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Chapter Text

Evangelina & Danse

Artist: @bogdoom

My Tumblr: @yesitsloz

Chapter Text

“We’re wishing all of our listeners yet another glorious weekend from us here in Boston! Temperatures have hit a record high, so whether you’re off to the park or the sands, be sure to soak up that sunshine! And now, a timeless classic: ‘We’ll Meet Again’ by the Forces’ Sweetheart, Vera Lynn.” 

Humming along to the radio, Eva folded a soft linen shirt over her arm, her gaze drifting to the window as a group of children darted past. Their laughter rode the crisp fall breeze, mingling with the birdsong of cardinals perched high in trees where streaks of gold bled between thick leaves of orange and green. 

It was the epitome of a picturesque morning.

With a twirl, she dropped the shirt into one of the tan suitcases spread across the bed and glanced up at the sound of someone clearing their throat. Nate leaned against the door frame, arms crossed, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“We’re only visiting the family, hon,” he teased. “Shall I fetch the kitchen sink or…?” 

“It’s funny—I haven’t seen you do anything to help,” she replied lightly, forcing the suitcase shut and tossing it at him. Closing the space between them, she leaned into his ear. “I’m surprised you caught that, old man.” 

“I’ll give you ‘old man’,” he rumbled, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll start loading up the truck. Codsworth will have breakfast ready soon, and then we can hit the road.” 

Eva lingered by the nursery door as he strolled away, smiling at the sight of their son, Shaun, sleeping soundly in his bright blue crib. Easing the door shut, she headed down the hall, stopping at the telephone as the answering machine’s steady blink caught her eye. With a press of a button, her father’s voice drifted out of the speaker.

“Evangelina, if you’re there, please call me back. It’s urgent.” 

With a sharp exhale, she hit delete, uncapped a red marker pen, and drew a cross on the wall calendar. 

“Good morning, Mum!” Codsworth greeted cheerily as she entered the kitchen. Hovering by the oven, his arms danced across the array of pans and plates cluttering the counters. “And what a beautiful one it is, too. I do hope bacon and eggs will suffice before your journey.” 

“If there’s ever a day I say no to bacon, take me out back and shoot me,” Eva quipped, leaning against the island and flicking through a copy of the Boston Bugle. Stretching across the counter, she swiped a strip of bacon from a plate, earning herself a pointed stare from the Mister Handy. “Hopefully, the traffic won’t be too bad. You know how those city-goers love to flock to the beach at the first sight of sunshine.” 

Codsworth hummed thoughtfully as Nate crept up behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist, and hoisted her off her feet. Her startled shriek turned into warm laughter as he set her down and held her close. 

“I daresay both of you will have a great time away, regardless of the roads,” Codsworth remarked as he arranged the plates. “Caroline and David are a truly delightful couple.” 

Nate nodded and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I’m lucky to have them. Mom can’t wait to show us Shaun’s Halloween costume.” 

But the excitement of that morning would be the last they ever shared. 

Years later, as Eva sat on the holotape player, watching raindrops slide down the grimy pane of glass, she silently cursed the world for stealing it from her.

From them.

With a bitter huff, she pulled a blanket from beneath the coffee table and curled up on the sofa, draping the thick fabric over her weary body. Rubbing her eye against her shoulder as a lone tear slid down her cheek, she stared at the aged Radiation King television across the room.

She could still see the newscaster’s face and hear his fearful words as if it were yesterday.

“Followed by… yes, followed by flashes… blinding flashes. Sounds of explosions. We’re… we’re trying to get confirmation, but we seem to have lost contact with our affiliate stations. We do have… coming in… confirmed reports, I repeat, confirmed reports, of nuclear detonations in New York and Pennsylvania. My God…” 

She and Nate had stood in front of that same television, helpless as the world descended into chaos around them. The emergency broadcast cut to ominous static, and the wail of sirens sounded outside, piercing their ears. Eva remained rooted to the spot, her mind dissociating in a split second of denial.

“Eva, we need to move.” 

Nate’s hand tugged her arm, pulling her back to reality. In a frenzy, he tore drawers from their slots, tipping them upside down in a desperate search for their identification documents. Stuffing them into pockets, he dashed to the nursery, returning seconds later with their crying infant clutched to his chest.

Codsworth floated by the window, silently watching his family for what would be the last time. With tears streaking her face, Eva wrapped her arms around his cold, metal shell, lowering her voice to a broken whisper.

“I love you so, so much, Cods. You’ve been the best—more than anyone could ever ask for.”

By the time his own solemn farewell reached her, Nate had already left the house. Eva gave the faithful Mister Handy one final squeeze before stumbling out onto the street after her family. 

The sight that greeted her was akin to the doomsday movie Nate would occasionally watch. Neighbours sprinted down the street, shoving their lives into backpacks. Some had fallen to their knees, praying fervently in hopes of salvation. Others stood still, faces pale with grim acceptance. 

Time tightened as they ran uphill, stopping short of a gate at the barked order of a soldier. His eyes swept over the trio before he thrust out a hand, accompanying it with a gruff, “Identification.” 

Nate fumbled with the papers, rattling off their names as he pushed them into the man’s hand. She had never heard such fear in her husband’s voice, and the sound of it was enough to let the full weight of their reality crash down on her like a ton of bricks.

Ushered through the gate with a swift wave of a hand, they continued to move over the crest of the hill. Behind them, someone begged to be let in, only to be silenced by the whirr of a minigun.

The message had been clear: stay there and wait out your inevitable death, or move through the gate and meet it sooner. 

