enjoy the little things

Eq tsked in annoyance, moving his meal tray to be balanced precariously on a wing. The glass of water shook terribly as it slid into his salad. Dezen and him slid into stools in the farthest corner of the mess hall. Dezen's own meal was left overs from the last crew game night, a human delicacy Vivian had called a “roast beef sandwich” and “pigs in a blanket”. While he wasn't sure what meat made up the two items, the texture was quite pleasing to tear with his fangs.

“Human tools were…basic before they joined the rest of the galaxy,” Eq tried to reason. “Who knows what sort of data their kind has missed.”

“I can't even begin to describe just how wrong what you just said is. Be quiet and eat your food.”

Dezen just wanted to enjoy his meal in peace. Someone had spilled a drink all over the Law Enforcement Direct Warning Systems panel yesterday, and he and two other engineers were attempting to fix it for the entire first half of his shift. A few parts had been fried beyond repair and there were no replacements available until they next made port. While they would receive warnings on potential threats to the ship from its disaster scanners, none would be received on suspected criminal activity in the area or recently escaped convicts. 

It wasn’t an extremely major concern. The system they were in was peaceful and far from any orbital prisons. It was simply regulation for every ship with civilians to have one and they could get hit with a pretty major fine if an inspector decided to visit. 

“Hey Dezen! There you are!”

Vivian crossed the mess hall quickly, balancing her tray on one hand with far less grace than Eq did. Her other arm was resting in a sling under her chest, green bandages contrasting strangely with her white and black uniform.

“What happened to you?” Dezen shot up and quickly took Vivian's tray before she spilled it all over the floor. “You were perfectly fine when I saw you earlier! Have you gone to medical yet?”

Vivian scooted into the seat next to Dezen as he set her tray down. Her own meal was made of similar leftovers to his own, but with a brightly colored, carbonated drink that was apparently popular with humans. Eq was staring at her injury with incredible focus.

“Uh, yeah, how else would I get a cast on?” She chuckled. “I sprained my wrist working out with Galen. Doc says since it's such a small injury, it's best that I let it heal naturally so my body doesn't get dependent on the nano-healers and forget how to heal on its own. I'll get it off in a week or two.”

“Why would you agree to work out with Galen?” Dezen questioned. “They weigh 7 times your body mass.”

“We were doing cardio, not sparring! I do it all the time! Just messed up once and gotta wait a little.”

Eq finally broke his uncharacteristic silence. He leaned close to Vivian's arm, glaring at the bandages with a mix of confusion and annoyance.

“Who wrapped your wrist?,” he questioned. “These types of bandages are not from medical, we use them in the science labs.”

Vivian sipped her drink thoughtfully, then answered, “Yeah, they had run out in the office and any extras were in deep storage, so a nurse just ran to the lab and borrowed some instead.”

He made a series of clicks in annoyance. “My guess is it was one of the empty ones, otherwise anyone in the science division would have given her different ones. I would have gotten them out of deep storage myself before using those on a crewmember.”

“What do you mean by that?” Vivian's eyes went comically wide in fear. She grabbed Eq's shoulder and started shaking him. “Are these bandages poisonous? Do they have arsenic? Do I have to cut my arm off? Am I going to DIE from your science bandages?!”

Panic settled in Dezen's stomach. Vivian didn't work in the science division so it would be unsurprising if some materials were not safe for her species. Humans were newish to the galaxy, and it was impossible to know every health hazard to every species. The doctors and the nurses knew as much as they could, but there was still a reliance on data files and outside communication with specialists. The nurse could have easily grabbed something deadly without knowing.

Dezen grabbed Eq's other shoulder and joined in on shaking him, yanking the avian back and forth like a toy. “Eq, you can't just say that and not explain! Are the bandages deadly? Do we need to take Vivian back to medical?!”

“STOP SHAKING ME AND I'LL EXPLAIN!” Eq snapped. The two released the avian, but still stared as they waited for him to re-adjust himself. “The bandages are not deadly. We just use them on live specimens and color code them based on what we are going to do for easy identification. Red is for specimens that will be released back into their natural habitat, blue is for specimens that will be shipped to labs elsewhere, purple for when they stay indefinitely, that sort of system.”

“Okkkaaaayyyy,” Dezen said, confused. “and what is green used for?”

Eq looked down back at his salad and took a bite, deliberately avoiding eye contact with Vivian and Dezen.

“Eq, I swear I will delete all of your communications contacts if you don't tell me right now.” Vivian hissed. “I can beat you up even with a sprained wrist so don't test me!”

Eq swallowed and signed, expression between fear of the deathworlder next to him and embarrassment for starting this conversation. “Euthanasia. We use them on specimens that we euthanize and are very deliberate with not wrapping any other category with it, even if we have no other kinds. I was just surprised to see it on a crewmate.”

Vivian's mouth went stick straight and her eyebrows furrowed. Dezen wasn't expecting that answer, either. It was a silly worry, as the colors didn't really have any effect. Vivian was clearly not a specimen to study.

He was worried ,however, about the spark of mischief in Vivian's eye. Dezen had gotten rather good at reading her emotions, in his opinion. While her whole face was generally very expressive, her eyes seemed to change entirely to match with whatever she was feeling…and her eyes were lit up with trouble.

Her mouth downturned and her eyebrows rose in an exaggerated manner. To someone like Eq, who knew humans only on paper, she looked terrified.

“THEY'RE GOING TO PUT ME DOWN?!”

--------------------------

“I think Eq lost some feathers from your outburst.”

“Good,” Vivian said. “Maybe now he’ll stop bothering me about taking samples of my DNA.”

Dezen laughed and cuddled further into the “nest” Vivian had made in her quarters. It was basically a giant pile of every blanket, pillow, plush animal and soft item they owned. Her couch was somewhere in it as a foundation, but in all honesty he couldn’t find it if he tried. The nest was very warm and soft against his scales, making him feel like a hatchling in a sleeping pile. They became even warmer when Vivian joined, her body emanating warmth from its very core. The close contact and warmth was his favorite part of every movie night.

Which is why he was frustrated she was taking so long to jump in the pile. She had promised a movie marathon as neither had work the next day and he demanded cuddles!

“Vivian, you are taking forever! We are never going to finish the Ring Lord if you keep delaying!”

“Lord of the Rings, dude, it's Lord of the Rings,” Vivian said from behind the nest. Both had changed into comfy pajamas and Vivian had taken a bit longer to do her “skincare” at her sink. She popped open a tab of a strange sectioned container and dropped a bunch of multicolored beans into her hand.

“Is that candy?” Dezen asked, holding out a claw. “May I have some?”

Vivian looked at him as if he was insane. “What? No, these are my meds. Remember, humans can take medicine in the form of a little pill we swallow? You have seen me take pain relief medicine before.”

Dezen sat up more, trying to not be overbearing. “But they are so colorful. That one was white.”

“Different stuff, different colors.” She placed a green pill on her tongue and took a drink of water, swallowing it whole. 

“I thought you said the sprain was minor,” pressed Dezen. That seems like quite a bit of medicine for such a small injury. He didn’t think human biology was so weak it needed that much assistance to deal with a sprain.

“Nah, man” Vivian tucked her water bottle under one arm and came around to sit next to Dezen. She held out her hand and showed the variety of blues, greens, whites, and a singular orange pill. “These are for all sorts of things. These ones are for the vitamins I can’t get out here in space. Vitamin D, C, all those letters. Keeps my body healthy.”

“Very important. What do the rest do?”

“This one is my birth control, this one is to help my digestion, and this one-,” she held up the singular orange pill. “-is for my hallucinations.”

Dezen had never heard that word before. “What are ‘hallucinations’?”

“Oh,” Vivian sounded surprised. “It’s like when… your brain messes up and makes you think something is there, but it's not. Like hearing voices when you're alone, or animals in places they could never be. Do…do Kaxians not have those?”

“Vivian.” Dezen deadpanned, now fully sitting up. “That sounds like something out of a horror movie for me. What do you mean your brain just…LIES to you?!’

She burst into laughter at his fear, falling back into the plush pile and nearly dropping her pills. Dezen loved Vivian’s brain, it WAS Vivian basically. It held her wonderful personality and amazing intelligence, but it also could apparently mess up one of its own basic functions so horribly and so often that Vivian could laugh about it. And it was common enough in humans for this malfunction to have a WORD!

“Vivian, Vivian, stop laughing,” he tried to pull her back up to force her to continue the conversation. “You cannot just drop something like this on me and not explain. Vivian, please!”

“Okay, okay, okay,” she gasped in between giggles, “Sorry, sorry, It’s just I’ve never had anyone react like that except for like, really little kids.”

“I am not a youngling,” Dezen stressed. “I am a friend who is very concerned that his friend has something wrong with her brain and doesn’t seem to care about it. How did this happen?”

She flicked his snout in admonishment. “I do care. That's why I take the medicine. My doctor thought it was from my epilepsy when I was little, but I haven’t had a seizure since I was, like, six and they’ve never gone away, so I don’t really know.”

Dezen physically let go of her, but his concern didn’t waver. “So, it will never go away?”

“Probably not. Mine's pretty mild overall, just sounds and smells. Some people see things and that can apparently be really confusing when that happens.”

She sighed and propped herself up on her elbows. “I know how to handle this, Dezen. Trust me. If it was a real problem, I would have already spoken with medical.”

Dezen’s scales flared and he laid down next to her. Vivian was an adult by both human and galactic standards. He hadn’t meant to, but thinking about it now, he probably sounded more like a parent fretting over a hatchling’s scrap than a friend learning about a new medical condition. He knew he wouldn’t like someone undermining his intelligence like that. She was literally taking medication to handle the problem right now!

“I apologize,” he said. “I didn’t mean to treat you like you're helpless. I panicked and didn’t listen.”

“S’all right. I know I probably sounded insane.” She dropped the orange pill into mouth and swallowed it with water like the previous one. “I can’t believe Kaxians don’t have their own brain quirks like that.”

“I’m sure there is something we do that sounds equally strange to you as this to me. You can have a freakout when you learn about it later as payback.”

“I’m going to hold you to that. I hope it's in public so I can embarrass you even more.”

Dezen groaned. “I probably deserve that. Hurry up and take your pills so we can start the movie.” 

