, cared nothing about any other synths. He rolled his eyes and, before he could even think about what he was doing, lunged forward and slammed his fist into the Courser’s face. Immediately, pain sparked over his knuckles and increased into a searing burn. He cursed, snatching him hand back and stepping away. Still cursing to himself, York eyed his hand and made a face. Two of his fingers were bent at odd angles and he knew what that meant, but he could only think that there should be more pain if he had broken bones. 

---

Eliana removed herself from the fight once she was sure the others had it covered. A Courser was a big deal and a huge problem, but with York’s brutality (thanks to drugs, she thought bitterly) and Daniel’s quick thinking, they should be fine. A grenade to cancel out a stealth boy was smart - without invisibility, a lot of the Courser’s typical bullshit was gone. Surely three guys with guns and a mean dog could take him down. 

And if they didn’t, then Eliana would finish what she was up to and go back to help.

She had heard the Courser mention a synth. While the other three were focused on him, she scanned the room until she locked eyes with a scared woman locked up on the far side. A woman dressed in Institute issued clothing. 

Eliana went to her and, after a quick conversation through the bars - a conversation that consisted of the synth confused as all hell as to what Eli was and Eli barking at her for a keys location - she had the gate unlocked. 

“You should get out of here,” she said, glancing back to the fight.

The synth didn’t move. 

“Go,” Eli ordered. “Now.” 

The synth said, “What... what are you?” 

Eli sighed. She hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “There’s an elevator over there,” she said, forcing her voice calm. “Take it. Get out of here. Find yourself some clothes that don’t scream Institute. And if you want help - which you should - look for the Railroad.” 

“The Railroad?” the synth repeated. “What’s the Railroad?”

“Will you just get out of here?” 

If there wasn’t a fight going on, if she could trust her own brother and his idiot friend, then Eliana would have explained everything better. She usually did better than this. Usually handled introductions to the wasteland calmly, let synths ask as many questions as they wanted. Someone as old as she had enough answers. As it was though, she had to practically shove the synth out of there. When she turned around to the Courser again, it was in time to watch York stumbling away from it. 

His heart was racing. Even glued to the wall next to him, crouching, he didn’t want to look out and risk getting shot. Shit was getting serious and to think the courser was supposed to be their biggest problem.

The speakers were back on again and that was another noise that was blocking out any clear thoughts. Daniel’s hands were shaking, gripping the gun tightly, a drop of sweat running down his temple when he saw York, in the corner of his eye, leaning out from cover and into a window.

He didn’t even think when he leapt for him, grabbing him by the shoulders and throwing to the ground.  It was like an instinct, like pulling your own hand away from something that burned. One shot came from York’s rifle, a dozen followed from outside. Debris from the shots that hit the wall landed on Daniel’s back and it took him a good second to realize neither of them got hurt.

A hand landed on his thigh as he looked up, Eli and Hancock already rushing to check up on them, heads low. His gaze shifted to York and something snapped in him when he heard the man’s words.

Still on top of him, Daniel grabbed York by the collar and shoved him down.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?!” he yelled right in his ear. Didn’t mind him being high on psycho up until this moment cause goddamn, if that wasn’t the stupidest thing York has done in some time. “Get a hold of yourself, you’re no use to us dead!”

Daniel didn’t finish when Eli dragged him away and forced him on his feet. She didn’t say anything. And York got up, with fire in his eyes, staring straight at Daniel and thank god Hancock stood between them, with that dumb, smug smile on his wrinkled, burned face.

“We got a courser to catch, remember?” he pointed at the hallway they were supposed to cross.

York adjusted the rifle and went ahead, although reluctantly. No doubt Daniel just avoided getting his nose broken a second time.

Right before they followed him, Eli just looked at Daniel for a second. She seemed worried and relieved at the same time. At that short moment, she looked more human.

With a pat on his back, Daniel moved ahead, following the two men, sneaking under the windows, out of sight. The hallway seemed to be getting longer and halfway through, Daniel heard distant noises from where they came from.

“I don’t wanna rush you, but,” Eli said, “we better hurry,” the shouting seemed to be far enough but getting closer with every second. Daniel kept looking behind, making sure no one would take them by surprise, though Eli probably had that covered.

