Magnolia's voice rang sweetly over the light chatter of the bar, never overpowering it but not being drowned out either. She always had a way of matching her volume to her environment, and you adored her for it.

There was a time when you'd entered the Third Rail and could still hear the singer's voice clearly, even if you couldn't hear your own. Her pitch was something to marvel at, and you applauded the talent it takes.

Tonight was no different as you once again sat at the bar, drink in hand, as you watched the woman perform.

"It's quite the number, isn't it?" Hancock's voice intruded, shattering that once tranquil feeling you were feeling.

You sighed in response, turning to face your glass again, "She never has a bad one." You said, twirling your drink in a sorrowfully dramatic way.

"Why I like her so much." He grinned, tapping his rugged fingers against the countertop, "What is that? Rum? Let me buy you one." He offered, gesturing to the dark liquor you cradled in front of you.

"I'm not here for you, Hancock." You stated firmly.

"I get it, you're here for the merc, don't mean I can't buy you a drink."

You sighed. If there was one thing you hated about Goodneighbor, it was how weak you were for the town's mayor. One look was all it ever took for you to fall back into his arms. It was pathetic, really.

"Just don't get ahead of yourself." You muttered, and before you knew it, he had waved Charlie over and was sliding you yet another glass.

You did this every time you visited. Relapsed back into his embrace - back into his bed, just as you promised yourself you wouldn't.

There was a period when you had done everything in your power to avoid the place, but your life always seemed to lead you back to those neon lights hanging just outside the old beaten door. There was always something that forced you to come back.

It was unavoidable at this point. Even when you told yourself you were only going to stay long enough to hire MacCready for a job you had down at Parson's Asylum, you still ended up sitting down at the bar and ordering a drink. And it was all for the inevitable appearance of the mayor. Your one, unbeatable addiction.

You should've left. You couldn't keep sleeping around with the Mayor. You had a kid somewhere out in the Commonwealth. This wasn't the time to be making out with a corpse any time you happened to be in the area. But there had always been something about Hancock that made you break. No matter how much you hated the way he made you feel, or how you hated to lead him on, everything you built up within yourself shattered the moment your eyes met his own.

So, it didn't surprise you when you found yourself pressed up against the outside brick of the Old State House. Your legs wrapped tightly around Hancock's torso as he deepened the kiss.

"Mmm, Sunshine..." He groaned, "I'd do this with you every day if I could."

You snickered at his words before putting your finger to his lips, stopping him from trailing kisses all along your neck. "I bet you say that to everyone." You teased, slowly moving your finger down from its place in his mouth.

"Just you, sweetheart," He grinned, going to nip at the lobe of your ear. After a slight pause, he whispered, "...I love you." Then continued right back to what he was doing before.

You placed your hand down quickly onto his chest, stopping him briefly, "You can't say that." You muttered.

It was only loud enough for him to hear, and your heart broke a bit at the sight of his face dropping because of it, but whatever it was he felt was quickly pushed away as he regained himself once again.

"Sorry, honey..." He spoke, "Got… carried away."

You shot him an apologetic smile at the sound of the slight pang in his voice. You felt horrible, but your guilt was quickly diminished as his rough lips found their way back down to the spot under your jaw.

His motions were still filled with passion, but a different kind. It felt slower - more sincere. Like he was really trying to prove something to you. That this wasn't just another night for him. That you were more than just a one-night stand. That he truly did love you.

"Take it upstairs, Hancock!" One of the triggermen shouted after turning the corner and witnessing the lude display.

"Heh, I'm going, I'm going!" He called back, hooking his arm around the bottom of your legs and shouldering the doors open roughly.

The dusty atmosphere of the Old State House was.. something, you supposed. It definitely carried that historical weight the ghoul seemed to like so much. You, however, couldn't help but cough a little at the fast change in air quality. The place smelt like a college dorm party was held in Washington's basement. It was unique in its own right, but the cigarette smoke that drenched parts of the place definitely wasn't the healthiest to breathe in.

Despite your gripes, you giggled drunkenly the whole time you were being carried, clinging around his neck as he stumbled up the winding stairs. A small smile flashed across his own face at the sight of you so giddy in his arms and that previous pang of guilt returned to haunt you.