She placed another pill in mouth as Dezen took the remote to scroll through Vivian’s apps to find the right one. He wondered how many differences between them existed just beyond the surface. Not just in biology, but in culture and experience and thoughts. It felt sometimes he had only scratched the surface, despite his desire to know everything about her.

“What do you hallucinate?”

“Huh?”

“What do you hear and smell when you hallucinate?”

“Hmm,” she screwed up her face in thought. “Nowadays, since I take antipsychotics and I’m not under a lot of stress, it's mostly just muffled background noise or a really faint smell I can't place when it happens. The smells are never really a problem, but they change frequently. Sounds don't happen as often ,but when it's bad, I've heard drumming or emergency sirens.”

Drumming didn't sound too bad. It was a unique enough noise that it would be easier for Vivian to figure out it wasn't real and take whatever steps she had to. But sirens, sirens sounded dangerous. 

“How do you tell if the sirens are real? They are designed to cause immediate re-action in case of emergency. If you ignore it, you could be hurt, but if you don't, it could be nothing.”

“It typically sounds like an ambulance down the street, ya know, close enough to hear but not enough to freak out,” She explained. “It was the worst when I was in college. I was in-between therapists, unmedicated and stressed, so it started getting closer. Context clues were what grounded me. No flashing lights, no one running to get out, no smoke and I would start hallucinating a really strong banana candy smell along with it. Still, I had to leave class a few times because it was so would give me a headache.”

She swiped the remote out his claws. “Seriously, Dezen, don't worry about it. You know if something happens, you're the first person I tell. Now, focus, the Lord of the Rings requires your full attention. No frowny faces during marathons.”

“I don't even have the muscles required to frown.”

“You're giving the frowny vibes. I can tell.”

Deacon always observed before engaging with a potential synth.

Intel gathering was part of his job as a spy for the Railroad. First, he needed to confirm the person of interest is, in fact, a synth. He had been doing this long enough that he's gotten pretty good at guessing. After he got actual confirmation outside of his gut feeling, he had to collect information on if they knew they were a synth, who would be affected if they were found out, if they were reporting back to the Institute, etc. etc. It was a long, and quite frankly, mostly boring process that could take weeks before he could send in any significant report.

So he was pretty confident in his assessment that the kid who randomly emerged from a previously thought empty Vault and proceeded to involve herself into every known problem in issue in the Commonwealth was not a synth. Which made his job infinitely harder.

Synths with Institute code were programmed with where they needed to go, what they had to do, a schedule of sorts. Sunny Roberts had no set path. She would be at the Castle one day, then in Gray Garden the next, then she would be visiting Vault 81 for a week before heading out to the Glowing Sea. It was a nightmare trying to keep up with her and keep hidden amongst the locals. He did it, of course, but if the rest of the Commonwealth wasn't as equally invested in the Sole Survivor, he would have lost track of her months ago.

Which was why it was such a relief when the kid finally collected all the clues on the Trail of Freedom and joined their ranks as an honorary agent and liaison between the Minutemen and Railroad. While Deacon had listed her multiple achievements when he had vouched for her(many of which sounded stranger than most lies he's told. He wouldn't have believed half of them if he hadn't seen them happen with own eyes.), Desdemona had refused to clear her for any official missions. She claimed that fighting ghouls and Raiders was somehow less dangerous than fighting synths, despite the kid having taken out a courier.

“If her pre-war DNA didn't already make her a likely person of interest for the Institute, then being involved with almost every major event and faction in the last couple of months surely will,” Glory had reasoned with him later. “It's safer for her and everyone else involved if she only delivers messages between us and the Minuteman. We don't know what they would do to her, but there are fates far worse than the death that raiders would grant.”

Yes, Deacon understood. Putting the 12 year old in even more combat situations is bad. But his counterpoint: Sunny was doing that anyway. She wasn't supposed to be doing the Minuteman missions and she was never cleared for anything with the Brotherhood. She just showed up. She eavesdropped, snooped, and barged her way into dangerous missions for the Minuteman and the Brotherhood (previously). In his humble opinion, the mission ban they put on her only put her in more danger. Better to direct all her toward the less dangerous missions and keep an eye on her than let her get eaten by a super mutant.

Which is why when he was told to gather intel on a settlement called “Covenant”, he decided to take the scenic route and stop at Sanctuary. Deacon thought the assignment would be perfect to start the kid off on. Just some intel gathering in a fixed area. Low risk of her getting captured by synths and wasn't supposed to last as long as some other assignments he's had. She could even use some of those sleuthing skills she picked up from Valentine.

Sanctuary has changed a bit since it first started out. All of the debris had been removed from the street and creek and the long destroyed houses had been cleared for new ones. What houses that were still structurally sound had additions built on to accommodate everyone. Where there had once been a little playground held together by rust and termites, there was now a pretty decent field of wheat, corn, tatos, melons and other crops.

Overall, the settlement had decently grown in the past couple of months.

Deacon didn't really need a disguise around here. While no one here knew him (outside of the few companions that were allowed to accompany Sunny when she was at the Railroad base), the diverse range of settlers allowed really anyone to blend in. He was able to walk down the street and not a single person batted an eye (Except for the old lady, Mama Murphy, who gave him a knowing smile from her seat)

Sunny was easy to find with the cobalt blue of her suit that stood out like a sore thumb no matter where she was, especially with her combat armor off. She was on the side porch of her old home, scrubbing soap and water into Dogmeat's fur in an old, patched up tin tub.

“Dogmeat! No! No kisses! It's bathtime! You smell like Brahmin crap!”

“Hey, don't scold the pup,” Deacon teased. “He just wants you to join him.”

“AH!” Sunny nearly tumbled into the tub as she jumped away from him, exciting Dogmeat even further. He launched himself up on her, placing his paws on her shoulders and pushing her backwards as he licked all over her face.

“Woah!” Deacon grabbed Sunny's shoulders to keep her and Dogmeat from falling backwards. “Just wanted to drop by and say hi. Didn't mean to startle you.”

He did. He totally did.

Sunny gently pushed Dogmeat back into the water, her suit now wet from the bathwater and her face from dog slobber. Deacon could see her barely contained frustration and he wondered how long she had been fighting to get the German Shepard properly clean.

“It's fine, Mr. Deacon,” She sighed. “He would have done it on his own eventually.” She picked up an old metal can and filled it with water, pouring it over Dogmeat. Silence stretched between them as she attempted to get all the soap and remaining dirt in his surprisingly thick fur.

“Soooooo…still giving Garvey heart palpations from going on Minuteman calls?”

More water was poured. “If he doesn't want me to go on missions, he should start having them use a code on Radio Freedom.”

“Uh-huh. And when you were with the Brotherhood?”

“Both their security and morals are crap. Not my fault they make their passwords so easy, even I can break into them! And I'm terrible at breaking into them!”

“Surprised you haven't snuck your way into any Railroad mission yet,” Deacon teased. “What, does the Great Sole Survivor not feel like lending a hand to some poor synths?”

Sunny shot him glare as icy as a winter night. “First of all, you call me that again and I push you into this tub.”

Dogmeat barked in agreement.

“Second of all,” She continued. “Of course I want to help, but you guys are actually good at keeping your secret missions…well, secret! You use codes, secret messages and hidden caches! I'm not even sure if you write down anything until it's already done.”

“We don't.”

“I knew it!” She dropped the can in with as much finality and exasperation a 12 year old with braids could muster and spun around, gaze full of suspension. “Why are you here, Mr. Deacon? I know it's not to say hi. I don't think I've ever seen you outside of the Railroad base.”

She had seen him, she just didn't know it. While Sunny was aware that Deacon spied on her travels through the Commonwealth, she never recognized him in his disguises. Deacon wasn't even sure if she knew about the disguises. She had asked questions about what everyone did and who they were and everything like that but Deacon had avoided providing details like the plague so Sunny only knew what everyone else in the Railroad did: that he was a spy and a damned good one.

“I got an assignment to do some recon at this settlement a bit south from here.” Deacon said. “Covenant. For a new settlement, it's looking pretty good. I've been meaning to pay a visit. You heard of it?”

“Uuuuuhhhhhhh,” Sunny droned in thought. “I think so. It's ,like, a gated community with turrets, right? I've passed it a couple of times but I've never had a reason to go there.”

“Well, now you're gonna get up close and personal with it,” Deacon slapped a hand on her shoulder and gave a grin. “You're coming with me to investigate it.”

Sunny gave him a confused stare.

“What? I thought you guys didn't want me to go on missions.”

“Correction: Desdemona doesn't want you on missions,” he said. “Which is why we aren't gonna tell her. Better for me to supervise you on my missions than you trying to fight another courier.”

“I mean I may-”

“But first we need to find you some new clothes.”

“What?”

“You know, when you said I needed to change my clothes, I didn't think you would mean in a style that's over 200 years out of date, Mr. Deacon. I thought I would have to wear spy clothes.”

At that moment, Dogmeat decided he was done with waiting for Sunny to fully rinse him out and jumped out of the tub. Shaking his fur, he sprayed water everywhere. Now they both needed a change of clothes.

—---------------------------------

Sunny’s typical vault suit and boots had been switched out with a pink, frilly dress and black flats with knee high socks. Her duffel bag, Pip-boy and sniper rifle had been hidden in a nearby cache, along with the purple ribbon that was normally tied in a neat bow on the top of her head. Her hair had been freed from the twin braids and was left hanging loose past her shoulders. Dogmeat trotted alongside her, a worn pink collar replacing his armor, goggles and armor. Deacon wondered if she chose the collar to match her dress.

They had long left Sanctuary and were now on their way to Covenant. Deacon could see it just a little ways off, its walls sticking out awkwardly in the landscape.

“These are spy clothes, kiddo,” Deacon said. He had changed into a plaid shirt and jeans with his black wig and sunglasses set firmly in place. “Them being over two centuries old just means they match you.”

“Oh, haha,” She deadpanned. “But, seriously, why do I need to wear this? What if I get in a fight?”

“We're gathering information, eavesdropping, snooping, spying, not fighting,” He explained. “Can't really do that if everyone recognizes you as the Sole Survivor of Vault 111. If anything is going on, they'll be on guard. But if they think we're just normal settlers, they'll be less suspicious.”

“How do you know they'll recognize me?”