Crowded among terrified civilians, Eva huddled closer to Nate on the vault’s elevator pad, cooing quietly to their baby. With a sharp jolt and a screech of metal on metal, the lift began to descend at an agonisingly slow pace. 

At first, there was a strange silence. Then, it happened. A colossal boom shook the atmosphere, splitting the air around them. As the elevator moved further down the shaft, a foreboding orange glow spread across the opening, followed by a powerful shockwave that slammed across the cover as it moved overhead. Eventually, the heavy lid sealed them off with a deafening bang, plunging them into darkness as the world above burned bright. 

Around her, strangers sobbed, choking out how they’d lost everything. But all Eva could feel was the pressing pang of remorse for all of the lives that had been needlessly lost.

Squeezing Nate’s arm tighter, he brushed the tips of his fingers over hers as the lift came to a shuddering stop. The blue protective guard moved upward with a hiss, revealing two workers clad in skintight blue suits, who quickly ushered them into a bustling lobby. In the queue, Eva’s gaze drifted to the overhead sign, admiring its vibrant, comforting words.

Vault 111
Welcome Home

For the fourteen people who’d managed to dodge death, the vault was meant to be a beacon of hope. Safely nestled beneath hundreds of feet of scorched earth, it promised them a second chance at life in the wake of total atomic annihilation. 

But had all been a lie.

The vault had been far from a home, and even the ruins of Sanctuary no longer felt like one. Wiping her eyes with the frayed edge of the blanket, Eva’s eyes met those of her faithful Mister Handy, who floated silently by the sofa, clutching a chipped bowl.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, Mum,” he said softly, placing it down on the coffee table. “But you really must eat. I know it isn’t quite the homely comfort you’re accustomed to, but with your unexpected return, I only have what’s available until you venture into town.” 

“It’s okay,” she murmured, pulling the bowl into her lap with a slight sneer. One whiff of the steaming, yellow goop pushed her to the brink of retching, and she quickly turned her head away. “I… I can’t. I’m not that hungry, I promise.” 

Though his disbelief was plain as day, he took the bowl without a word of judgement and silently scraped the gelatinous mess into the bin. 

With a resigned sigh, she rolled onto her side, pulling the blanket up to her chin as her empty gaze settled on a dusty photograph of her family perched on a bookcase. Beside it sat Nate’s wedding band, silently reminding her of everything she had lost.

She had twiddled that same band between numb fingers while slumped against Nate’s pod. She had sobbed, screamed, and punched the pod until her knuckles bled, but nobody had heard. The vault’s relentless sirens had drowned out her cries, just as they had when strangers left her childless and widowed. Across the room, the terminal’s glowing text had continued to taunt her.

REPORT: 10/23/2287
LIFE SUPPORT SYSTEMS: OFFLINE
ERROR: MANUAL OVERRIDE - SYSTEM FAILURE 

The crushing declaration of how everything she had loved had been ripped from her. Two hundred and ten years after the bombs had fallen, she was all that remained: the sole survivor of Vault 111. 

What had been promised as their haven had become their hell.

Shifting onto her back, searching for comfort on the sofa she’d barely left for twenty-four hours, she prayed for a modicum of sleep to alleviate the exhaustion clouding her mind. But the moment she let her eyes close, he was in front of her again.

Pale. Frozen. Lifeless. 

If not for the dark blotch of crimson staining his bright blue jumpsuit, he might have looked peaceful. But in truth, there was nothing peaceful about what they had done to him. 

As sleep began to pull her under, she silently recited the vow she’d made to him in their final moments, right when she’d slipped his ring onto her finger and sealed him inside the metal coffin. 

“I’ll get our Shaun back. Every last one of them will pay for what they’ve done to our family.” 

That promise was the only reason she left the vault. It gave her purpose. A reason to live. Until her final breath, she would never relent in searching for their son and exacting justice. 

Tomorrow, she would begin. Tomorrow, Evangelina Ward would return to the world.

Chapter Text

“We knew the world would not be the same. A few people laughed, a few people cried. Most people were silent.”

Eva had read those words more times than she could count. During her university years, she had practically idolised Robert Oppenheimer for his brilliance in revolutionising quantum physics.

But now, standing at the precipice of the hill overlooking the ruins of her neighbourhood, she despised him. His words no longer lived in textbooks—they had become her reality, replaying in her mind whenever she closed her eyes.

Two days earlier, she had stood in that very spot for the first time since that day. Gone were the birdsong, the laughter of children, and the canopies of colourful leaves. Fire and fury had reduced the world she knew to a soulless, ashen husk.

“Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds.”

At her feet lay the carcass of a grotesquely mutated deer. She’d hunted it down with a rifle scavenged from a root cellar just hours earlier, desperate to sate the hunger clawing at her stomach with something other than long-expired cans of foul slop.

Gripping its hind legs, she dragged the animal downhill, averting her eyes from the skeletal remains strewn across the ground. The first time she had walked that same path, she’d silently apologised to all of them.

They had been real people—with real families, ambitions, emotions, and memories.

And in the end, all of it had been turned to dust by those wielding greater power.

One day, I’ll give them all a final resting place.

At the corner of the street, she hauled the deer over the kerb and paused, staring down the road. The once-colourful Lustron houses had been weathered down to faded, rusted shells. Warped signs leaned over cracked roads littered with debris and fallen trees.

The fallout had spared Sanctuary Hills no mercy.

When she’d first arrived, fresh out of the vault, she hadn’t been alone for long. Out of the thick fog had floated a Mister Handy, locking its mechanical eyes onto her terrified, trembling form. But it hadn’t been any old Mister Handy—it had been hers. A sliver of a smile cracked her face at the memory of how overjoyed he’d sounded.