You held onto him tighter for support as he roughly kicked open the doors to his room. It didn't take him long before he was tossing you onto one of his velvet couches, bouncing a bit from the impact.

"Well? Did you finally find a way into their chapel?" Desmond sneered in your direction when he heard that familiar echo of your footsteps along the tiled floors.

You rolled your eyes, "Yeah, and they took a piece of my brain with them. Hope you're proud." You spat dryly, the bandages they wrapped you still tightly secured around the top of your head.

Every now and then you'd be hit with a wave of pain in the spot where the cultists tore a bit of your brain out. It wasn't debilitating, by any means, but it was an uncomfortable reminder of what you'd been subjected to for the sake of some cranky old ghoul you'd hardly known for a week.

"Watch your tone with me, kid." He warned, stalking up closer to where you stood. "I've got years on you and it'd be a damned shame if something were to happen to a face as pretty as yours." He grabbed your jaw quickly, his calloused hands roughly holding you in place, forcing you to look him in the eye. "Understand?"

"You wouldn't do anything to me," You smacked his hand away, "I'm the closest you've ever gotten to those tribals. They accept me as one of their own. You need me."

He breathed out an annoyed sort of breath, "Don't think so highly of yourself. You're just as replaceable as anyone else I've used."

"It's a wonder why anyone found you charming before the war." You retorted, casting him the same disgusted look he gave to you.

The real wonder was why you liked him as much as you did. He had no positive attributes--he wasn't even funny--and yet here you were, bending to fit his every whim. The tribals must've scooped out more of your brain than you'd initially thought. Why else would you be so determined to prove yourself to him?

"You can go now." He rasped, shooing you when you just stood there staring, "I still need you to find out what you can about their leader."

"I just got here! And they took my brain! No sympathy from the old man?"

"I'm not a charity, I'm a businessman." He spoke coldly as he glared in your direction, "Go on then, get moving."

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

It'd been a month since you'd helped him kill Calvert, and you still hadn't found it within yourself to leave. You despised this horrible curse that'd been cast on you, and so did Desmond.

"I don't need you here anymore." He told you one day as you were both wandering the basement of the lighthouse. "You've got what you wanted, didn't you? Better get lost before you get hurt."

"As old as you are? I'm more worried about you getting dementia than killing me. What would we do if you forgot to be a dick?" You teased.

You didn't bother looking up at him, instead, keeping your focus on the microwave gun you'd attained from completing the mission with the ghoul. It was a wonder why anyone made something so uselessly interesting. You found it hard to tear your eyes away from such an invention.

Not sparing him a glance proved to be a mistake, however, as you missed the way his eyes darkened as he listened to your comment.

"Jesus!" You yelped, as he moved to restrain your wrists quickly above your head, your back colliding with the wall harshly as he glowered down at your much smaller form.

"It was sarcasm, grandpa, know what that is? I wasn't being serious." You spat, struggling to get out of his hold. He didn't budge, too focused on keeping you pressed firmly against the wall.

"I know what sarcasm is." He growled, eyes never leaving your own as he overpowered you. He did so way too easily for your liking, and it made you try harder to break free from his hold.

"Then get off of me!"

There was a long pause of silence between the two of you. His pale eyes froze you to compliance as he kept a tight grip on your wrists. After a beat, he let you go, but you sensed the hesitance he had in doing so. There was a part of him that liked seeing you restrained like that--liked seeing you under his control, helpless and fully at his mercy.

"Christ, Desmond, you left bruises on my wrists!" You cried out, rubbing at the marks that grew more and more visible by the second, "What the hell was that?"

His hands moved to adjust his tie, ignoring the pathetic sounds of your whimpers as he continued to travel throughout the underground lab. Maybe keeping you around wouldn't be so terrible, maybe he could train you. Keep you leashed up and willing to fulfill his every whim and command. He's had this terribly empty feeling lingering inside of him ever since Calvert slaughtered his dogs. Maybe he finally found a replacement suitable enough to fill that role. Maybe he found it in you.

----------

The buzzer rang loudly, a telltale sign for you to go find the ghoul.