“Everyone will recognize you,” he said. “You have been in almost every single news story from Diamond City Radio for months and the Vaultsuit isn’t exactly conspicuous.”

“Oh.”

“And if things go south, there’s a pistol in the hidden pocket of your skirt.”

Sunny stopped and started feeling around the layers of her dress as Deacon kept walking. She let out a surprised noise when she pulled out a 5mm and 2 magazines out of an almost invisible seam on her side.

“This place is weird.”

“How did I not feel this when putting this on? How did you do that? Where did you get a dress with pockets?”

—---------------------------------

“What gave it away? The fact that everyone looks like they came from one of those old dentistry ads or the freaky questionnaire we were forced to take?

“They have lemonade, Deacon,” Sunny hissed. “Where did they get the lemons?!”

“Hush before someone hears you,” Deacon placed a hand over her mouth. Looking around, there wasn't anyone close enough to hear Sunny's harsh whispers. Most of the Covent's residents had long since gone to bed, but they had the excuse of Dogmeat to be out so late. Only one guard had stopped to question them and had accepted the explanation easily. Dogmeat had actually needed to do his business and had no problem marking the whole settlement as his territory, so that was probably why.

“You're supposed to be my kid, remember? Call me dad, or papa, or father or something like that.”

“No one is around to hear me, so I'm calling you Deacon,” Sunny said. “How did they believe you are my dad? You look way too young.”

“Thanks for the compliment, I moisturize.” Deacon joked. “And what happened to Mr. Deacon?”

“You lost that privilege that moment you called me ‘Sunshine’ to the guards,” she said seriously.

“Well, I can't exactly call you by your actual name, so I went with a nickname,” he shrugged. “Now seriously, did you find out anything?”

Sunny dug through her pocket and pulled out a note, passing it to him.

“I talked to a guy named Honest Dan. Apparently, he's investigating a missing caravan from Bunker Hill. A girl from a really important family was with them and her family hired him to find her. He thinks the people here have something to do with it and asked for help.”

Deacon glanced over the note himself, before raising an eyebrow.

“He asked you for help? Does he know who you are?”

“No, he said since me and you arrived after him, we are the only ones he knows for sure aren't involved. He just got to me first.”

Deacon nodded, stuffed the note in his pocket and pulled out a cigarette. As he lit it, Dogmeat trotted over and started sniffing along the bottom of the wall, looking for a spot he hadn't claimed as his territory.

“Trusting guy.”

“I have a trustworthy face,” Sunny said. “What can I say?”

Deacon stayed silent for a moment. While it was a good lead and need to be followed, he wasn't sure if he trusted it. No one who unironically called themselves “Honest Dan” was truly honest.

Sunny dug further into her pocket and pulled out another piece of paper.

“Also I got this.”

Deacon took it more incredulously. The paper had a random word scrawled across it with nothing else. He chewed on his cigarette and raised his eyebrow again, but with more judgment.

“Aaaannnndd what are these?”

Sunny smiled. “That's the pass code to the terminal inside that building with the cell over there. I took it from the shopkeeper.”

Deacon held back a laugh as he stuffed the note and key in his pocket with the other one.

“Damn. Now I see why Valentine hired you.”

Deacon woke up the next morning to Sunny already gone. A note had been stuck to his face that said, “helping Dan with that favor. Go on ahead.”

“Thanks. Hancock and Mac have been teaching me how to pickpocket…. Don't tell Codsworth.”

—---------------------------------

A bit too obvious for his liking but it was vague enough where no one would question it to much if they saw it. He wasn't sure what else Sunny was investigating, but she had done a good job on her own yesterday. She would be fine on her own for a bit.

He was further along one day into this investigation than he normally was in one week. Guess having an extra set of eyes and ears helps more than he thought. Deacon had seen how fast Sunny worked, but he didn't think it would apply to espionage. It was like the universe forgot to give her an off switch. She was constantly going, constantly doing, only stopping if she had to sleep or wait for something else. Maybe two centuries of sleep in an ice box just gave her an endless reserve of energy.

It took until roughly midday for an opening for him to get into the building. Until then, he had to make polite small talk with the settlers (They now thought Sunny’s name was Jessie, she was born when Deacon was a teenager and her mother had ran off with a guard from Goodneighbor) and drink a few cans of lemonade (Getting something non-irradiated to drink was a rare treat, he was taking advantage of it, mystery lemons be damned). It only took a minute of everyone else going to get their lunch and the guards looking the right way for him to slip inside. It was nicely decorated, with a bookshelf, couches and even a rug. If it wasn’t for the cell to the side, he would have thought it was just an office.

Deacon didn’t know how much time he had in here, so the terminal took priority. Punching in the password, the neon green letters sparked to life across the screen. The first thing available were personnel files on the settlers here. The details on what the settlement was doing was vague, but almost all of them mentioned a mission and a Compound of some sort. The second file was the important one. It was a draft of a message that he guessed was supposed to be sent soon and deleted off the terminal completely, but had been left unfinished for unknown reasons. It said that Mr.Huntley had to abort runs to the Compound at the Mystic Pines’ Pond. Whatever was going on here was centered around there.

“Deacon!”

“Fucking sh-!” Deacon jumped up and away in surprise as his foot caught on the rug and he landed with a rather harsh thud.

“What the fuck kid?” he whispered harshly. “Where did you even come from? I haven’t seen you anywhere all day.”

Sunny held up a stealthboy with an apologetic smile.

“Sorry,” she said. “I snuck out the front gate super early so no one could see me. I was trying to track where that caravan Honest Dan mentioned went. I didn’t wake you because I figured you wanted to stay and check out the terminal, but I had to grab my stealthboy on my way back to sneak back in. It only wore off just now. I’ve been reading over your shoulder for almost five minutes.”

Deacon sighed and pushed himself up, rubbing his bruised tailbone. “I kinda deserve that, I guess. Did you find the caravan?”

“Only what’s left of them,” Sunny pulled an empty can of Deezer’s lemonade out of her dress pocket. “I found them all dead just northeast of here. Looks like they were ambushed or something. I found this in their cooler so they were definitely here, but Amelia Stockton, the girl Honest Dan is looking for and was supposed to be with them, her body wasn’t there. So either someone moved her corpse within a very short timeframe for no reason or she’s still alive.”

“And I bet that she’s being held at whatever compound these creeps have at Mystic Pines’ Pond,” Deacon said.

“Should we tell Honest Dan or go in on our own?” she asked.

Deacon hesitated. Technically, he wasn’t supposed to engage right now. He was doing recon, gathering information. He had the information now, so he should report back to the Railroad and have another agent sent in that was equipped to handle whatever the problem was. Maybe even inform the Minutemen since he hadn’t found any confirmation that synths were being targeted here. He was already likely to get in trouble if someone (likely Glory) found out he had brought Sunny with him on a mission. He could only imagine how much trouble he would get in if he brought her into an actual fight, despite her being able to handle it.

“Deacon?” Sunny whispered, lips turning down in confusion. “We are going, right? She needs help, we can’t just leave her.”

Deacon looked into Sunny’s wide eyes. The kid was so trusting, but she didn’t know him. No one at the Railroad knew him outside of the work he did. Her stare felt like she couldn’t believe he was hesitating, like she knew he was supposed to help. Maybe she only trusted him because he was part of the Railroad, but something in him nagged to show that she was right. Deacon wasn’t sure if anyone had ever just… assumed he was a good guy. Even other agents were weary of his secretive ways and lying tongue. It took years for most to understand that even if he held his cards close to his chest, he was trying to do the right thing.

Sunny seemed to immediately get that and he was grateful for it.

Deacon had formed an idea in his head on what the Compound looked like. Guards, obviously. Probably a bunch of chems and booze everywhere. None of the files had stated what its "mission" exactly was, but if they were attacking caravans and kidnapping girls, he guessed some type of slaver operation, so some cages or cells were expected. While slaves weren't as common in the Commonwealth as they were in ,say, the Capital Wasteland, but there were more than a couple individuals that had the power to buy one, and there was enough demand to make a profit from transporting slaves out of the Commonwealth.

“Tell Dan,” he sighed. “I’m gonna need back up and you are staying hidden with that Stealthboy, got it?”

—---------------------------------

He wasn’t expecting the twisting mess of tunnels and pipes that twisted and turned at every step. When the head guard escorted him and Honest Dan through the Compound, (He could only assume Sunny was either following nearby or had snuck in further. There was no way for him to keep track of her with her Stealthboy.) he had seen evidence of some sort of experiments going on, with people as the test subjects. Whatever it was looked way more complicated than a slaver operation.

Dr. Chambers was the nutcase behind it all. She had made the weird entrance questionnaire they were made to answer in an effort to create a perfect way to identify synths and kill them off. She would use the questions to form a “baseline” and then torture her victims to get the results she wanted. She claimed that Amelia Stockton was a synth, and that even if she wasn’t, she knew too much about the operation to be released.

“I’ll make you a deal. If you let me dispose of Stockton’s synth and continue our work, I’ll match whatever reward you were offered.”

“I’ve had my fill of crazy on this contract,” Dan said with a sneer. “No deal.”

“Fortunately for me, I wasn’t talking to you.” Chamber replied coldly.

Dan opened his mouth to bark another insult, but was cut off by the sound of a gunshot cracking through the air. Chambers stumbled forward as the bullet went through her left shoulder, blood gushing out and staining her white lab coat. Sunny appeared up above her on the ledge, rage painting her face as her body shook. If it was from the anger or the force of the 5mm, Deacon couldn’t tell.

“FUCK YOU, ASSHOLE!” Sunny yelled, pulling the trigger again.

This shot was less steady, only grazing Chamber’s arm. Deacon and Dan pulled their own weapons out as quickly as they could, but the head guard had retaliated at the same time, shooting up at Sunny as Chambers swung with her gun at the two men. Sunny cried out in pain as it went through her right shoulder higher and farther from her chest than Chamber’s wound. She crumbled to the ground, dropping her gun as she tried to both hold the rail in front of her and press down on the wound.

The guard went down in only a few shots and Chambers even less.

“Get the kid.” Honest Dan said as soon as the fight was over. He reached into his pocket and tossed a stimpak to Deacon. “I’ll get Stockton and we can get out of this creepshow.”