“As I live and breathe! It’s… it’s really you!”

The inevitable question about her family followed shortly after. She’d dropped to the pavement, burying her face in her hands as harsh sobs wracked her body. Once her breathing had steadied and her knees ached against the cold concrete, Codsworth had gently guided her back home.

Blinking back into the present, she continued to drag the animal up the street. Ever since she’d broken the news, Codsworth had clung to any strand of hope, urging her to seek out a group rumoured to be holed up in a nearby town.

“Perhaps they might know something about young Shaun’s whereabouts, Mum.”

But she had dismissed the idea almost instantly, and though she hadn’t voiced it, she could tell he knew. The thought of being around anyone while carrying such heavy grief deeply unsettled her. She had no desire to force smiles, fake laughter, or pretend to care about their stories.

And then there was the matter of introducing herself and probing for leads or answers. In her world, the odds of strangers down the road knowing anything were slim, and the chances of them believing her were even slimmer.

The self-professed ‘woman out of time’.

How ridiculous.

After butchering the animal in the backyard and handing Codsworth the cuts, she buried herself in menial tasks. Balancing on the edge of a kitchen chair, she dusted the built-in bookcase by the front door with meticulous precision. Tucked at the back of the top shelf, an old Grognak the Barbarian magazine caught her eye. Taking it in hand, she ran her fingers over the vibrant cover.

“Nate loved these bloody things,” she murmured with a broken smile, passing it down to Codsworth. “Every first Sunday of the month, he’d go straight to Mrs O’Brien’s shop for the latest one.”

“Jungle of the Bat-Babies,” Codsworth read aloud, admiring the cartoon illustration before setting it down on the kitchen table. “I remember Sir watching the repeats every Saturday morning, too. It drove you mad.”

A huff of laughter escaped her lips. “That he did.”

“I am ever so sorry that some of your possessions are gone, Mum,” Codsworth said, his voice laden with guilt. “I turned most people away, but… well, some of them were rather violent, you see.”

Stepping down off the chair, she pulled him into a tight embrace, pressing a cheek to his metal shell. “Please don’t blame yourself—it’s just the world we live in now.” Once she’d taken a step back, she glanced around the living room. “Honestly, I was more surprised by what they took. Back in the day, they’d have gone for the television, not my socks.”

Codsworth turned his gaze to the television set and hummed in agreement. “It is rather peculiar, isn’t it?”

When the house was reasonably clean, Eva fetched her rifle and loitered by the front door, checking it over. She told Codsworth she was going to search the other houses for loot, and though she sensed his urge to steer her in the direction of Concord, he wished her well and closed the door behind her.

Daylight melted away as she moved back and forth between the houses, carrying armfuls of tools, clothing, ammunition, and any other items of use. By nightfall, she’d amassed a small collection that she contentedly organised alongside Codsworth.

Dinner was a large helping of InstaMash and roasted Radstag, as Codsworth had called it. Although it was still disgustingly bland, it was far better than what had greeted her inside every can she’d dared to open.

After enduring a cold shower, she lingered by the bedroom door, clutching a blanket as she stared at the bed. Their bed. Something about lying in it without Nate’s warmth at her back made her stomach turn, yet her neck throbbed at the thought of spending another night on the sofa.

Reluctantly, she pushed the dusty duvet onto the floor, crawled into bed, and pulled the blanket tight around her body.

At some point in the night, caught between sleep and waking, she rolled onto her back. In the background, the ticking of the clock suspended in the hallway grew louder with each passing second.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Eva tried to move, but her limbs felt like lead weights. Slowly, her eyelids cracked open. A black, slender, faceless figure stood at the foot of the bed, staring into the very depths of her soul.

Then, it spoke. Its voice split into two, both booming and whispering, its words of heavy accusation scratching at her mind.

“You should have listened, Evangelina.”

She clawed at the bed, desperate to escape the tangled blanket holding her captive. The figure surged forward, dragging her down the hallway by her feet. The clock ticked with a bloodcurdling dissonance, drowning out her panicked screams. Then, it violently hurled her onto the sofa facing the window.

Suddenly, everything snapped back to a semblance of normality. Bulbs flickered to life, electronics buzzed, and the room was flooded with warm ambience. Yet, beneath the surface, something felt disturbingly familiar.

The reason manifested before her very eyes just moments later. Perched at the edge of the other sofa sat her father, silently watching a muted news broadcast. Smoke curled from the cigar in his hand as television light danced across his face. Meeting her eyes, his deadpan voice cut through the tension.

“I wish you’d take this more seriously.”

Her body went into autopilot, repeating the exact words she’d once spoken in that very room.

“I’ve heard it all so many times, Dad. This shit has been rumbling for months, yet nobody has made the first move. And, the papers said peace talks are underway.”

He slapped a hand against the coffee table. “Fictitious words from a newspaper partially funded by the government! Those words are printed to prevent naive civilians from creating a mass panic.” With a deep breath, he fiddled with the button of his suit jacket before meeting her scowl. “They’re retreating, Evangelina.”

“Who are?”

“All of them—the President, the upper echelons. They know what’s coming, and time is not a luxury that you have.”

Eva folded her arms with a scoff, directing her scowl to the window. “And who whispered this shit into your ear this time, hmm?”

That was it. He pushed to his feet, face red and contorted as he loomed over her.

“You know what, if I had the means, I’d drag you there myself, and I swear that on your mother’s life. I did NOT raise a denialist of a daughter, and the sooner you wake u—”

“Father or not, you will stop right now.” She leapt to her feet, meeting him toe to toe. “While you sat in your cushty office, I was out there, watching men play the game of ‘my gun is bigger than yours’.” Jabbing a finger into his chest, she grit her teeth. “China. Won’t. Launch.”