They were almost at the end of the hallway when he heard the ghoul calling him from up ahead. The hallway ended with a turn and a heavy metal door blocking the way.

“Shit,” Daniel said, looking at the strong locks.

There was no way they were getting out of there unless one of the rooms back in the hallway lead somewhere. This was almost the top floor, though. And the voices were getting louder. There was a terminal on the wall but this kind of security…

“I’ll try to crack it,” he holstered his weapon. “But it might take a while,” he walked past York, who was now getting his gun ready.

With a whir, the terminal started, keyboard extended, a greeting flashed on the screen. He looked behind at his companions, exchanged looks with all of them and got to work.

A few taps on the keys opened lines and lines of code. Kind of code Daniel’s never seen before. His eyes were darting through it, reading chunks of it, grabbing what he could to understand anything from it. The shouting was way closer now.

“Any luck?” someone asked, he didn’t catch who.

“Uh…” he hesitated, still looking through the code. A few more clicks, a few typed in words and a new line of code appeared. “Fuck.”

“I don’t like the sound of that,” Hancock said, looking over Daniel’s shoulder.

“This is heavy stuff,” Daniel kept typing in between words. Good security. Three unsuccessful login attempts disconnect the terminal, no way around that, as far as Daniel knew.

He took a deep breath and started looking through code again, modifying it where he knew it was safe. The voices were clear now, probably on that ramp leading to their floor.

“Get ready,” that was York, he had a commanding tone, just like the kind Daniel would hear in the Brotherhood.

Then, an order to fire and all hell broke loose.

Amidst the chaos, Daniel tried to focus on the terminal, first moving his lips to match his thoughts, then mumbling to himself. Words and symbols scrolled through the screen, fingers tapping vigorously on the keyboard. First attempt. A swear word no one heard. More lines of code. His hands were shaking, palms sweating and he worked so fast he never had time to even blink. Behind his back, shouting, gunshots and his crew getting impatient.

“They’re in the hallway!”

“Reloading!”

No time. Without much more thought, Daniel pressed enter for the second attempt.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! Damn it!” he yelled, then resumed writing. Last chance. More carefully this time, as much as he could in these conditions.

“We have no time!”

“Don’t rush me!” he answered whoever that just was. He heard something about the Gunners being way too close and about there being too many of them. He had to shut it out, otherwise he’d never get these doors to open.

His hands were shaking so much that his fingers weren’t landing on the proper keys. Had to keep going back to correct the line he was writing and this time, he wanted to re-read it, make sure it wasn’t going to lock them out. But then, he heard the gunshots right behind the corner and the sound of a buttstock hitting someone’s head. He pressed enter and his heart stopped.

Staring at the screen, every second felt like a minute until the text said ‘unlocking… please wait’. Then the lock clicked.

“I got it, come on!” Daniel yelled, pushing the heavy door open. Eli went in first, Hancock behind her and York shoved Daniel inside along with him.

Bullets bounced off the metal as the two of them pushed it closed, Daniel with his back pressed to it. The damn thing was like a vault door.

When the shooting and banging from the other side stopped, Daniel slid down to the floor, his whole body was shaking now and when he stopped panting, he chuckled. Leaned his head back against the door and exhaled.

“We made it,” he said. “We fucking made it.”

The number of Gunners attacking meant nothing. York was confident he could take them out - it was like a game now. Point and shoot, down they go. Easy. He was sure the other two could take them out as well; even the dog could take out these guys. The annoying part was that York only had his sniper and a pistol. York had to stand farther back, closer to where Daniel stood. The sounds of Daniel cursing at the machine came to him as if from behind a wall - dimmed by the gunfire, by the yells of the Gunners and his party. By the blood pounding in York’s veins, rushing through his head. 

Every shot was an adrenaline rush. 

When the door was unlocked, York let the others go first. He took the time to line up a shot on a Gunner with a plasma rifle and then turned, pushing Daniel through it bodily. 

On the other side of the door, it was almost too quiet. The muffled yells of those locked out. The heavy breathing of his friends. Dogmeat, panting at his feet. York glanced over all of them, already itching for something else to attack. His gaze settled on Daniel for a moment. “Nice job,” he said. “Took you long enough.” 