You made your way up the stairs where you were certain Desmond would meet you. He's been doing this for weeks now. At first, when the obnoxious sound reverberated off the walls you'd expected him to finally kick you out or, at the very least, give you an order to carry out, but instead, he met you with gifts.

You'd go searching for him after the sound played loudly through the halls, and he'd greet you with a glass of wine or a beautiful outfit from the old world that he'd salvaged for you to wear. It caught you off guard, to say the least. A part of you cried out at the uncanniness that followed the actions. They were so out of character, you'd almost assumed you were being set up. But after so long, you doubted the ghoul planned on killing you. Not after he wasted so many resources on you, at least.

Now, whenever you heard the buzzer, you assumed he had done something else for you--something extravagant, as he always did.

You knocked on the door softly once you'd made it to where you needed to be. Ever the obedient one you were, standing just outside with your hands folded together neatly over the pale blue dress he'd given to you a few days back.

"Hello, dear," He greeted, after giving you permission to enter. His voice dripping with the same oddly malicious tone it always carried. "I've got you another gift."

Your eyes widened when he showed you the dog collar that lay neatly in his lap. You weren't sure where he got it or why he was giving it to you, but you weren't all that mad about it.

Maybe you should've been. Clipping a collar around your neck was humiliating at best, and deep down you knew this guy didn't respect you--you knew he genuinely viewed you as his dog. But the gesture was so kind, and you couldn't help but feel a little bit grateful to know he's at least been thinking about you.

"Well? What are you waiting for? Put it on." He ordered, leaning back in his chair. A dominant expression adorned his features and he clasped his hands together.

You obeyed. Mostly because you knew there wouldn't be anyone else to see you in such a submissive state. You had to admit, though, that the collar looked very clean and polished and felt quite nice around your neck. Not too tight and not too scratchy.

"What do you say, dear?" He asked once the accessory was locked in place.

You'd almost forgotten how light your neck felt when the collar wasn't on. Even though you weren't free, you still felt incredibly liberated. Just standing there with no bomb attached to your head reminded you of how it felt to exist before your capture.

You stared silently at the Operator who had taken it off for a moment to check for any malfunctions in the device. They hardly ever took the collars off, and this would most likely be the only moment you'd ever have away from the devilish instrument that kept you locked in captivity. So, you did your best to enjoy it while it lasted.

It'd been so long since you'd felt the wind, that you couldn't help but drift your eyes toward the beaten path it was blowing towards. It led to somewhere in the park and, although you knew it'd be dangerous, the slight chance of freedom felt better than spending the rest of your life as a slave, and your inclination to follow it fueled your mind the longer you stared at it.

For a moment you just sat there, trying to build up the courage to run before they slapped the bomb back around your head. You didn't want to live the rest of your life doing nothing but work and be humiliated, and you'd never get another opportunity like this. So, when the raider wasn't looking, you stood and began sprinting straight down the dusty road.

Your heart rate increased dramatically as the angry shouts and bullets flew past your head, a few of their shots even hitting you, and, if it weren't for the adrenaline that flooded your veins, you were certain the pain would've caused you to hit the ground.

After a minute of chasing you, you noticed they'd all stopped their pursuit catching you.

It didn't matter, though. Those stupidly colorful gates were just in the distance, and you desperately wanted to cross the threshold and get away from them.

You had found it a little odd that they'd given up on you so quickly after your escape, but after spending a few minutes wandering into the kid-ish enclosure, you discovered why.

Your shoulders slumped when you spotted the ferals. The disappointment mixed with the bleeding from the bits of metal lodged into your limbs caused you to faint, and you seemed to accept whatever it was that would come to you.

It wasn't like you had the energy or drive to move any farther than this anyway. You didn't even have a home to go back to.

You hit the ground heavily, the air escaping your lungs as you lay there in the dirt, unable to do anything but pray that you somehow survived the predicament you'd placed yourself in.

---------

"Hey, kid, wake up."

Your eyes started to flutter open at the voice. You winced when you felt the sharp pain in your leg pulsing throughout your body, but you were grateful that it kept you from falling back asleep again.

Your hand came up to cradle your forehead as you started to sit up. You squinted at your surroundings for a moment, desperate to find spot anything that you could recognize before your gaze met with those of the glowing green man squatting beside you.