He grabbed her by the shoulders, desperately locking eyes with her. “China knows about the virus. They’re on equal footing when it comes to nuclear warfare, but biological? That’s something else entirely.”

He let go and began pacing the room, rubbing his face with one hand. She sank back into the sofa’s cushions in silent shock, trying to steady the adrenaline-fuelled tremble of her hands.

“I… overheard things at work,” he continued, regaining his standard neutrality. “Things not meant for my ears. Those peace talks you read about? They fell apart before they even began. The President isn’t even in the country anymore.”

Nate had been sitting on the other part of the sofa, silently fiddling with a lighter through their heated exchange. Finally, he met her gaze.

“Your father is right, Eve. The economy isn’t ideal, but they’re the ones desperate for the oil. We’re advancing, and they’re getting backed into a corner. Desperate men do desperate things.”

When she gave a defeated nod, he twisted to face her father. “Is everything in place, Thomas?”

“Yes.” He handed over a wad of papers he’d pulled from the inner pocket of his jacket. “The facility is stocked, secured, and ventilated. Floor plans are there for both of you to review. Do you still have the keycard?”

When Nate looked questioningly at her, she muttered, “It’s in the safe.” Looking up at her father with deep resentment, she cut him off before he could speak. “I told you I wasn’t interested when you first gifted it to us, and I’m still not. As much as you keep pushing it, the bunker is not a suitable—” She swatted her hand through the air, moving her gaze to the television. “You know what? I’m not even going over it again.”

Nate moved to place the plans on a shelf by the front door before shaking hands with her father. “Thank you, Thomas—it means a great deal to us.” Then, turning his back to her, he whispered inaudibly into her father’s ear.

Eva stared at the two men in sheer disbelief. “I don’t know what even to say anymore, I really don’t.”

“Our family is strong, and my grandson deserves a chance at life,” her father said proudly, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t throw it all away out of pride and stubbornness.”

She didn’t dignify it with a response.

Checking his watch by the front door, he patted Nate on the back. “I have to leave, or I’ll miss the flight. Nathaniel, please talk some sense into your wife.”

They both laughed, but there was no humour to be found inside the room.

The moment he stepped outside, the darkness seeped in, climbing up the walls and across the ceiling until it had swallowed everything around her. When the sofa vanished beneath her, she fell backwards, landing on the firm mattress inside the bedroom.

Turning her head, she read the orange Nixie tubes of her alarm clock.

05:24 AM.

The house was silent, save for the relentless ticking in the hallway. Fully awake now, she swept the blanket off the floor and pulled it across her trembling body.

Though the nightmare had ended, their faces, voices, and words circled in her mind like penance for her failures. Her father had warned her, begged and pleaded, but she had ignored it. Pride and stubbornness had prevailed.

And Nate and Shaun had paid the price.

Sleep would not return willingly, that much she knew. Forcefully shoving the blanket aside, she clambered out of bed, harshly rubbing the tiredness from her eyes. Her steps faltered as she froze in the doorway.

Sunlight filtered through the window of the adjacent bedroom, bathing the blue crib in soft light.

She could almost hear Shaun’s muffled cries from that morning long ago. The last time she’d been in there, she’d been cooing to the infant as Nate leaned against the door frame, gesturing to the mobile suspended above their son.

“I forgot to say, but I fixed that the other day. Why don’t you give it a spin?”

When she snapped back to reality, she was leaning against the wall beside the crib. With a fragile smile, she pressed the button, listening to the faint, tinny melody as the red-and-white rockets spun in a slow circle.

“Do you hear that, Shaun? Daddy got your mobile working again!”

She remembered the pride in Nate’s eyes when she’d complimented it with a peck on the cheek. Now, gripping the crib’s wooden side, she just felt hollow.

Tears dripped onto the tiny mattress as she whispered, “I’m coming, sweetheart.”

Pushing her palms against her cheeks, she hurried back to the bedroom and tugged on the garish vault suit. Loading a black 10mm pistol she’d pulled from the bedside drawer, she strode down the hall.

Codsworth hovered in the kitchen, curiously observing as she laced up a pair of creased leather boots and strapped the rifle to her back. When he asked after her, she cut him off with a hasty, “I’m fine,” before slipping out the door and into the misty street.

With purpose in her stride, she headed for the bridge, sparing only a glance at the mossy blue sign that had once welcomed her home. Pressing forward, she crossed the cracked, wooden planks and saluted the Minutemen Monument.

Ahead, Concord waited. And for the first time, she didn’t look back.

Chapter Text

“The one absolutely unselfish friend that man can have in this selfish world is his dog.”

Eva’s father had said it years ago, soaking wet and caked in mud after wading through a river to rescue the family dog. Back then, she had paid it little mind. But now, with a barking ball of fur bouncing around at her feet, she finally understood.

Even in a world ravaged by mankind, the dog had approached her outside Red Rocket with nothing but trust in its eyes, nearly bowling her over with sheer excitement.

We don’t deserve them.

Further down the road, Concord offered a far less cordial welcome. Men and women clad in mismatched leather strips, spikes, and gas masks had surrounded the museum, taking potshots at the crumbling balcony.

A man with neon-pink, spiked hair swaggered into the middle of the street, bellowing up at the barricaded doors. “We’ll tear you from limb to limb!”

Crouched behind a rusted Pick-R-Up, Eva pulled the rifle from its holster and double-checked it was correctly loaded. Doubt quickly crept into her mind as she remembered the amount of missed shots she’d taken at the radstag the day before.