The other man could have responded but something crashed up ahead and York snapped his head that way. A staircase climbed up before them, leading to another closed door - a regular double door, half ajar. On the heels of the noise, someone yelled out brokenly. York’s fingers twitched on the trigger of his rifle. “Bet that’s our Courser,” he said, turning back to the others. 

“Give us a minute, you ass,” Eli snapped. Blood was dripping down from a cut in her arm. She had her pack on the ground, kneeling by it. “Not like it’s gonna go anywhere.” 

As if to add emphasis to that, another scream echoed downstairs. 

York frowned. “Just hurry up. We’re wasting time.” 

“Time that you want to spend killing some more?” Eli said. 

York shot a glare at her before looking at the others. By the door, Hancock held a hand out to Daniel - he was refused, Daniel waving him off. Dogmeat was scratching behind an ear now, tongue hanging out. Blood splattered his coat and York wondered dimly if it was his or the Gunners. He stood, waiting impatiently, tapping his fingers on the rifle. And as soon as Daniel was on his feet, York turned and headed toward the stairs. 

Behind him, Eli cursed at him, hurled an insult that he ignored. She was in the middle of wrapping gauze around her arm, he knew that. But if he waited on her, that’d waste even more time. And he was eager to get this done. 

The room the stairs led to was large, most of it taken up by a massive computer system set up in the center. A cage surrounded it, another cafe separating the control center to its left. He by passed all of it to head to another, smaller, staircase on the opposite wall. The others were following - he heard their footsteps, the brief words passed between them. 

Louder pleading came from above them. York was practically sprinting up the stairs by the end of it, heading to another door. The final door, judging by the cold voice on the other wise - he paused, listened to it speak for a second longer. It sent chills down his spine and he wanted nothing more than to kill whatever was speaking. 

York glanced behind him. Daniel, Eli, and Hancock looked back at him - Eli with a sour expression. Dogmeat was growling lowly, hunkered low to the ground by Daniel’s feet. 

Now that he thought about it, Daniel was starting to appreciate the company of the ghouls. Especially Hancock watching their backs. That large amount of mercs was pretty unexpected, and for them to know about the Courser? That was just weird. Too bad there wasn’t time to think about it with bullets whizzing through the air right next to Daniel’s ear.

In all that surrounding chaos, the yelling voice in the intercom was especially annoying. Daniel spotted a speaker and fired at it when he found a window between shooting mercs. Didn’t help much, since there were more of those around but it at least gave him a temporary outlet.

Turning into the next hallway, he heard a familiar whirr and a loud beep. Similar to the one in Hangman’s Alley earlier that day.

“Turrets!” he shouted, though it seemed everyone made it into cover right when he signaled the threat. He was at the edge of the wall, the turret managed to notice Daniel’s arm, shot in his direction and he ducked as tiny pieces of debris sprayed from the corner of the wall.

He only heard one turret so far, a makeshift one. Gunners must’ve brought it with them. Though in a building like Greentech, it was odd they haven’t stumbled onto some old, pre-war security systems. Couldn’t be too careful with that stuff. One turret could be easy to shoot down. Maybe. If there were even more, they’d get ripped to shreds.

“Stay here,” he said, “I’ll take care of this.”

There was a room right next to them, only a couple steps away. Luckily, a piece of metal laying on the floor beside a pile of broken concrete. Part of a door maybe. It was rusty and curved and just barely enough to get Daniel across to the other room.

He grabbed the metal scrap and ran out of cover, bullets immediately bouncing off of his shield, the pressure almost throwing it out of his hands. The next few pierced right through it, exactly when Daniel jumped over the doorstep, letting go of the metal piece.

Something then touched Daniel’s leg after he regained balance and he was happy to discover that Dogmeat decided to keep him company.

“Good boy,” he said. “Go there, look for bad guys,” Dogmeat barked in approval and ran ahead, sniffing the floor and looking around. He was smart enough not to get himself into something he couldn’t handle on his own. And Daniel didn’t like surprises.

With his revolver still in his hands, he walked through the trashed office, walking over rubble and knocked over filing cabinets. He passed another door, still hearing the turret ahead of him, so he followed in Dogmeat’s footsteps, walking faster to where he was sure a terminal would be. A couple more office rooms ahead, there it was. One terminal that wasn’t broken. It had keys missing on its keyboard and a rusty frame but nothing Daniel couldn’t handle. The dust has been wiped off the screen, meaning it had to be used recently.