Deacon took two steps at a time to get to Sunny. The kid was tough, she had taken hits before, but before she had either thick leather or hard combat armor over her vault suit to protect her from significant injuries. Her preference for sniping and stealth and her ever rotating sets of body guards had been even more protection. She had snapped bones, been horribly bruised from bullets and probably permanently messed up her shoulder from her rifle, but Deacon wasn’t sure if she ever had a bullet wound.

His first priority was getting the bullet out. Sunny had gotten herself into a sitting position, but was curled in on herself with both hands pressing against the wound. Snot and tears were dripping down her face as she tried to bite back whimpers and hiccups of pain. The pink dress had a blooming flower of red covering its top, ruining it forever. Deacon pushed on her uninjured shoulder as gently as he could to force her to sit up straight and give him access to the injury.

“Hold on a sec, kid.” Deacon assured her. “I’ll get you sorted as soon as I get the bullet out.”

“With what?!” Sunny cried in a mix of pain and anger.

“Pair of pliers.” he answered, digging through his pockets. The pliers were mostly used to pick locks on the rare occasion he needed to, but they should work.

“Is it gonna hurt?”

Deacon looked into Sunny’s eyes, hoping to invoke the same trust from earlier through his sunglasses.

“Yeah, it’s gonna hurt, but I can’t give you a stimpak until we get it out. Can’t exactly return you to the Minutemen with an extra pound of metal in ya.”

“Not the time for jo-AAHHK!” Deacon had brought the old pliers into Sunny’s wound, touching raw nerves as he tried to find the bullet embedded in her flesh.

The hardest part was getting a grip on the bullet because it was so slippery from blood and Sunny kept squirming in pain. Once Deacon had pulled the hunk of metal out of the pre-teen, it was easy to inject her with a stimpak and watch as the flesh and skin knitted itself back together. Sunny had stayed in the same spot as Deacon gathered files from the nearby terminal, only forcing herself up once he was finished. Deacon wasn’t sure why no more guards had come in following the gunshots, but he didn’t intend to stick around and find out.

“Sorry,” he said, “Had to distract you to get these in. It’s still gonna hurt so brace yourself.”

—---------------------------------

Sunny stayed close to Deacon, Honest Dan and Amelia as they exited. Once back in the open air, Dan had dropped a sizable number of caps in his hand, telling the pair to stay safe before leaving to escort Amelia back to Bunker Hill. Sunny stayed silent and near even once they were left alone and walking back to get their supplies from the cache. She let out an occasional groan or whimper of pain from the residual pain from the now closed wound and stimpak shot.

They were about halfway to the cache when she finally spoke.

“Are you mad?”

Deacon wasn’t mad. He was thinking. Covenant was a much bigger issue than anyone thought it was going to be and he would have to report that the whole town was an operation to capture synths. Considering how many settlers had likely become victims to Chamber’s crazy operation, it was an issue for both the Minutemen and the Railroad. While he could easily omit that Sunny was there when sending intel to just the Railroad, he couldn’t as easily avoid it in a report that mobilized action against a whole settlement.

He wasn’t mad though. He appreciated the passion and drive for action. The Railroad needed that. Sunny just needed to learn to control her impulses, to keep that passion under wraps when the situation called for it. She wouldn’t be the first agent to be shot on a mission and she wouldn’t be the last. She had back up when she was down and, overall, everything went as well as he could have hoped for.

“Nope,” Deacon said. “Just surprised how angry you got.”

“Yeah, it’s just….its seems like so many people are treating other people like they don’t matter. Like only people just like them are people and the rest are just…expendable. VaultTec did it, the Brotherhood does it, the Institute does it, I guess all my anger just came out at once.”

Deacon laughed. “Happens to the best of us, Sunny. Just means you have a heart. You did good, we just need to work on keeping a cool head for next time.”

“Really?” she brightened. “Does that mean you won’t tell Codsworth and Mr. Preston I got myself shot?”

“Oh, no. I’m definitely telling them.”

Sunny’s face immediately fell in fear. “Come on!”

“No dice, kid. You got to face the consequences of your actions.”

“Vhat are you doing here? Vhen do you get here?!” Kurt pointed an accusing finger at her. He was in his actual form, with blue skin, tail, connected fingers and yellow eyes. He was also in X-men uniform so Essence guessed that the organization somehow was able to take him in the middle of battle. A bolder move than her own kidnapping.

She had elected to stay at the Brotherhood boarding house for the evening as her presence was not required, and she saw no logic in standing around doing nothing while her teammates caused trouble. She had planned to sit on the couch and watch her shows that Pietro never would let her finish when he was around. She had seen no reason to use her power and go through all the possible outcomes that decision would bring, nor did she have any vision that forced itself on her to warn her of large, armed soldiers breaking down the door and throwing her in the back of a van like a bad action movie.

So Essence only had a baggie hoodie and comfy shorts to protect her from the cold, metal floor and walls of the cell. At least Kurt had fur.

“I was taken, same as you. I have only been here for roughly an hour.”

“Right,” he glared. “They were able to surprise zee girl who sees everysing. Like I believe zat.”

“Wheather or not you believe it, it is what happened. You are aware my powers don't work like that. I see every possible outcome for specific events. I have to actively use it to find out the outcome I'm searching for, and it would be ridiculous to use it on basic things that only require logic and should only have one outcome. It would be a waste of my time, energy, and brainpower.”

Kurt raised a eyebrow. “Only one outcome?”

Essence shrugged, “Would you expect watching Power Rangers at home would lead to being kidnapped?”

“Vair enough.”

An awkward silence stretched between them, made no better by the fact Essence didn't seem to realize it. She had been sitting down on the cell floor, with her legs and feet tucked into her hoodie in an attempt to protect her bare feet from the cold steel. She had also pulled her arms in for similar reason, giving her a funny shape of a ball with a head. Her passive face made it even more ridiculous looking. If Kurt wasn't so panicked, he would have laughed.

But he couldn't find any humor in the situation. He had been taken from the team mid-fight, he couldn't teleport out, and he was stuck with the creepiest member of the Brotherhood staring him down as he tried to think of a way out.

No, Essence wasn't the creepiest member of the Brotherhood. Toad took that spot. She just was…unnerving. She didn't smile or frown or laugh or yell or anything that people did to show emotion. Her face was blank 100% of the time. Truly blank, not blank in the way movies or TV shows showed where it just looked like suppressed anger or sadness. It lacked any emotion that would suggest Essence was alive. She hardly spoke at all at school, only speaking when answering a question and giving two to three word responses when spoken to.

This was the most Kurt had ever heard in her speak at all.

Her lack of emotional reaction had even started a rumor around school that she was secretly a robot. An interesting rumor to be sure, but Kurt knew the truth. Essence was a mutant, same as him. She bled and fought as a Brotherhood mutant, using her clairvoyance to make plans, perfect fights and avoid major disasters. While her power wasn't really made for fighting like Scott's or Evan's, she could still throw a decent punch. It was the way she fought that unnerved him. Essence didn't talk, or snap, or make any sort of comment when fighting, just like at school. All the other Brotherhood members couldn't shut up to save their lives and even he would admit the X-men sometimes got too chatty when on a mission. Essence only gave out grunts of exertion or pain when fighting, and that was the most you would get. It gave a measure of coldness and focus that made her seem more threatening than the others, despite her being probably the weakest physically of the Brotherhood.

So, yes, Essence wasn't creepy, but she was just unnerving enough that Kurt didn't want to be left alone in a room with her.

“You should sit down,” Essence said, turning to stare at the wall. “Save your energy.”

Kurt really didn't want to, but he was also exhausted. He had fought and struggled all the way to this cell, trying to get away. The adrenaline had helped out at the time, but now he felt drained.

He slumped down next to Essence and closed his eyes, trying to will his heart to calm down and stop thundering in his chest.

“We won't be stuck in here forever. Someone will come to save us.”

Nearly snapping his neck to glare at her again, Kurt was about on his last nerve. “ And how vould you know? You're vearing a collar the same as me!”

“Because your team has two of the most powerful telepaths in the world, a man who can track like a bloodhound, and the will power to never give up looking for you,” Essence stated it like it was a fact. “And for as dumb and unobservant as my team is sometimes, they will flatten this place to the ground once they find it to get to me.”

“How can you be so calm about vis?!” Kurt yelled. He was making much more noise than he was before and he was sure the guards would eventually come to investigate, but he couldn’t find himself to care.“You don't know vat vey could be planning! Maybe they already took everyone and now vey are going to cut us all up into little pieces! Or vey could sell us to vee highest bidder! Or-”

“Do not mistake my lack of showing emotion for not having any.” Essence interrupted, shoving her hand over his mouth. “Right now, I'm experiencing large amounts of terror and panic after being ripped away from my home. I have no idea what these men plan to do to me or what they will do if I try to escape. I am in the same amount of danger as you are and I am the farthest thing from calm at this moment, so don't act like I am the reason we're stuck here.”

Kurt wasn't…he wasn't really expecting that. He expected more cold logic, not frustration. He didn't really think Essence could feel frustrated, much less scared. He got that they were technically in the same amount of danger, but her lack of panic made her feel so detached from it.

Her hand was removed from his mouth easily as he gently pulled her wrist down in shock. “You? Are scared?”

“I am in a state of utter terror and fear, yes.”

“You don't really…look like it.”

“A sentence I have heard a billion times over my life. I have always had difficulty emoting, especially in my face.”

The explanation made more sense than Kurt expected. He was often told he wore his heart on his sleeve, giving away every emotion he felt with a smile or scowl. He guessed it only made sense that someone could have the opposite problem.

“I never considered zat you could feel anysing,” he murmured.

Essence stared at him and Kurt realized how incredibly rude that sounded.

“I mean-I didn't mean I sought-I just didn't”

Essence put her other hand over his mouth again, stopping his stutter. “Yes, I feel just the same as everyone else does. I feel joy, sadness, anger, fear, disgust, love,hurt, everything you do. My face and tone are just unable to convey it. Almost everyone in my life has made the same assumption you have, so there is no use in apologizing. I already figured that you didn't know.”

That actually explained quite a lot now that he thought about it. He had seen Essence around town reading novels, listening to music, eating ice cream, and shopping with the other Brotherhood members. It wouldn't make sense for her to do anything if she had no opinion on those things. She had to choose to do them because she liked to.