What if I can’t take any of them down?

Sanctuary was her safe space. She could turn back and hide inside those four walls of familiarity. But the panicked cries of a man who dared to peek out from the museum doors gnawed at her conscience.

She had to help.

Drawing in a deep breath, she raised the sight to her eye and pulled the trigger. The ringleader dropped first, his weapon clattering against the pavement. When blood pooled beneath the last attacker, Eva lowered the rifle, locking eyes with the stranger on the balcony.

Tilting the brim of his hat, he shouted down to her. “Please, help us! There are more raiders inside!”

With the dog at her heels, Eva kicked open the doors and drew her pistol. An unsuspecting raider crouched on an upper platform, only to topple backwards and crash to the floorboards as she put a hole in his forehead.

Room by room, level by level, she methodically picked the raiders off. A bullet narrowly missed her head, lodging itself into nearby brickwork, but still, she pressed on.

Stopping short of an oak door, she called out, “All clear.”

It creaked open, revealing the stranger who had nothing but relief written across his face. Clasping her hand firmly and ushering her into the side room, he introduced himself. “Preston Garvey, Commonwealth Minutemen.” He turned, introducing her to four others dotted about the room.

“Eva,” she replied, matching his grip and giving it a firm shake.

“We owe you our lives, Eva. Those raiders were closing in fast and—”

“You’re our saviour, kid,” an elderly lady croaked from where she sat on a sofa, scratching the dog between his ears. “This is the one, Garvey. The old world has come.”

Eva narrowed her eyes. “Old world? What do you know about me?”

Preston let out a weary sigh, slightly tipping his head back. “Mama, we’ve talked about this—”

“Shhh, Garvey.” The woman batted a hand, keeping her eyes fixed on Eva. “The Sight showed me swatches of blue and gold, bright as the morning sky. Said the one shadowed by the old world would save us. And here she is.” She looked down at the German Shepherd and smiled. “And you’ve brought us Dogmeat.”

Eva stepped closer, combing her fingers through the fur on his head. “That’s his name? I take it he’s yours then?”

Mama Murphy chuckled. “Oh no, he ain’t my dog. He’s… his own man. A free spirit.”

Drawing in a long breath, she faced Preston again. “So, what’s your plan now?”

“We caught wind of a potential settlement spot nearby. Sanctuary is its name. We were on our way there when Mama got too tired. Raiders didn’t take too kindly to us seeking shelter here.”

Her throat tightened as she looked to the window. “I know of the place. I happen to live there.”

Preston nodded, his shoulders sagging. “We didn’t know it was occupied. My apologies.”

Eva didn’t reply straight away. Raiders had only been a few minutes down the road, armed and dangerous. If more arrived and dared to venture further afield, she would come under serious threat. Outnumbered and unprotected, she’d be dead in an instant.

But this group held no hostility towards her. With the exception of the elderly woman, the others were able-bodied and could easily fend for themselves with the right armaments.

The thought of having new neighbours twisted her stomach, but the odds were clear: more people meant more protection.

Finally, she smiled. “There’s no need to apologise, it’s just me living there, and I only moved in recently. There are plenty of vacant houses you’re welcome to make use of.”

“We appreciate that more than you know, Eva. Thank you.”

A man styled like a greaser tapped her on the shoulder, clearing his throat. “There’s a suit of power armour on the roof. I considered fixing it up, but seeing as you saved our skins, you should take it.”

“I’ll pass, but thanks for the offer.”

Given she’d spent just over two hundred years encased in a steel shell, the last thing she desired was to climb into another.

“I’ll escort you to Sanctuary,” she said, inspecting her pistol. “But only if you’re willing to leave soon. I don’t plan on being here when more raiders come looking for their pals.”

“You heard the lady,” Preston said, his voice sharp as he turned to the others. “Gather your things, we’re moving in five.”

—

To make the newcomers feel welcome, Eva helped them settle into the houses, promising they needn’t worry about dinner that night. Once everyone was allocated a home, she strolled down the street with Preston at her side. Reaching into his coat, he pulled out a pouch and pressed it into her hand.

Her eyes snapped to his in confusion as she opened it. “Why are you giving me these?”

“Your payment,” he said, nodding to the tiny, cloth bag. “We appreciate your generosity, but it shouldn’t go unrewarded. Treat yourself to something nice.”

Eva furrowed her brows, shaking the contents. “But these are… bottlecaps?” She reached into the pocket on her vault suit and pulled out a roll of paper notes held together by an elastic band. “If I wanted to go shopping, I’d use these.”

Preston stared at her like she’d just stepped off a spaceship before chuckling. “Given your suit, I can only assume you came here after leaving a vault recently. You might’ve used that pre-war currency down there, but up here, caps are all that matter.”

Great—our life savings have quite literally become money to burn.

“Oh, okay. Well, thanks for telling me,” she said, pulling the pouch’s drawstring. “Anyway, I’ve got some things to sort out, but if you all group up under your carport, I’ll bring dinner over around five.”

Swinging the pouch around a finger, Eva slipped into the house and perched on the arm of the sofa, watching Codsworth dust a shelf.

“That group you heard about were a bunch of punk assholes,” she said casually, hooking a leg over her knee. “But I did meet another group—one that didn’t try to blow my head off. I hope you don’t mind, but I offered them the neighbouring houses.”

Codsworth floated closer, clutching a duster between one pincer. “Oh Mum, that’s wonderful news! Did they mention anything about young Shaun?”

Eva shook her head sadly, clutching the pouch tightly. “I haven’t told them anything yet. It doesn’t feel like the right time, given I barely know them. Oh, and I met a dog, too. He’s keeping one of the women company for now.”