You jumped back a bit at the sight. You'd seen a Glowing One a few times before, but never this close, and the ones you'd seen were always feral.

"Where... am I?" You asked, sitting up a bit straighter on the dusty brown couch.

"My old theatre." He responded, his small black pupils searching you for any fear or hostility, but the most he found was confusion. "Are you alright? You're a slave, aren't you?"

"You're not planning on taking me back, are you?" You questioned, bringing your knees up to your chest to try and comfort yourself.

You had to admit, that you were finding yourself a bit overwhelmed at the striking unfamiliarity of your situation. Not only have you never been in a 'theatre', but you also can't recall a time you've ever spoken to a ghoul. Scary.

Your arm brushed the scratchy white bandages that were strictly wrapped around your calf and, as you peered down at it you felt a growing sense of safety. Surely, he wouldn't help you out if he wanted to harm you? Or, at least that's what you hoped.

"No, no, my dear, you're safe here... I don't mean to frighten you."

"I'm sorry," You began, apologetically, "It's nothing against you... I-"

"You're fine." He quickly interrupted, "I understand how you must feel."

He stared at you for a beat longer before ending it off with, "You're welcome to stay for as long as you need. I'll clear out the underground areas for you to leave safely if you decide to go. Just make that decision within the week."

You only nodded, looking curiously around at the posters that littered the walls and the show lights that still seemed to work after all the time that'd passed.

"Yeah... thanks."

----------

You had shaped the backstage room of King Cola's Court into a comfortable area for you to reside in. Despite the obvious dangers that lurked outside and the knowledge that your captives were just around the corner, you had decided to stay. Stupid, sure, but you liked it here, and you hadn't anyone else to go home to, so you figured you'd make the most out of what you were given.

"Oswald?" You called, stepping hesitantly into the extensive seating area that covered the theatre floors.

You didn't actually know if the ghoul was here or not, you had just made it a habit to ask after all the times he popped up out of the blue and scared you half to death. Not intentionally, you didn't think, but it frightened you nonetheless.

Green smoke flooded your vision as the magician appeared before you, gripping your hands caringly as you coughed.

"What are you doing out here, my dear? You have to be more cautious of my friends, they're drawn to voices."

"I know," You replied, "I wouldn't harm them."

"It's not you harming them that I'm worried about." He mused, snaking his arm around your shoulder as he guided you up toward the stage, still covered in the blinding lights of show biz.

He sighed, sliding a coat over your shoulders and accessories across your body, "Darling, it truly is a shame the former world never got to see you."

You giggled when he spun you, adoring the way the lights bathed and blinded you at the same time.

"Please, you know I don't have the personality for these things."

He shook his head, "Wouldn't have needed it. I knew many people who lived life on the stage without being outgoing."

You hummed in thought as he dipped you down, his arms still secure around your waist, "Maybe backstage."

He let out an amused breath as he pulled you back up, "Perhaps." Was all he said before taking your hands in his and guiding you around the stage again in one of those dramatic old-world dances he seemed to like so much.

You never understood them, let alone got the hang of what to do with your feet, but he had a way of directing that allowed you the freedom to do whatever it was you felt was natural, while he did the actual dance.

"Holy shit, you suck at Blackjack."

"It's luck-based." You sneered, eyes shooting back at him sharply before you increased your next bet by a few more.

You weren't a ghoul, by any means, but you fit his type enough for him to follow you all the way out to Vegas. That, and because he didn't really want to go to space with the rest of his group. He didn't believe in Jason's movement like the others did, and he'd never been to Vegas before, so it felt like a no-brainer when a pretty little thing like you made the offer to take him.

"You lost again." He pointed out, hands crossed over his chest as you only glared at him in response.

He had to admit, he felt a tad naked without his rifle in hand, but he supposed he had to make a few sacrifices to be able to have a smidge of fun out here.

He was grateful that the two of you managed to get in at all. You almost didn't have enough caps between the two of you to be eligible for entrance, but you shook out a few connections and, thankfully, it ended up with the two of you on the Strip.

You grimaced as you turned around in your seat to face the ghoul once you'd lost for the umpteenth time, your eyes staring dead into his as you silently apologized for your misfortune.