Kurt pulled away from her hand and leaned his head against the wall, closing his eyes again. “I'm sorry, but I'm used to you not speaking and just staring vile trying to punch me in the face. My soughts did not go farther zan avoiding getting punched.”

“That is true, but you also try to punch me,” Essence pointed out. “It's what we do when we are on the clock.”

That had to be a poor first attempt at a joke. “Are you saying zat the Brotherhood is a…job for you?”

“Yes, though I get paid in room and board rather than money, so I guess referring to it as an internship would be more appropriate.”

“Zen vouldn't it be better with the X-men? Vhy vould you work with zem? Zhey hardly act like a team! I'm not even sure zey like each other.”

“I like them.”

“But zey are so cruel! Zey act-”

Essence slapped her hand over his mouth again. “You need to stop yelling so much. At this point the guards will come back and beat us just for some peace and quiet. We still don't know what they're planning to do with us, remember?”

Kurt gave a nod, as if he forgot of the danger they were in.

“Now I am going to remove my hand for the final time and I will explain because I don't want you yelling anymore. Do you understand?”

Another nod.

“Okay.” She pulled her hand away. “Are you going to yell again?”

“No.”

“Good.”

Sliding her arms back through her sleeves, she placed her hands on knees. “ Yes, you are right. My team can be cruel. They are mean, and spiteful, and dumb, and sometimes not the best smelling.”

Kurt gave a weak chuckle at that comment but let her continue.

“But they can be good,” Essence said. “They can be nice. They are nice to me. Pietro still tells me his terrible jokes even if he knows I won't laugh. Fred doesn't get mad when I warn him about things I shouldn't know. Todd plays video games with me even if I'm terrible at them. Wanda asks me about my interests, and we talk about music. Lance and I watch every new episode of Masterchef together despite him always complaining about it.”

The cold steel of the floor hit the back of her knees as she stuck out her legs. Little scars, cuts and bruises covered them. It came with the territory of being a Brotherhood member, constantly fighting X-men and roughhousing with each other. But beyond the newer injuries, beyond healed skin and bone, there were her wounds that just refused to heal.

“I feel like they actually like me when I'm with them. I can live with the guilt of being the bad guy with them.”

Kurt cringed. The need to be liked was understandable. He thinks everyone has that want. He had found a family and acceptance with the X-men. Someone finding that in the Brotherhood wasn't too entirely out of the realm of possibility.

Silence stretched around them again, but less awkward now as Kurt mulled over her words. He never really gave much thought to the Brotherhood teens outside of being bullies and his enemies, so Essence had been lumped in with them as well. She was evil and a troublemaker just like the rest of them but now Kurt tried to mentally go over their very limited interactions outside of battle.

Essence was normally spotted alongside other Brotherhood members and was there whenever they got in trouble, but Kurt now had trouble remembering if she was ever actually involved in any of their pranks, bullying or jokes. She was just always in the general area. She had been partnered in a group project with Kitty one time, but according to her the project went perfectly fine.

Overall, he couldn't remember her doing anything that would be considered bad outside of her “job”.

“Do you hate me for being part of the Brotherhood?”

Kurt couldn't tell what her thoughts or feelings were behind that question. If anyone else asked him before today he would have said yes. He hated all the Brotherhood. They were bullies at school, and criminals outside of it. They hadn't done anything to deserve his sympathy, especially since Rouge was now an X-man.

But he kinda felt like a jerk for thinking that.

“I don't hate you.”

“.....I don't hate you either.”

“Do vee still have to fight each other?”

“Absolutely. You're an X-man, and I'm Brotherhood. We have conflicting goals. We have to fight when working.”

“Do vee have to fight outside of zat?”

“Of course not. That would be a waste of time and energy.”

“.......Vere you telling zee truth about vatching Power Rangers?”

“ Yes. The yellow ranger is my favorite.”

—------------------

“Somehow, I underestimated the amount of fire involved when I imagined you rescuing me.”

“Would you rather we left you there?”

“No, I am appreciative. Just confused on how you were able to destroy half the facility when we were in the other half?”

Lance threw his hands up in exasperation. “Blame one eye over there! He and the rest of the X-dorks nearly blew up all of us running in like they are going to war!”

“So it was a natural earthquake shaking the foundation then?”

Toad laughed at Essence's reply before Lance smacked his head in retaliation. Both of the teams had shown up near simultaneously to rescue their kidnapped friends and while both Kurt and Essence were unharmed, half the building had collapsed in the issuing battle and the rest was currently burning before their very eyes.

She wasn't sure where exactly they were at. The building itself looked like a prison (at least before it was destroyed) that was dropped right in the middle of an overly large parking lot. It wouldn't have been so strange if it were for the trees surrounding the area from all sides, and it looked like only a thin dirt road was the way in and out. She had trouble believing this place had gone unnoticed in the state of New York, but she didn't feel like the drive here had taken long enough to leave the state.

The X-men's jet (They had a name for it, she just never bothered to remember) suggested she was very wrong in her assessment of the passage of time. How her team got here Essence had no idea, but the jet seemed to have transported most of the X-men here in their rescue mission for Kurt. Currently, he was being checked over injuries by the Beast.

“While standing and watching this place turn to ashes is fun and all, we do need to do something about this,” said Pietro, yanking on the back of the collar still on Essence's neck and nearly knocking her over. “Fred, you think you can snap it off her?”

Oh, no no no. Fred was talented in many things, despite what many people believed, but was as delicate as a bull in a china shop. He broke doors, silverware, heavy furniture and everything in between on a near daily basis. And Essence had not forgotten how her friend had nearly killed Scott and Rogue when he kidnapped Jean (which she still gave him crap for, as it was a crime that had nothing to do with their jobs as Brotherhood members. If he was going to kidnap anyone, it should have been on orders to receive information or ransom.)

Essence was the second smallest of the Brotherhood, only having a single inch on Todd if he stood up straight for once in his life and Fred's hand could easily cover her entire face. Any mistake on his part could crush her windpipe or snap her neck. She would rather live with the collar.

Fred stepped forward as Essence stepped back, hands raised in preparation to attempt grabbing the collar before Wanda blocked him with her arm and pulled the younger teen closer to glare at the device around her neck.

“We just rescued her. How about we don't immediately kill her?” She snarled. “Hold still.”

Wanda's powers flicked through the collar and seemed to short circuit it completely. It fell off into the ground with a pathetic clunk before bursting into flames.

“I would have been careful.” Fred protested.

“Doesn't matter. Let's go.” Wanda deadpanned. “Mystique and Dad don't know we are here and it's best if we keep it that way.”

“Thank you, Wanda.” Essence said. “I agree that we should head back home soon, but would you all allow me one moment before we go?”

Pietro gave out a long, dramatic groan. “Uuuuuuuuuuuggggggggghhhhh. Fine. Just be quick before we leave you to walk by yourself.”

Essence quickly turned on her heel and walked toward the X-men's jet. The two teams had avoided each other in battle and had stood a good couple of meters away from each other as they awkwardly refused to acknowledge each other's presence.

Kurt seemed to be considered free of injury, and Beast was now using a set of tools in an attempt to remove his suppression collar. Using her own mutation, Essence looked over the possible immediate outcomes of the conversation they were about to have. Two scenarios involved him refusing to acknowledge their conversation at all (if Wolverine decided that he had to listen in on the conversation or pulled him away.) One scenario of him getting mad at her (If her team decides to follow her, very unlikely.) 4 scenarios of an awkward handshake and Kurt declaring that he was her friend now. Three scenarios of Scott giving him a noogie following said declaration.

Knowing her team was unlikely to follow her and Wolverine had already disappeared into the jet, Essence approached Kurt from behind as Beast clicked the collar off with ease.

“Excuse me, Kurt. Do you have a moment?”

Kurt jumped, having now seen her and not expecting to see her approach him at all. He quickly recovered this time and looked to his teacher for permission. Beast gave a knowing smile as he bagged up his tools.

“We don't need to leave just yet. I'll give you two some privacy.” He agreed as he stepped away.

Kurt blushed at the insinuation as Essence watched Beast disappear into the jet. She understood what the older man was implying, but since it wasn't true, she didn't understand why Kurt was getting worked up over it. Even if it was embarrassing, acting like it was would only add more ammo for later.

“Thank you for our conversation earlier in the cell,” Essence said, holding out her hand. “I rarely have people willing to listen to my reasoning and explanations, and even more rarely do I have them accept it. I wish more people were as accepting as you, and I ask that you never lose that feature in the future.”

“Haha, zank you,” Kurt replied, scratching his head in embarrassment at the compliment. He took her hand and gave it a very enthusiastic shake. “If you ever vant to hangout at like…I don't know…zee comic book store or zee arcade, feel free to call!”

“Of course. I will also try to get my team to leave you and your friends alone more often at school, though that will likely be largely ineffective until I can change the locks to the house and lock them out as punishment.”

Kurt's tail covered his mouth as he held back the barking laugh from the mental image. “Zat's alright. I vill see you around Essence.”

“Goodbye, Kurt.”

She returned to her team, satisfied with the conversation and slightly dreading how they were supposed to get home. Kurt smiled, happy with the growth of his friend group but tired from the events of the day.

Scott came up behind Kurt with a smug grin. He had seen the whole thing from the Quinnjet. In fact, all the teens had. Hank had said that he would give them privacy, but the teens made no such promise and had gladly eavesdropped on the conversation. Kitty had complained that they hadn't discussed anything gossip worthy, but Scott was proud of his friend.

Trapping Kurt in a headlock, Scott rubbed his knuckles against his head.

“Hey!”

“Good job, man,” Scott said. “Never thought I'd see the day someone was able to break through the robot's shell.”

“She is not a robot,” Kurt protested. “Essence is just…non-expressive. She's actually pretty nice.”

Scott hummed non-committally, not really believing Kurt. Didn't matter. If Kurt's new-found friendship with Essence got her to leave the Brotherhood and stop being a threat, he won't interfere for now.

The market itself was only open when the sun was up, as temperatures quickly dropped at night and were too cold for any species not native. Vivian had asked Dezen to be ready to leave the ship one earth hour before sunrise, so it would be open by the time they walked there. He had followed the instructions to the letter, but she was still in her room 15 minutes after the agreed time.