“Well, you know what they say,” Codsworth said eagerly, waving the duster. “The more, the merrier!”

Later, sprawled across the sofa with a book in hand, Eva watched the small group gather outside Preston’s house. For over an hour, she watched them go back and forth, carrying planks of wood and buckets. Although she had no desire to socialise, she still felt obliged to lend them a hand.

Snapping the thick red book closed, she fetched a toolbox from the garden and joined Preston and Sturges as they tended to a broken window. Over the next six hours, she worked alongside the others, digging allotments, repairing water pumps, and patching roofs.

That evening, perched on a deckchair with a warm Nuka-Cola in hand, she listened as the group discussed their plans for the week ahead. She offered the occasional suggestion, watching the sun go down until Codsworth drifted over, clutching a steaming pot and a stack of bowls.

All eyes turned to the Mister Handy, curiously watching as he dished the portions out on a nearby workbench. Going over to help, she introduced him to the others, smiling as they introduced themselves one by one in return. Later, when Codsworth had floated away, she nodded towards her house. “Cods won’t be any trouble. He’s as harmless as a fly.”

Sturges laughed, stirring the radstag stew. “You’ve yet to see the flies around these parts, then. Don’t worry, you’re both one of us now.”

That night, with Dogmeat curled up at the foot of her bed, Eva felt a warmth inside her chest. She had known these people for less than a day, yet their inclusive attitude had choked her up.

It almost felt like a fresh start.

Over the next three days, the group worked tirelessly to repair and clean the neighbourhood. They turned piles of debris into bonfires that kept them warm as they ate each evening. Sturges kept mostly to himself, tinkering endlessly and almost dancing with joy once the main generator systems roared into life.

At the end of the fourth day, Eva sat cross-legged at the river’s edge, idly prodding a small fire with a stick. The flames crackled, spewing embers into the air. Before the bombs, the night would have been filled with the sounds of civilisation. Now, it was serenely silent, broken only by the occasional sounds of radstags.

Startled by the sound of a snapping branch, she watched Preston cautiously approach, his voice breaking the silence. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“Just thinking about how quiet everything is.” She gave the fire a firm prod, watching the flames lick at the wood. Leaning back, she patted the ground beside her. “Feel free to stay, but don’t let me keep you if you have somewhere to be.”

“Not at all,” he replied warmly, lowering himself to the floor and setting the weapon down in the grass. Tilting his head back, his eyes moved to the sky. “It’s a lot quieter here than where we came from. I suppose it must be strange for you, going from the hustle and bustle of a vault to… this.”

“If I tell you about my past, will you promise not to judge?”

Preston studied her quietly, lowering his voice. “You’re among friends now, Eva. Given that you risked yourself to save us, I don’t think we have any right to cast judgement in the first place.”

She kept her eyes fixed on the flames, watching them dance against the darkness. Eventually, she began to speak about that morning—about her plans, her family, and how it had all been torn from her under an orange coloured sky.

Her voice faltered. For a moment, she could almost hear the screaming again.

“They ushered us through a hallway, assigning us to a scientist who assured us it’d all be fine.”

Lifting her eyes to the sky, she closed them and smiled faintly as Nate’s face came into view. The man stood in a side room, testing the flex of the vault suit and muttering about how it’d been restrictive in unsavoury places. She laughed at his grumbles, but when she sneered at the clashing colours, he seized the moment to quip back.

“Look at it any harder and it’ll melt. Besides, gold will really bring out the colour of your eyes.”

Eva swallowed hard, almost choking on her words as she opened her eyes again. “They told us to climb into a bunch of pods, saying it was for sanitation purposes. The last thing I saw was Nate pressing a hand to the glass of his pod. The temperature dropped so fast—it made me feel like I hadn’t slept in a year. We stayed like that for two hundred and ten years.”

As her voice cracked, Preston placed a hand over hers, offering her a comforting look. “I hadn’t expected you to be from before the bombs,” he admitted quietly. “If you don’t mind me asking, what happened to your family?”

Eva closed her eyes. The warmth of the fire seemed to slip away, turning into an icy coldness. A face loomed in her memories. A man—bald, scarred, with a voice like gravel. His breath almost melted the thin layer of frost coating the glass pane of her pod. A voice spoke up behind him, sharp and assessing.

“This is the one. Here.”

He turned to a figure wearing a hazmat suit, taking a clipboard from their hands and staring into her family’s pod. Drawing a revolver, he levelled it at one of the vault’s scientists as he made a single demand.

“Open it.”

The scientist scrambled to obey, gloved hands working frantically at a control panel. A hiss pierced the chamber as the cover of Nate and Shaun’s pod lifted. Icy vapour rolled outward, spewing across the grey flooring.

Nate gasped, clutching Shaun tightly against his chest as he desperately fought for breath. The infant’s cries grew louder as the one wearing the hazmat attempted to pry him from his father’s arms.

Eva hammered her fists against the frosted glass until her throat was raw from screaming Nate’s name.

The mercenary stepped forward, training his gun on Nate. His baritone voice was menacing as he stared the terrified man down.

“Let the boy go. I’m only going to say this once.”

Nate’s eyes locked with Eva’s—full of fear, but silently upholding his defences. With a sharp shake of his head, he shouted back to them. “I’m not letting you take Shau—”

The gunshot cracked through the chamber like thunder in the dead of night.

Nate’s body jerked as the bullet struck his chest. Collapsing back into the pod’s cold embrace, the light quickly left his eyes as crimson spread across his vault suit. Shaun was swiftly ripped from his arms, his cries growing fainter as he was carried away.