Your eyes. They were the part that really caught his attention. He couldn't get enough of the way your gaze lingered on the more horrific aspects of his face. It wasn't ever out of disgust but curiosity, and something else that he couldn't ever quite put his finger on. He found it incredibly endearing.

"Move over. You're wasting all our caps." He finally spoke, pushing you out of the chair with a gentle roughness.

The feeling of his rough hands placing themselves on the skin of your shoulder wasn't unpleasant. Different, sure, but not unpleasant. You've never met someone whose hands were so calloused, and it caught you off guard the first couple of times he's touched you, but you found you almost preferred them to the regular feeling. It felt more unique, and you could always tell it was him when he grabbed you.

"You lost." You noted, leaning your head just above his shoulder as you watched the dealer snatch the chips over to his side of the table.

He waved his hand dismissively, "Ah, let's just go. This place is about to suck us dry and we've barely just got here."

You shot him a knowing smile but followed him without protest.

"You're just embarrassed that you also couldn't win." You teased, hurrying to match his pace.

He huffed in response and kept walking until you both had finally left the building and began heading toward Vault 21 for the cheaper rooms.

The nightlife in this city was something you didn't think you'd ever get used to. It was around one in the morning, and the people around you still hadn't shown any signs of stopping. It tired you out just watching them.

"You'd look good as one of those girls," Harland muttered into your ear as you passed a small group of strippers, all of them on their way to work out front of Gomorrah, you supposed.

Your face darkened at the suddeness of his comment, "Yeah, whatever." You dismissed, "C'mon, let's go find a room."

You shoved him lightly at the suggestive look he shot you.

"You sure you wanna do this, smoothskin? It might not exactly give you the reputation you're looking for."

"I'm sure." You said, holstering your pistol in the slot on your waist.

You might not have been a ghoul, but Tenpenny ticked you off more than you could ever describe. You'd been itching to aim your barrel straight at his head for a while now. Just watching him plead for his life before you took that final shot filled you with adrenaline. You knew it'd feel good watching him drop, and the ghouls you were infiltrating his tower with felt the same.

"Well then, you know what the plan is."

You nodded. Briefly searching his eyes for anything else he might've wanted to say before leaving the metro area and marching toward the tower.

"Come on! You recognize me! Let me in!" You called out to the security guard as you rang the buzzer.

"Alright! Alright! Give me a second.."

It didn't take long before the rusty gates squeaked open, and you were allowed inside the expensive sanctuary.

The plan was for you to go straight to the back of the building to unlock the heavy metal doors keeping them and the ferals separated from the rest. But with all the guards and residents around, you knew it'd look suspicious. So you, instead, opted to make an appearance inside to try and alleviate any wandering eyes that might catch on to what you were planning.

It was as polished as you remembered. The golden glow of the chandelier illuminated everything in the lobby as you wandered straight into it. Well, tried to, at least.

"Thought you said you weren't coming back." Gustavo's voice echoed over the light chatter that filled the room. "What changed?"

"It's hard to return back to the waste after witnessing a place so clean." You smiled sweetly - or as sweetly as you could manage.

Gustavo had been on to you the second you entered the grand tower, and rightfully so. His suspicions about you plotting with the "dirty folk" were correct. He just couldn't ever find enough proof to get you kicked.

He hummed doubtfully, not buying anything you told him, "Don't let me keep you, then."

You watched the guard out of the corner of your eye, awaiting the moment he finally got you out of his line of sight, but he never did. Instead, he seemed to be making sure you were where he could spot you, not trusting the quickness of your return.

You walked up the stairs quickly, praying you'd lose him soon so that you could let the others into the building and get on with the plan. You didn't want them to think you flaked on them last minute, and you weren't sure how long it'd been since you left.

"Oh, dear. They let you back in, did they?" You turned to see Lydia fanning herself on the side couches of the upstairs lobby. "Did you're friends finally turn feral?"

"Something like that." You clenched your teeth, wanting to end the conversation as fast as possible so you could get back on track.

"Hmm, poor you. I'd hate to remind you, but we did tell you so."

She might've had something more to say, but you didn't let her finish as you continued walking down one corridor after the other, biding your time for that perfect escape. Then you'd unlock the sewer doors for the mob of ferals the others hoarded up.