“I'm coming!”

Vivian burst through her door with her purple hair sticking out like a Quretti's mane. A smear of her tooth cleaner was across her face as she furiously brushed her teeth in a rushed-panic.

“Sorry, alarm didn’t go off, come on in!” she attempted to say, though it came out as, “Thorry, tharth mith mth oth, moth oth mn!” through her toothbrush.

Dezen stepped into her quarters to wait as Vivian rushed back to the refresher. While it was normally cozy with soft blankets, plush pillows, and stuffed fake animals, it was very cluttered today. A random assortment of clothes littered the floor and the small couch. Her bed was unmade with a backpack spilling its contents all over. Vivian was clearly in a rush this morning.

“Should we wait and go tomorrow? I’m not sure this market is worth such distress.”

“No!” she spat out the paste and swished around some water in her mouth, spitting again before speaking. “All the good stuff will be sold by then! People from all around the galaxy come to this thing and I wanna make sure we can get everything we want! Like pasta and chips and cakes and burgers and-”

“Forgive me for interrupting, but you regularly make those foods. Why do we need to go to the market for those?” Dezen sat down on the couch, squishing a plush of an earth animal he didn't know the name of. Vivian started furiously rubbing a white cream on her face.

“Yeah, but I'm not, like, a professional at it. It's a hobby. The food there is made by professionals and you can really taste the difference. Trust me, you'll love it.”

Dezen pouted. But I love when you make it. You said you make it with love. I don't know how an emotion is an ingredient, but I swear it makes it taste better.

She noticed the pout and laughed. “I'm glad you like my cooking, but it will be fun, i'm sure. Plus, they have things that aren't food, like clothes and furniture and stuff.”

Vivian finished with her face routine and pulled a brush through her hair, flattening it into the shape Dezen was more used to seeing. He watched with awe and curiosity as individual strands pulled and bounced into place.

“Does that not hurt?” He asked without thinking. He had watched her do this ritual regularly, especially after movie nights where she cuddled up to him and messed up her hair.

“What?” She said, splitting her hair into section to pull half of it into bunches on top of her head.

“The…brushing and…pulling and tying up. It is connected to your head and it looks like the process pulls quite a bit from your scalp.”

“Oh, you mean my hairbrush?” She looked down out the tool in her hand before smiling at him. “Yeah it can hurt a little if it's tangled, and some does get pulled out, but I can't exactly skip doing it.”

“Why not? Plenty of mammalian species use their tongues to groom. From my understanding, most mammals on Earth do the same.”

Vivian snickered at the thought, finishing her tying the last of her hair and moved on to a familiar jar of purple face paint. Dezen couldn't stop the grin spreading on his face as she carefully spread it on her eyelids.

“Yeah, like I can lick the back of my head. But in all seriousness, if I didn't brush it, it would get all matted and damaged. I wouldn't be able to wash it, and it would build up oil and dirt and just be gross. I've heard of some people's hair even growing mold.”

Dezen pulled a face, grossed out at the idea.

“Not every human brushes their hair every day,” She continued. “My roommate back in college has these super tight curls, and brushing them doesn't have the same effect as it does for my hair. She had a whole different routine and put them in braids and cornrows all the time. I don't know the exact reasons why, but curly hair like that needs a different type of care than straight hair.”

Dezen nodded sagely.

“Kaxians have something similar. Some of us have less moisture in our scales, which causes our shed skin to come off in patches rather than in one whole. It's very uncomfortable, so there are a multitude of creams available to help alleviate the pain.”

“Sounds more like our skin than our hair, but same idea,” Vivian replied, shoveling the contents of the backpack back in. “But that's enough of a biology lesson. Let's hit the road!”

—-------------------

“Look! They have Renam skewers!”

“I do not know what those are.”

“I don't either!”

Vivian ran off to get in line for the skewers, leaving Dezen next to a booth full of different planetary maps. They had been at the market for a few hours and Vivian had collected a hull of art, plush animals, and other various small items. It was probably a good time to eat another meal as they only had ration bars for breakfast.

Vivian called them “granola bars, but if they were made from sadness instead of nuts.”

A sudden sharp pain stabbed through the tip of his tail. Dezen flared his scales in pain and instinctively shook his body to get rid of the irritant.

“Agggggh!”

“Kloi no!”

Another Kaxian rushed to pick up the hatchling using Dezen's tail as a chewtoy.He was pretty sure he saw a small amount of blood on the pinpricks she left behind. Little fangs poked out as the hatchling gurgled in joy in her mischief, even as she was lifted up.

“I am so sorry. She just got her fangs and my sister keeps just letting her bite whatever and whoever she wants so she thinks taking a chunk out of someone's tail is the best way to meet new people.”

Dezen gave the best reassuring smile he could through the pain. Most fangs didn't grow in until they were a youngling, but the first set always came in super sharp and at just the right age where they had the desire to chew on everything. He could not blame the hatchling for not knowing better, but it still hurt.

“I understand,” he said as he rubbed his tail. “Every hatchling goes through a phase of biting. I know I did.”

“Still feels like a tiny knife through the flesh though, always able to find the soft spots instead of any hard scales.” the fellow Kaxian agreed before giving a mock glare to Kloi. “We don't bite people! That's mean! How would you like it if Uncle Beq bit your tail? I could take off the entire thing if I wanted to.”

She laughed, uncaring of the scolding. “Uncle Beq” must have been dealing with her biting for a long while.

“She'll never listen to me,” he dramatically sighed. “I'm Beqla, and this is my niece, Kloi. I wasn't expecting to see another Kaxian at the market.”

Dezen gave him a typical greeting and his own name. “Niether was I. My ship is being inspected, so a crewmate and I decided to take advantage and enjoy the market.”

“My family is just here visiting. I wanted to give my parents and sister a break from watching Kloi, so I decided to take her here while they went to some hot springs nearby.”

“I was not aware there were hot springs on this planet. You would think they would advertise it for tourists.”

“Naah. Too many species nowadays aren't comfortable with the idea. The only time tourists hear about it is if a local recommends it.”

“I won-”

“I got the skewers!” Vivian returned holding two skewers. “Turns out a Renam is a type of snake thing from the horseshoe galaxy, who knew?”

She happily handed one skewer to Dezen, who inspected the orange meat closely. “Who are your new friends?”

“I am Beqla and this is Kloi,” Kloi was attempting to squirm out of Beqla's hold, likely wanting to continue her chewing reign of terror. “You must be Dezen's crewmate. I've never met a human before. One would think your people were myths with the stories they tell.”

“Yeah, we get that a lot. We are pretty spread out when not on Earth,but there should be quite a few here from what I heard. I assure you those tales don't make us sound nearly as weird as we really are.”

Beq laughed at the self-dig, and Kloi wanted to be in on the funny joke that happened. She leaned back as far as he would let her and stared at Vivian with wide eyes.

“Choooooo!”

“Awww aren't you the cutest thing! Dezen, why didn't you tell me Kaxian babies were so adorable?” Vivian cooed. “Hello, sweetheart, I bet you're stealing everyone's hearts today with those beautiful eyes! I know you took mine!”

“Kaaaa!”

“And she will take some skin as well if you don't move your hand farther back,” Dezen warned. “She has already bitten my tail and drawn blood.”

“Guess some truths are universal.” Vivian waved off the concern. “I bit my brother all the time in retaliation for messing with me, at least until I got big enough to start punching.”

At the moment, Kloi decided to add humans to the list of things she used as a chew toy and chomped down on Vivian's too close fingers.

“AAAAAAAHHHHH!”

“VIVIAN!”

“KLOI!”

—---------------------------

“And what did we learn?”

“Kaxian baby teeth are much sharper than human baby teeth. And hurt much, much worse. So much worse.”

Kloi had broken through Vivian's much softer skin and drawn more blood than she had from Dezen. After a multitude of apologies, Beq had decided that Kloi had injured enough people at the market and left. Dezen dutifully spread med-gel on his friend's knuckles and covered them in a series of colorful bandages over the wounds as she ate her skewer and cried.

“You are lucky she decided you taste bad. If she decided to latch on, your fingers could have been shredded in the process of getting her off.”

“But she was so cute! Kloi didn't mean any harm! She was just curious!”

“She could have crushed your fingers.”

“Still cute. You should show me your baby photos later!”

Dezen rolled his eyes. Vivian was not one to let an injury get her down, and he was not surprised she still thought Kaxian hatchlings were cute. That did not mean he wasn't exasperated by her carelessness.

“I will show you every photo if you promise to be more careful. You are much…squishier than other species.” Dezen grabbed her face and smushed her cheeks together, taking in Vivian's gentle human features. “I do not enjoy seeing you hurt.

Vivian smiled the best she could through her face being squeezed. “ I promise. You ain't getting rid of me that easily.”

At this, she turned her head in his hands and pressed her nose and mouth to his palm. Not quite the kisses he had seen in human movies, but not a gesture of friendship he had seen before. The best he could describe it is when a small pet showed affection to their owner by smashing up against them.

But Vivian was a human, not a pet, and she was so lovely in a way that went beyond galaxies for Dezen.

“Come on. There are more craft booths down this aisle.”

Vivian pulled away and headed back towards the booths, leaving Dezen there standing in a daze. He looked down at his palm and brushed his finger over where she was. He could still feel the ghost of her breath.

“Come on, Dezen! I don't wanna get separated in this huge crowd!”

“Co-coming!”

—-------------------------

There were a great multitude of booths at the market, and Dezen now found himself with a few of his own purchases. Small things that he would admit he didn't need, but a few luxuries never hurt anyone as far as he was concerned.

“Anything caught your eye?” the human seller asked.

This booth was filled with necklaces, rings, bracelets, headpieces, and all kinds of jewelry. Dezen himself wasn't much of a jewelry person himself, as it got in the way of maintenance when working, but Vivian could enjoy a few shiny pieces working in communications. Currently, she had metal rings in her ears, though the lobes were not pierced like the seller's were. Instead they simply clipped around the middle edge of the ear to appear like it was pierced. Dezen had seen her take them on and off plenty of times and had once asked her about the little cuffs she wore.

“Ear piercings are super popular back on Earth, and I had some when I was little,” she said. “But I got them caught on a magnet of all things as a kid and nearly ripped my earlobe in two. Never could stomach the idea of getting another piercing after that, so I just use these instead!”