Eva’s screams turned into ragged wails as her forehead met the frosted pane. After hitting a button on the controls, the scientist was pushed against a wall, his brains painting it seconds later.

As the pod’s systems kicked in and the temperatures dropped, Eva could almost feel the man whispering straight into her ear.

“At least we still have the backup.”

When she opened her eyes again, they stung at the edges. She quickly wiped away the moisture streaking her cheeks with her palms. Preston pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it into her hand as he spoke softly.

“I’m sorry, Eva. Nobody deserves to go through that. Least of all a mother.”

Her lip trembled as she whispered, “I know. He’s out there somewhere, but I don’t even know where to begin looking. I feel useless.”

“When we were on the move, we stayed for a few days in a city not too far from here,” Preston explained, gaze moving to the silhouette of the adjacent woodland. “A detective lives there, who specialises in missing persons. It might not be much, but it could be a starting point.”

Her head snapped up, hope sparking in her eyes. “Where’s this city?”

“It’s inside an old stadium. It’s a few miles southeast, but the big, green walls are hard to miss. I’d say it’s a good six or seven-hour walk.”

“Fenway Park,” she murmured, poking the fire once more. “That’ll be my first port of call, then. As much as I want to go there tomorrow, I need to prepare first. I’m ill-equipped, and my aim is shit. I nearly got my head blown off in the museum, and don’t fancy taking any chances further afield.”

Preston rose with a soft groan, wiping the barrel of his musket with a sleeve. “Small steps, Eva. You’ll get there.” After laying a hand on her shoulder, he wandered off into the darkness.

Tipping her head back, she admired the moon for a while. The ache was heavy in her chest, and her mind swirled with anxiety for the future, but a flicker of determination began to stir beneath it.

No matter what awaited out there, she would meet it head-on.

Chapter Text

Wake. Eat. Train. Help. Eat. Sleep. Repeat.

Seven days after rescuing Preston and his friends, Eva had settled into the routine with ease. Each sunrise sharpened her aim, and each sunset brought Sanctuary a little closer to civilisation.

On the ninth evening, she stood beside Preston, listening as a farmer’s exhausted voice crackled through his small orange radio. At their breaking point from nightly raids, the woman practically begged for help.

Although Preston assured her they’d lend a hand, Eva caught the uncertainty in his voice before he ended the transmission.

“I’ll admit,” he sighed, staring down the street, “I wasn’t expecting a first call like that. It’s too much; we don’t know how many raiders there are, and splitting the group opens Sanctuary up to an attack.”

“I’ll go.”

Eva spoke so quietly she wondered if she’d imagined it. But when Preston’s eyes snapped to hers, she knew he’d heard every word.

And no matter how many times he attempted to dismiss her, telling her it was too soon, too dangerous, she dug her heels in and pushed back.

“Sooner or later, I’ll have to go farther than a mile down the road. My son isn’t going to appear out of thin air, and planting crops all day won’t bring me any closer to him.”

Preston’s expression softened into pride. “Whether you realise it or not, you’ve come a long way since we met.” He tilted his head, gazing at the sky. “It feels good to see community spirit again. For a while, I didn’t think we’d ever find peace again.”

Eva reached down to snag a bottle from between her feet before taking a sip of the warm, sickly cola. “You never told me where you all came from.”

“Quincy. It was our home for a long time. Then one day, one of the residents joined a mercenary group, and Mama started having visions of the town being attacked. Although opinions were divided, we called in the Minutemen, just in case.”

“And they came?”

“They went above and beyond to help. When the Gunners showed up, demanding we surrender the town, the Minutemen drove them off. A few nights later, they returned in the dead of night. Only the five of us made it out.”

Eva hesitated, turning the bottle in her hands. “Jun and Marcy… did they lose someone? I heard them crying a few nights ago.”

Preston’s shoulders sagged as his eyes closed. “The cowards stabbed their son, Kyle, while he slept.”

Clenching her fist tighter around the bottle, she met his pained gaze. “Law and order used to rule everything. Now people steal and kill like it’s nothing, and it sickens me.”

“It’s a brutal world out there. I—we—owe it to the Minutemen to continue their legacy.”

Eva swung the empty bottle between her knees. “I couldn’t agree more—you’re on the right path.” Pushing to her feet, she wiped the corner of her lip with the back of her hand. “I’d better get some sleep. I won’t make it past the bridge otherwise.”

With a huff of laughter, the older man tipped his hat. “If you change your mind tomorrow, don’t be afraid to tell us so. There’s no pressure at all.”

Walking backwards toward her house, Eva flashed him a cheeky grin. “I’ve got this.”

And she meant it.

Come morning, she strode across the wasteland, dented combat armour strapped to her limbs and torso, guns locked, loaded, and holstered against her vault suit. Hours later, she shook hands with the farmers of Tenpines Bluff, having single-handedly cleared every raider from the Corvega Assembly Plant.

Three mornings later, a distress call came in from Abernathy Farm. Four hours later, she found herself on a hill overlooking the settlement, admiring how the settlers had fabricated shacks around a pylon. Shortly after, she sat in one, listening to two parents recount how their daughter had been slaughtered during a raid.

Comforting the man in her arms, the mother met Eva’s uncomfortable gaze. “To rub it in, they stole her locket and destroyed all of our crops as they left.”

Fixing her stare on a photograph of the girl on a nearby table, Eva realised just how little decency remained in the world. People lived in fear, desperately trying to make ends meet, only to be killed for a pittance of goods or caps.