After a moment of trekking aimlessly, you made your way back down the glossy stairs in the most inconspicuous manner you could manage. Gliding swiftly toward the back, bobby pins in hand for the stunt you planned on pulling.

You left the building and made a beeline for the back sewer doors. It took you a minute of jimmying the copper around before the doors flung open and the ferals pooled out from the formerly restricted doors.

Roy was one of the first, moving to shield you with his body as the mindless fiends began sprinting toward the bright lights flooding out from the tower windows.

His body blocked you from their view, his toned and scarred arms trapping you against the concrete wall that surrounded the settlement. You'd almost consider it to be romantic if it weren't for the circumstances.

He only let up once they had all run inside, showing a bit of hesitance to leave the close proximity between the two of you.

"You should wait here until the place is cleared. I'd hate to have one of the ferals grab you." He said, his flesh-ridden arms falling toward his gun as he continued to stare down at you, your back still firmly planted on the wall.

"We won't have to worry about that," You began, rummaging through your bag before bringing out your ghoul mask, "I brought this."

Roy only huffed, half amused half exasperated. He gestured for you to follow and you quickly threw the ugly face on top of your own, before trugging excitedly behind him.

Walking past the front doors and into the same lobby you had previously entered a few moments ago was a shock, to say the least. The once clean floors were stained red with blood, and the bright, bougie atmosphere was reduced to nothing but a warzone.

Bullets and limbs flew in every direction as the residents shot, and the ghouls tore them apart. They weren't any match with how little armor they carried on them, and the battle was very quickly won.

The once spotless ballroom was diminished down to piles of corpses and blood-stained floors.

You almost felt bad, especially, for the ones who hadn't been rude to you at all. But your thoughts quickly dissipated when you remembered that the job wasn't yet done.

"Only one man left." Micheal rasped, gesturing toward the elevator leading straight to Tennypenny's suite. You doubted he heard the violence being committed in the lower levels, too enamored in his own pride to care much for the community. That and the fact that he was so much higher up than the ground floors.

"Shouldn't take too many of us to finish him. C'mon, kid, you can come handle him with me." Roy ordered, already starting for the gleaming platform.

You rushed after him, taking off your mask and pulling out your gun in anticipation of the guards that would be awaiting you at the top.

The ride up felt longer than it should've been. The slowness killed you, and the faint music that played within the metal box made you feel all the more anxious to pull the trigger of your gun.

You've only been up here once, and even then, you didn't have enough time to get a good look at how many guards there were or what to expect. It might've been a mistake to only bring the two of you up to the top of the suite, but you feared it was far too late to regret your decisions now.

The reverberating 'ding' of the elevator woke you from your thoughts as you followed the ghoul off. You were careful to be quiet as two of Allister's guards came into view.

Roy was quick to attack, shooting them both with clean precision before standing straight up.

"Well, this is it." He spoke, "How're you feeling?"

"Fine, I guess." You responded, "It's hard to believe that this place was so easy to infiltrate."

He let out an amused huff, bringing his arm around to pat you on the back in a friendly manner, before holding the door to Tenpenny's garden open for you.

It almost felt ironic that something that required so much attention and work was kept by Tenpenny.

It didn't take long for Roy to push the final door open with a creak, allowing you to step out first onto the balcony.

"Hello, Mr. Tenpenny." You greeted, pulling your gun out of your holster as you neared where he sat, watching the landscape play out below him.

"Hmm, so you're back." He spoke, not bothering to turn back and look at you. "I knew you'd come to your senses eventually, my dear. This place is hard to resist, I'm sure."

"It really is." You didn't waste any time and shot one clean bullet straight through Allister's skull.

Roy's hand came up heavily atop your shoulder, catching your attention as you spun to face him.

His faded blue eyes gazed into your own, just staring for a moment before he leaned down and slowly pulled you in closer, roughly kissing you as his blood-covered hands smeared the side of your cheek in the sticky liquid.

"C'mon, kid, stay here with the rest of us ghouls." He muttered, his hand forcing your face up to look at him, "We could clear out the corpses and fix it up however you like. What do ya say?”

"Ok..." You spoke breathlessly, gripping his arms as you did, "I'll... stay."