Dezen wouldn't want to either.

Vivian gave a non-committal hum to the seller as she scanned through the jewelry. She had already bought so much, she needed to be more careful on what she spent if she didn't want to fly through her budget and not have any money left for dinner.

“Oh, can I look at those?”

The seller took down two smaller pieces and handed them to Vivian without another word. They appeared to be a set, both made of woven strings of black, pink, purple, blue, and white, creating a nebulous effect. A charm in the shape of the Earth's crescent moon hung from one and the other had a star hanging from it.

“Bracelets?”

“Yeah, are they cute?” Vivian beamed. “And they are made of string so you could still wear it to work and it will just snap if it gets caught on anything! I'll take these, please.”

Vivian handed off the credits to the seller and immediately removed the bracelets from their cardboard holder. She tied the moon one around his wrist, then tied the star one around her own.

“There! Now, we match even more.”

Dezen tilted his head the same way she did when confused.

“I believe you got them mixed up. Shouldn't you receive the one with the Earth moon and I take the star?”

“Nope,” She said. “ The moon is supposed to remind you of your favorite human and where she came from. The star is supposed to remind me that I get to travel the stars with the best Kaxian in the galaxy! Its tradition from all over earth to share jewelry with the people you care about, so you never forget themm”

Dezen froze for the second time that day, both from her words and the gesture. She was going to be the death of him.

Robert Joseph MacCready fully believed he would have died if he hadn’t had Little Lamplight as a kid. He had learned and perfected how to shoot there, he learned to lead and work with others, and he could keep his cool in dangerous situations that left others crapping their pants. He treasured the home he could never go back to in his heart, though he would never say that out loud.

There were a lot of places he loved that he couldn’t go back to. Little Lamplight, the farm, anywhere Duncan was right now. It sucked being away from that last one, but it was for the best. Until he could get in Med-Tek, RJ had to keep sending money for his continued care.

There wouldn't be any money to send if he didn't get a job soon. Wintlock and Barlow were making that pretty difficult though. They scared off any potential jobs with threats of violence and bodily harm. If that didn't work, actual violence seemed to do the trick.

The two were here right now, yacking up a storm and being a giant headache for the gun for hire. He had heard their threats a hundred times and he had heard them a thousand times from others before them. Maybe if they threated him with something new, like, tying him up to a dock so birds can peck his eyes out or something. Then he would pay attention. But no, it was all gunfire and them hunting him down and stabbing him in the back and all that sort of stuff. He came up with more creative threats when he was going through puberty.

The two knuckleheads finally seemed to exhaust themselves and leave him alone for today. RJ leaned his head back against his seat, tired of his situation.

As cliche as their threats were, they weren't idle ones. Eventually they would get fed up with scaring off his clientele and decide to just off him. While he could outshoot any of them, he was sure, RJ knew he didn't have the bullets or armor needed to take on the whole group in an ambush.

And that's what gunners did best. Ambushes.

“Ruff!”

RJ opened his eyes and looked down, frowning.

There was a dog in here. Why was a dog in here?

It had to belong to someone. The doorman wouldn't just let any random stray in. Besides, the pooch looked way too well cared for. His fur was all brushed and clean. There was a neat little red bandana tied around his neck with a pair of goggles for his eyes. He even had a set of dog armor painted a Minuteman blue.

Oh, and the teddy bear he held in his mouth. RJ had seen fistfights break out between toddlers over those things, so whichever kid gave him that really loved this dog.

“Uuuuuhhhh, hi?”

The dog set the bear on RJ's lap. Guess he wanted to play. The Lone Wanderer had brought her dog a few times when RJ was still the Mayor of Little Lamplight. She was one of the few mungos allowed in the town, though she could only stay overnight on a special occasion. When she did, the mutt would be showered in pets, jugs, cuddles, and playtime by all of the less reserved Lamplighters. He even snuck in a pet and a hug on occasion whenever no one was looking. He hoped her and her dog were doing good, wherever they are.

Anyone who could put up with foul-mouthed, preteen MacCready deserved a good ending.

This dog was more impatient than Lone's dog, shoving the plush further up his lap using its snout. Rj guessed he wasn't getting out of this one. He picked up the slightly damp bear and tossed it across the room. The dog's feet nearly slipped out from under himself as the canine spun around to chase after the teddy.

He threw the bear back and forth a few times, watching the dog nearly trip over himself running after it. It was a nice activity to forget about how royally screwed he was if he didn’t find a job soon. He changed directions slightly, throwing the plush at the door. It bounced off the door into the hallway and disappeared out of sight, the dog disappearing along with it.

A solid thud echoed down into the room, followed by a high pitched voice shouting, “OW! DOGMEAT!”

Whoops. Looks like he did have an owner.

The dog came trotting back, teddy in mouth, seemingly uncaring of whomever he just knocked down. A kid followed close behind, an annoyed expression on her face as she rubbed her tailbone in pain. RJ lifted his eyebrows in surprise as he took a sip of beer, while he didn’t think a dog would be allowed in, he knew a kid would normally never be let in.

He took note of the important features of the kid. Vault suit and too big combat armor, sniper rifle, two twin braids, and an impressive height for her age. RJ would bet good money this was the “Sole Survivor” kid he has been hearing so much about over the radio. Only reason he could think of why any child would come to the Third Rail.

“I’m guessing you were the one to throw that?” she asked, sounding more annoyed than angry.

“Yep,” he answered, popping the p. “And I guess you’re his owner?”

“Yep,” she mimicked, “Sorry if he was bothering you Mr. MacCready. He normally doesn’t wander that far from me.”

“Nah, it’s alright, kid, he didn’t do anything. I’m just surprised either of you were allowed in.”

The girl smiled sheepishly as she kneeled down to pet Dogmeat, who decided he had enough of fetch and was now just lying down lazily at her feet. “Ham warned me that he better not see me take even a sniff of booze, or he would throw me out and never let me back in,” she shrugged. “Since I normally come here for business, it hasn’t been a problem yet.” 

What business could the Sole Survivor have in the Third Rail? According to the Radio, she worked all over the place. Minutemen, Brotherhood of Steel, Detective Valentine in Diamond City, kid was seen everywhere with everyone, but Goodneighbor held its own pretty well. There wasn’t a need for Minutemen patrols, and everyone would rather shoot their own foot than live under the Brotherhood’s rules. Maybe a lead for Valentine? He dealt with missing person’s all the time, and if he wanted to disappear, RJ would stop by Goodneighbor.

“What kind of business? You sellin’ girl scout cookies?” He joked. No need to poke his nose where it doesn’t belong if he’s not getting paid, but some light teasing on the kid couldn’t hurt.

Her smile turned into an annoyed frown again. “No, but I’ll have you know I was a Junior Scout.” RJ had no idea what that was. She stood up and pulled her duffle bag around to her front. “I am here on Minuteman business.” Unzipping her bag, she dug around in it a bit before pulling out a large tin and setting it on the table between them. It rattled from what sounded like a large amount of caps.

Now RJ had to poke his nose where he didn’t belong. Sitting up closer, he narrowed his eyes at the Sole survivor and slowly pulled the tin closer. Popping the lid off, his suspicions were confirmed.

“Didn’t know that the Minutemen were hiring mercenaries now.”

“Typically, we don’t.” she replied. “But we need another sniper for this next mission. A good one. I can’t cover the area on my own, and from what I heard; you’re the best.”

“Can’t argue with that,” he smugly agreed. “What’s the job?”

“Technically, I’m hiring you for two jobs,” she clarified. “The first one is at the Castle. The Minutemen want to reclaim it, and your job is to help. The second one is a job for me. I can’t be traveling as the only sniper in my group all the time, so I need you to do that. You will get a wage for that job, since it's long-term.”

RJ was conflicted. On one hand, a steady wage was infinitely better than a one and done job. A steady stream of caps and the Minutemen at his back sounded like a perfect deal to him. On the other hand, he wasn’t sure he felt comfortable following this kid around. While Mayor Mac would have thought she was the coolest and wanted her as a guard for Little Lamplight, RJ was a father now and even if she was much older than Duncan, it didn’t seem right for her to be walking into an active battle.

“Seems a little strange for the Minutemen to be letting their little mascot run into the direct line of fire. I don’t think it would reflect well on them if something happened.”

She grinned happily, “Technically, I’m not supposed to be on any missions not involving my brother, but I show up anyway. Mr. Preston doesn’t like it, but he can’t exactly stop me.”

RJ laughed. Whoever “Preston” was, guess his presence was going to be a surprise to him.

“Alright, Boss. Robert Joseph Macready, at your service.”

“Great to have you, Mr. MacCready. I’m Sunny Roberts.”

______________________________________________________________

“When you said ‘reclaim’, I thought you meant, like, raiders or something!”

“That’s what I thought when Mr.Preston talked about it!”

Preston Garvey had a remarkably calm reaction when Sunny had shown up, despite the fact she wasn’t supposed to know about the mission at all. RJ had assumed he would have been at least concerned she had brought along a complete stranger, but that was an apparently common occurrence.

“Sunny has a way with people. You’ll see the more you hang around. Besides, I can’t exactly complain about her having supervision if she insists on running around the Commonwealth.”

Garvey had Sunny and RJ positioned on opposite sides on the castle walls before anyone else. In order to clear out the mirelurks on top, Sunny had taken the creative approach of throwing molotov cocktails into their nests, burning them and their eggs to explosive crisps. Once they were cleared, they helped with the mirelurks down below. Their shells were too tough and covered too much for them to take them out, so they had to pick off the eggs and little ones crawling around so the Minutemen down below could focus on the adults. Sunny had pretty good aim, not as good as his of course, but RJ could admit that she could handle a gun (or explosive) pretty well.

When the Mirelurk Queen had emerged from the waters, everyone still alive was forced to retreat inside the walls. Sniping from inside was impossible, as the windows were wide open, leaving anyone vulnerable to its disgusting acid spit.

RJ had tried anyway. The farthest possible window had enough distance from the Mirelurk Queen that she didn’t notice him, instead focusing on Garvey and Sunny. Sunny stayed within the walls of the structure, poking out to take a couple shots and disappearing again from the window, even moving a couple times when the Queen got too close to the wall. Garvey seemed to have a death wish, standing way too close and moving way too slow to properly dodge any acid. How he hadn’t gotten burned beyond recognition was beyond RJ. At least the two minutemen still living kept a more reasonable distance.