Dogmeat was sniffing around, guarding the place, so Daniel leaned over the terminal and logged into the system.

A standard RobCo one, something he had experience in cracking before. Scrolling down a list of oddly titled files and messages, he found a security application, then typed in a few commands to gain access. There was an option to configure the targeting parameters but it’d take way too long to set it so that the turret would attack Gunners instead of Daniel’s companions. Time wasn’t on their side.

With a few more clicks, the turret lowered its barrel and the whirring had quieted down. Daniel left the terminal, made his way towards the hallway, ready to be out of the room and call for York.

He was just about to take a turn when he felt a sudden, blunt pain in his lower back that made him choke on his breath and stumble, falling to the floor. He looked back, only to see a Gunner rushing at him to deal another blow with a baseball bat he was holding. Daniel braced for the impact when Dogmeat jumped the guy, making him scream in pain as the dog munched on his neck. Daniel reached for his gun and shot him in the guts twice.

“Get off him,” he said, rising to his feet and Dogmeat listened, although a bit hesitantly. The Gunner was still gasping for breath, desperately clawing at his own neck.

Daniel left him there to bleed out. Called Dogmeat to follow and walked out into the hallway.

“What happened?” Eli asked when they regrouped, probably noticed the fresh blood on the dog’s face.

Daniel shrugged, “let’s keep going.”

The turret shut off. Hancock and Eli’s bickering had long since lost appeal, fading into the background. The whir of the turret had been what York focused on as he waited impatiently for it to stop. And when it did, he was on his feet immediately, moving without waiting for the other two. His fingers twitched on his rifle, an itch to shoot something - someone - anything, really. It was a disappointment when they rejoined Daniel and no one rushed out to meet them. 

York barely gave Daniel a glance. He was upright, gun in hands; Dogmeat had some blood on his fur. Good enough to keep moving, nothing that would break them. 

He moved past without a word, a part of his mind reminding him that nothing would happen anyway. Nothing could happen. The building, the people they were fighting... None of this was real, wasn’t actually happening. A Gunner leaned out of a doorway with a pistol raised and York shot them in the chest with fluid movements. He watched the blood spurt from the bullet wound, heard the Gunner’s pained gasp and wheeze, the gun falling from their hand to the floor with a clatter. Pretty dramatic stuff. 

He took the corner sharply, reloading the rifle as he walked. He was lucky this was a motion so practiced he could do it without really watching; his fingers on the gun felt like someone else, the metal distant, cool bullets a brief sensation. 

The floor was out up ahead, creating a ramshackle ramp to the next floor. York took it at a jog, heaving himself up onto the next floor and immediately flattening against the wall closest to him. He snarled, “Fucking assholes,” as gunfire tore through the air. “Where the hell are they all coming from?” 

“Big building. Lots of guys,” Hancock said. He hadn’t even climbed all the way up, crouched down just below the floor. 

“We can get around them,” Eli said. She motioned with one hand down the hallway where several doors stood halfway open, stuck in their frames. “At least move somewhere where they can’t see us.” 

York looked at her, then at the others, at Daniel. He was positive Daniel would opt for that idea, that all three of them would rather slip down the hallway unseen. 

But that was bullshit. “That’s gonna take too much time,” he said. “Be easier to shoot them.”

“And that is stupid,” Eli said curtly. “I’d like to escape this shithole without a bullet in my head.” 

A burning irritation was very quickly flooding York’s veins. The Gunners had stopped shooting but they were yelling, taunts and insults shooting across the air. Each word they spoke only angered York more and Eli’s refusal to listen, to go with the easiest option, wasn’t helping. “I’m gonna shoot them,” he snapped. “Not like they can actually hurt me. They’re useless stupid fucking pawns in a game.” 

Eli opened her mouth to say something but York was already leaning out, rifle raised. He didn’t even think about it, just set the barrel against a shattered window frame, and lined up a shot. 

Dimly, he heard Hancock mutter, “Damn. How strong were those drugs?” 

Daniel’s eyes moved from the structure to York, who was now facing him and struggling to get the needle in. He took the man’s arm and the syringe from him, lined it up to where he assumed a vein was and pushed carefully, wary of York’s ghoul sister approaching.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” he said to York, noticing a slight grimace of pain on his face. He threw the empty syringe away, right before Eli had a chance to notice anything.