Diamond City hadn't ever been particularly cruel to you. The residents welcomed you with open arms and friendly smiles, beckoning you further into their fair city, and you followed. You graciously accepted the empty bed they offered, and the rent it cost. Anything was better than sleeping in a stained sleeping bag out in the waste, so who were you to complain?

You integrated with them easily, taking up a job and finally being able to make something of your life.

It felt nice being able to go to something you found so familiar. You never imagined that you'd ever miss the feeling of waking up early and heading off to work. Nothing beats the nostalgia you felt when you followed that same gruelingly familiar path you'd acted out so many times before. You missed your life and all the pains that came with it.

Piper had taken a liking to you early on. Whether it be because you helped get her back into the grand settlement or because you were a gold mine of content for her news stories. Either way, she made it a habit of following you around. Any chance she got, she was by your side, asking you questions and offering to buy you drinks. So, when she caught wind of the ghost stories surrounding The Slog, it wasn't a surprise you were the first she went to tell. Which is what you are doing there now. Investigating. Going to see for yourself if the myths whispered about it were true or not.

You'd only been here for a day but, you didn't think it was so bad. At least not as bad as how you'd heard it being described. It was peaceful, and the ghouls who resided here were kinder than most.

"Not sleeping? Don't tell me we scare you." Wiseman teased, slowly approaching where you sat cross-legged on the side of the pool.

You turned to face him in surprise when you heard his voice echo lightly off the concrete. "No, no! It's nothing like that." You promised, watching as he moved to sit beside you, "It's just hard to find nights like this."

The moon glowered brightly, illuminating as much as it could reach in the ever-darkening sky above. It had to have been late by now, and as you glanced down at your pip-boy you noticed that it was, in fact, 12:29.

You would've been leaving the bar around this time. At least on Friday, you would be. Now look at you. Sitting at the edge of a pool, surrounded by radiation and faces you never would've met if it weren't for the bombs. A part of you felt a weird sense of joy. Despite all the suffering and pain the war had rained down on you and the family you once had, you found it hard to claim that it was all negative.

"It's hard to beat." He spoke softly, following your gaze to the sky. "It's one of the reasons I like it out here so much. Closer to nature and all. You don't hardly get things like that in Goodneighbor. It's all too deep in the city."

"I don't blame you."

A comfortable silence filled the air between you as you both continued to stare at the sky. Well, you continued to stare up at the sky. Wiseman sent subtle glances in your direction throughout most of it.

"Isn't that mine?" He asked, tugging lightly at the coat you wrapped around yourself.

"Ah, well, yeah..." You trailed off, slightly embarrassed that you were caught wearing his clothes. "You can have it back if you want. I just didn't have anything else to put on."

He breathed out an amused breath, "Keep it. Fits you better anyway."

"Ar-Are you sure? I don't want to take anything away from you guys... it was just the first thing I saw."

"I'm sure." He said, continuing to smile, "I don't use it much anymore anyway. You'd get better use out of it."

You nodded, looking away from him and down at the tarberries growing in the pool.

"Why'd you decide to come here, anyway? Don't imagine many people hold us in high regard."

You shrugged, "A friend mentioned it. Besides, it was about time for me to hit the road again. The city gets suffocating after a while."

He chuckled in response, leaving a warm feeling to spread across your body at the sound.

"You're from Diamond City, aren't you?"

You nodded, shifting your body slightly. You doubted they saw the settlement in a positive light and it worried you that he may look down on you for staying there.

Wiseman hummed, "It's a fine place to live."

"Yeah, I think so."

The silence between the two of you didn't last long as he rested his calloused hand on the side of your face, gently pulling your gaze back onto his own. His mouth contorted into a subtle smile before slowly pulling you closer, not stopping until his lips met your own.

"Don't be a stranger." He muttered to you as he pulled away, "The Slog is as much your home as it is mine."

"Yeah.. thanks." You spoke quietly, staring stupidly at the ghoul as you did your best to will your heart rate down.

He let out an amused huff at your expression before turning to stare at the sky again. Somewhere in the middle of that, he'd managed to snake his arm around your shoulders and rub at them tenderly, still sensing how cold you were.