Sunny slid over to him from the next window. She had long ditched her duffel bag on one of the upper walls, and her sniper rifle was slung over her shoulder. Her hair had completely fallen out of her braids and she was gripping something in her hands.

“Can you shoot this?”

That was flamer fuel. She had found a whole canister.

“Does this look like a Flamer to you? Where did you even find that?!”

“We are in a fort. There is ammo everywhere! I'm surprised there isn’t more!” Sunny yelled back. The Queen turned around as Preston reloaded his musket. Now RJ could see the ugly, bug-like face as it split and sprayed acid at the Minutemen. “There is a flamer on the wall back there. I can’t move it.”

RJ checked out the window. The Mirelurk Queen hadn’t noticed them, being too focused on the Minutemen shooting right next to her. They would have to be a lot closer for them to set her on fire.

“Where is it?”

RJ hated shooting flamers. They were unwieldy, near impossible to aim, and could easily burn you as much as your enemy. If it got too hot, it could burn the skin off your hands. He had watched them blow up like bombs after shooting through them. It was like no thought outside of “fire” was used when making them. Squirrel had explained to him years ago how faulty the design is, but all that mattered right now was how much damage it could do.

The flamer had just been left on the wall, like a terrible reverse fire extinguisher. RJ grabbed it and headed toward the opposite side, Sunny on his heels. The Mirelurk Queen was in the perfect position, back toward a window and the Minutemen keeping her pinned there.

One of the Minutemen went down. The acid spit had hit his hands, causing him to drop his gun as he crumpled to the ground in pain. RJ attached the fuel to the flamer as fast as he could.

“Mr. Preston! MOVE!”

Garvey only gave a brief glance at Sunny, taking in both her and the flamer in RJ’s hands before taking another shot. He looked back to give her a serious nod then ordered the other two Minutemen to back up and cover him as he picked up the injured man in a trained fireman’s carry.

Free of any potential friendly fire, RJ pulled the trigger and immediately felt the wave of heat from the flames. The Mirelurk Queen let out a disgusting sounding screech as she was set ablaze, immediately turning toward the source of her pain. RJ dropped the flamer and grabbed Sunny’s arm, pulling her down and away from the quick stream of acid. 

The bright green liquid hit the back of his neck as he turned, trying to take cover.

Whatever he had said about flamers burning skin, this was one hundred times worse. It felt like it was trying to eat its way through his skin to get inside his throat and maybe come out the other side.

Just like the Minuteman before, RJ immediately lost his footing and fell in pain. He didn’t get the luxury of normal ground as his head collided with the edge of the windowsill then met the unforgiving hot metal of the flamer. His vision started to blur from the rapid pain. Just his luck for something like this to happen right in the middle of a fight.

“Mr. MacCready!”

______________________________________________________________

RJ first noticed how bright it was when he woke up. It had been night when he was knocked unconscious but the light now was too bright for his aching head. He squinted his eyes open, trying to adjust, before turning his head away from the light source completely and shutting his eyes again.

He could tell he was on a cot of some sort. Old, moldy, and smelt like the inside of his boot, but more comfortable than the ground ever could be. Where was he?

He slowly cracked open one eye and was met with the wonderful view of gray stone inches from his face. Well, better than the harsh sunlight. Most places in the Commonwealth weren’t made of solid stone. They were made from rotten wood, rusted sheet metal, or crumbling bricks, so RJ could guess he was still in the Castle.

He could hear the faint murmurs of other people talking and working. If he focused, he could make out Garvey giving orders to the others. 

Fully adjusting to the light, he attempted to roll over and hissed in regret as his skin burned in protest. The burned skin was protected under some banadaging, but it still felt like it would split and peel at any stretch or movement.

“Careful,” Sunny warned, stepping in from outside. “The stimpaks prevented any lasting damage but it's still going to burn for a while.”

She gently helped RJ sit up in the cot, giving him time to look around while she checked the bandages. They were in the hallway still, the spare cot being against the wall opposite of an doorway into the courtyard. Explained all the light, RJ guessed. He could see a recruitment beacon and radio tower being fussed over by the minutemen right in the middle of the Castle, though he personally would have been more worried about the missing wall in their fortress.

“Uhhh, kid? How long was I out?” he asked. “There's no way you guys built all that together in under an hour, so my guess is a while.”

Sunny paused her fussing over the bandages before restarting. “Just a few hours,” she answered truthfully. “You hit your head pretty hard. It probably did more damage than the acid or the heat from the Flamer, if I’m honest. The stimpaks should prevent any lasting damage, but Mr. Preston said to keep an eye on you just in case.”

Deciding that the bandages were fine, Sunny stepped away from the bed and gave RJ a tight smile. It was different from the bright ones she seemed to have back at the Third Rail. It was worried and shaken like she didn’t know what to do with herself now.

Her duffle bag was discarded in the opposite corner, the only other object in the room outside of the cot. Sunny made herself busy with it, undoing the zipper and searching for seemingly nothing at all.

“Sorry I got you hurt so badly,” she said, voice withdrawn. “I understand if you don’t want to take the other job. I’ll still pay you for this one, plus extra to make up for the injuries.”

RJ sat up straighter. No way was he passing up a good steady job over some light burns. Duncan needed those caps and he wasn’t about to let this girl withdraw her offer out of guilt or whatever she was beating herself up over.

“I’ve gotten worse injuries from falling down a hill, Boss.” he joked, trying to lighten the mood of the conversation. The life he lived was dangerous, but everyone’s life was dangerous. He had gotten himself in major danger for caps before, and he would likely do it again. At least with Sunny and the Minutemen, he wouldn’t get stabbed in the back or forced into fighting innocent civilians. He would never join the Minutemen, too tight laced for his tastes. Working for the Minutemen though? He could live with that. “Figured I was gonna take some heat when I agreed to storm the Castle. It’s part of being a gun for hire.”

Comforting your child boss about your own injuries wasn’t typically part of being a gun for hire, but it strangely wasn’t the weirdest thing he has had to do. Sunny finally stopped digging around in her duffle bag and pulled out a can of Iguana bits. Pulling a face, she pulled the tab to open the can and passed it to him. 

“Here,” she said. “Sorry we don’t have anything else, but food is limited here right now until we can get enough people for a good farm.”

“Ehh, not the first time I had to drink my meal.”

She watched as RJ ate the chunks of mystery meat and veggies, covered in cold bland gravy. Wiping his mouth with his sleeve, he started again. 

“Seriously Boss, as long as you're paying and not a psychopath, I’m willing to take a lot worse than this.” 

“That doesn’t mean I want you to,” Sunny answered. Her uneven shoulders drooped and she flopped on the bed, sitting right at his feet. “So many people are helping me get around the Commonwealth, teaching me how things work now, how to survive, following me on missions.”

“Sounds like a good gig. You get a bunch of babysitters and you get to run around playing the Hero of the Commonwealth.”

“I’m not a hero, though.” Sunny stated, starting to sound annoyed. “I just wanna help, like Dad taught me. I don't want them to die for me. I already lost enough.”

There hadn’t been much mention of the Sole Survivor’s parents over the radio, only that she was from Vault 111. Judging from the nickname “Sole Survivor”, her constantly rotating companions, and no one else around wearing a Vault 111 suit, he had a pretty good guess on what happened to her dad.

RJ opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by Garvey entering from the outside, a crate of supplies tucked under his arm.

“Good to see you awake, you took a nasty hit back there,” he said, seemingly not realizing his interruption. Sunny schooled her face into a more pleasant expression. “Honestly, getting knocked out may have saved your life. The burning you got was pretty minimal, so we think the Queen thought you were dead and turned her attacks to her ‘alive’ attackers before she could burn you to death.”

“Lucky me,” RJ deadpanned before remembering. “Hey, how did you not get burned? You got drenched in the stuff.”

Garvey gave a sheepish grin while tipping his hat back. “Apparently, Mirelurk acid isn’t really acid, it's a type of venom that reacts violently when in contact with anything living. No reaction at all on clothes. Since I’m mostly covered, it didn’t have as much of a target and I got lucky enough that it didn’t splatter on my face.”

RJ almost didn’t believe it, looking at Sunny for confirmation. She shrugged. “I don’t really get how that works either. Dr. Vergil explained it to me, but I never was a science person.”

Garvey ruffled Sunny’s hair briefly before turning his attention back to MacCready. He inwardly groaned as he saw a bright gleam in the Minuteman’s eye. He knows where this was going.

“You have a lot of talent the Minutemen could use, MacCready.” he started. “You ever think about joining the cause?”

MacCready waved him off good-naturedly. “Nah, man. You don’t want me in your ranks, trust me. I’m good just taking your caps for babysitting duty.”

“Hey!” Sunny interjected. “I’m the one paying you! Those are my caps buster!”

Preston's smile got wider. Guess reclaiming the Castle put him in a good mood. “Sunny’s right. She does earn her own caps. Can’t exactly tell her what she can and can’t do with them.”

“Somehow, I feel like she still pays better than you.”

Preston stayed for a little longer, telling Sunny that she received a message from the Brotherhood (which she didn’t look too thrilled about) and that they would be leaving for Sanctuary tomorrow after everything was set here.

After he left, Sunny had pulled out two Nuka Colas, handing one to him. They sat in silence for a bit before she spoke.

“So I guess you’re staying?”

“Yep,” he answered. “As long as you're still paying.”

“Yeah, I’m paying,” she chuckled. “But I’m adding to our agreement, MacCready.”

“What is it?” he immediately asked, then added. “And what happened to ‘mister’?”

“I’m paying you, so that means I’m in charge. You have to listen to what I say. And I say you are not allowed to get hurt anymore.”

Sunny had said it in a teasing tone, trying to make the situation light like he had earlier. But he could see it in her eyes. The fear. The desperation. That guilt that didn’t fit someone so young. He didn’t know exactly what made her so afraid of the people around her getting hurt, but he couldn’t add to that terrible shine.

“Alright, boss. No more getting hurt.”

She smiled and nodded, taking another sip of Nuka before leaning back contently. Silence came over them again, more comfortably this time.