When York was pulling his sleeve down, Daniel was already making his way to the door. No point delaying any further with useless pleasantries.

The door was unlocked but heavy. Rust keeping it from sliding properly.

“Anyone gonna help me with this or what?” Daniel said and immediately, Hancock was at his side, helping to open the old thing.

It gave way then and Daniel heard the two siblings behind him ready their guns. They were gonna need them, it seemed, as the first thing that greeted them was a bloody corpse of a mercenary. Daniel took his revolver out, just in case, as they moved further inside, slowly and quietly. Discovering only more bodies on their way.

The space was some kind of lobby, didn’t look entirely abandoned. Trashed, from whatever went down before their arrival. Couldn’t have been that long ago, either.

“It’s too quiet,” Daniel whispered. More to himself than to anyone else but he heard York give a short, approving hum. He pointed the rest of his group to a staircase, a purely military gesture, and took the lead from there.

The rest followed and for once, Daniel was happy to stay behind. Debris was blocking the rest of the staircase, so they went up only to a balcony overlooking the lobby and leading to another open area when the silence was broken by a voice on the speakers.

“The Courser’s on the second floor. Kill on sight. Send reinforcement to the Lobby in case there are more,” they weren’t the only ones looking for the Courser.

Daniel noticed laser rifle beams behind a window on one of the upper levels inside the bright, open area which turned out to be an atrium. Then, shots got louder behind the doors ahead and Daniel, along with his other companions, jumped behind cover.

Before a gunner could even peek out the doorway, his head was blown off, brains splattered on the surrounding walls. His friend met a similar end, Daniel’s doing this time.

Finally. They were getting closer.

This entire thing - the Courser, mercenaries occupying Greentech, two ghouls walking through the trashed building with him - came together to make it all the more distant. Like this couldn’t be real. There was no way York’s life had taken such a turn into the deep end that mechanical war machines and walking corpses were the norm. He hated to think of it being so, especially since one of those ‘walking corpses’ was his own sister. 

Greentech’s ruined lobby and broken walkways did nothing to shake this idea. Eli held onto an automatic rifle, the Red Sox hat turned backwards over the scarf tied around her head; Hancock, a shotgun in his hands, smiled grimly at the scene before them as they progressed. 

The dog and Daniel were the only things that kept York grounded, even if it was just a little bit. Dogmeat was real - he had to be, looking like he did - and Daniel... There was no way York could accept that Daniel wasn’t a real person, that he was just some twisted figment of this world. York took the lead without thinking, barely listening to the voice yelling over the intercom. 

He caught enough to know that people were coming to them, and when opportunity arose, he shot one straight through the eyes. Didn’t even think about it. A cold sort of thrill was working through his veins, warping the sensation of unreality - he himself felt fake almost, like he was walking through a dream. 

Still, the military training made leading his group easy. Head through hallways, check doorways and hiding places before advancing. Shoot those who showed themselves. It wasn’t always him landing the shots; Daniel was good, Eli took out a pair that leapt out of a doorway to their right, Hancock covered them for flankers. Even Dogmeat surged ahead and snapped at legs and hands, distracting the Gunners. 

York set his sights on the furthest targets. Lined up headshots if he could. Each one sent a thrill through him. By the time they had to stop, forced to by the presence of turrets up ahead, he was actually annoyed about it. “Can’t believe this,” he muttered. Just around the corner, a turrets whirring motors could be heard. “There’s no telling how many of these bastards are in here and we’re being held up by a fucking turret.”

Across from him, crouched behind an upturned desk, Eli shot him a wary glance. “We could do with a breather, Killian,” she said. “Especially you. Do you have any idea what it’s like to watch you fight right now?”

He shrugged. “Does it matter?”

“You’re ruthless,” she said. “Some of these guys were trying to flee when you gunned them down.”

Daniel had already left, keeping low and slinking around a corner. Something about turning the turret off. York kind of wished he was still here because Daniel wouldn’t talk shit about a couple Gunners’ dying. Dogmeat had gone after him, growling.

York just repeated himself - “Does it matter?” 

Hancock was sitting by Eli, shotgun laid over his knees. He chuckled lowly. “Hey, he’s clearin’ the way for us. Doin’ a pretty good job of it.” 

“Could be doing better,” York said, “if this turret wasn’t here.” He paused, readjusted his grip on his sniper. “I could just shoot it. That’d solve the issue.”

“You’d get fllled with bullets,” Eli said. She considered him for a moment and York was suddenly very aware of how antsy he was, how his leg was bouncing and his fingers twitched restlessly on his rifle. And then Eli snapped her head to Hancock, saying, “Did you give my brother drugs?”

Hancock grinned. “Who, me? I wouldn’t dare.”

Eli cursed. “What’d you give him?”

“No idea what ya talkin’ about.” 

“John.”

Hancock laughed again. “Just a little pick-me-up, beautiful. Nothin’ to worry about.” 

As the heavy smoke coated his lungs, he thought, maybe it was for the better. Maybe today wasn’t the day he could tolerate York’s bullshit.

At least the rain was masking the awful ghoul stench, the sound of his voice and the laughter he shared with York. Not even halfway at their spot, Daniel was already eager to get into a fight.

A minute later, a drop fell down from his hood, past his chest, landing straight on Daniel’s cigarette and putting it out.

He muttered a curse under his nose as he threw away the cigarette. A comfort so quickly taken away. He spent the rest of their way with hands inside the pockets of his jacket, thinking only about getting the chip. Seemed to help him focus. At least for a while. When they made a turn, the radio attached to his backpack started crackling.

So did York’s Pipboy, as it turned out when Daniel walked up to his companions. With nothing but fog around them he looked at the man.

“Is this the place?” he asked, disoriented by the surrounding nothingness, reaching for his own radio and tuning it to the channel provided by Virgil. York was the only one who had a map.

White noise merged with voices and distorted songs from different radio stations, followed by more white noise.

The ghoul seemed uninterested, instead, he was looking around, searching something where there was nothing to see, somehow not discouraged by the fact. That went on until Daniel’s radio beeped. Once, then again a couple seconds later.

There was a confident smirk hidden under his scarf when he looked up at York.

The beeping should lead them where they had to go, somehow latching onto a Courser. Whatever the actual math (science?) behind it, York didn’t know and didn’t care about it. If he was curious later, he could just ask Daniel. For now, he followed the steady beeps on his wrist - and the simultaneous beeps from behind him, from Daniel. 

They walked in silence. York was splitting his attention between the map on the Pip Boys screen and scanning the road ahead of him. Daniel was silent; Dogmeat trotted ahead of them, sniffing broken windows and piles of garbage; Hancock, wandering after the dog, was humming to himself, a switchblade spinning between his fingers. Buildings towered over them, broken shattered things. They passed a turn off into a small suburban area and York headed that way, using it as a shortcut. 

As they progressed, the beeping quickened. It was annoying but handy, so York followed the noise until a large, green building rose out of the others. They were still a couple blocks from it when York stopped. He considered it with a frown before switching the station on the Pip Boy off that infernal beeping.

“Oh, lovely,” he muttered, mostly to himself. “Greentech looks friendly.” He had never been in the damn building before the bombs, had no idea what they did in it. Somehow, in the wasteland, it was an imposing figure. He could only imagine who was inside the place. Other than the Courser, of course.

“You ready to catch a Courser?” Hancock had popped up beside him, slapping a hand on his shoulder. He grinned, teeth yellowed and black eyes gleaming.

York shrugged his hand off. “Almost.” He glanced over his shoulder at Daniel - Dogmeat was standing at the guy’s side, staring at York as if waiting for direction. “You ready for this?” he asked. 

No matter the answer, they had to go there - but before that, York shoved his hand in his pocket, fingers wrapping around the syringe Hancock had given him earlier. He hadn’t wanted to take something like it before they got here and he wasn’t too keen on taking a drug in front of Eli’s judgement. He withdrew the syringe, turning it over in his hands. Hancock said, “Better take that now. Eli’s on her way.” 

York glanced up again. Sure enough, Eli was walking down the hallway toward them. He cursed, turning on his heels to face Daniel instead of her. He shoved the sleeve of his jacket up, looking down at his arm as he lined it up - and then he offered Daniel a smirk, rain causing his shades to slide down his nose. “Nothin’ like drugs to get the party going.”