Storming towards the nearby satellite station, a deadly mixture of grief and anger bubbled in her stomach, fuelling each step. Moving through the narrow hallways, she turned the concrete structure into a slaughterhouse.

A knife caught her shoulder, slicing thinly through fabric and flesh, but adrenaline instantly nullified the sting. As the assailant’s head was reduced to a mutilated mess at the hands of her rifle, their leader emerged from the shadows. Ack-Ack, the pig-tailed psycho, stood grinning like a maniac, unfazed as his men bled out at his feet.

“You’re disgusting,” Eva snarled as she fired a round into his knee. He dropped, howling in pain as he rolled across the floor. She knelt, gripping his chin with a sadistic smile on her face. “I hope you feel every bit of it for what you put those farmers through.”

When he spat in her face, she blew a hole into his other knee. His cries of pain echoed through the corridor as he clawed at the floor, desperate to escape. Indulging in his agony, she rose, ending it all with a clean shot to the back of his head.

Among the heaps of loot and chems, she found the locket. Running a thumb across the glass, she slipped the golden chain into her pocket.

Hopefully, it’ll bring them some comfort, even if it won’t bring her back.

She returned to Sanctuary as the evening approached, ignoring the blood oozing from her shoulder as she proudly delivered another message of alliance to Preston.

That night, she huddled around a fire with her newfound friends. Brahmin roasted over the flames as warm beers were uncapped, courtesy of a travelling trader Sturges had referred to as ‘Trashcan Carla’.

As Mama Murphy began to doze off in an old deckchair, Preston rose, tapping his fork against a bottle.

“Just two weeks ago, we found ourselves facing some of the darkest times of our lives,” he began, eyes sweeping the circle. “Then, Eva showed up. Regardless of her own issues, she stuck her neck out to help, even though she knew there was nothing in it for her. Had she turned around that morning, we might not have lived to see today.”

Heat tinged Eva’s cheeks as all eyes fell on her. Avoiding them, she counted the number of cracks in the stone floor.

“In just a few days, she pulled strangers out of dire circumstances and left long-lasting impressions on them,” Preston continued. “The Commonwealth needs more people like Eva—selfless, generous, and compassionate. A leader who inspires others and guides them through the toughest of times.” The man smiled brightly as the others nodded in agreement. “It is for this reason that we’d be honoured if you’d take up the position of General of the Minutemen.”

Her throat tightened as words refused to form in it. Startled by Sturges patting her on the back, she caught how Mama Murphy watched her through the heat haze.

“I…” Her heart drummed inside her chest as she met Preston’s eyes. Half of her wanted the ground to swallow her whole, and the other half wanted to shout her acceptance from the rooftops. Amidst the loss and chaos, she yearned to shape the world into something better. To set an example for what life should entail.

Pushing to her feet, she stepped around the fire to shake Preston’s hand. “I accept your offer. Thank you.” Meeting the eyes of the others, she finally gave them a genuine smile. “I’m so glad I met you all.”

The group spent the remainder of the night clinking bottles and passing chunks of meat around the circle, bathing in the pale moonlight covering Sanctuary as they traded stories.

For the first time since leaving the vault, Eva slept soundly as the weight of pride sat heavily in her chest. Day by day, the Minutemen grew stronger, as did she.

—

“I really don’t mind accompanying you, Eva.”

It was the third time Preston had offered the following morning, voice laced with concern as he insisted she’d be safer heading into the city with company at her side.

Sitting on a faded yellow crate, Eva ran a rag slowly down the barrel of her rifle. “As much as I appreciate the offer, I’d rather not spend my time worrying about whether or not this place is under attack.”

She rose with a quiet groan, pulling her olive combat armour from the crate and wrapping one of the thick black straps across her chest. “Besides,” she added, tugging a piece into place on her shin, “I’ve got Dogmeat.”

Preston arched a brow. “Well, that’s reassuring. When the going gets tough, he can lick your enemies to death.”

The corners of her lips twitched as she caught the spark of mischief in his eyes. He pulled her into a quick, parting hug with a firm, “Be safe, General.”

With a few pats against his cheek, she straightened her posture. “Always, Garv.”

Once Dogmeat had finished cocking a leg against a lamppost, Eva swung on a backpack and set off on the long trek to Diamond City, occasionally flicking her eyes to her Pip-Boy to ensure she hadn’t strayed from the route. Although driving into the city had once been a luxury, it never gave her the same opportunity to appreciate nature as walking did. Now, navigating the winding roads, she marvelled at how nature had reclaimed the world.

Passing the former Drumlin Diner, Eva stopped in her tracks, taking in the busted neon signs and broken windows. In that moment, she could practically taste the strawberry thick-shakes and heavily salted fries she and Nate would order before heading to the drive-in pictures each Friday night.

Pushing forward with a pang of longing in her heart, she twisted the dial of her Pip-Boy until Dion DiMucci’s “The Wanderer” crackled through the speaker. Humming along, she hurled a bright red ball down the cracked road for Dogmeat to chase.

Their game of fetch continued for a while, until a steady beeping sound cut through the music, pulling her attention back to the device strapped to her wrist. Twisting a dial, she tuned into a signal labelled ‘Military Frequency AF95.’

“This is Scribe Haylen of Reconnaissance Squad Gladius to any unit in transmission range. Authorisation Arx. Ferrum. Nine. Five. Our unit has sustained casualties, and we're running low on supplies. We're requesting support or evac from our position at Cambridge Police Station. Automated message repeating.”

Eva stared blankly at the screen. In a world as lawless as this, she hadn’t even considered that the military might still exist.

Glancing at the map, she scanned her proximity to both the police station and the city. A detour would risk her reaching the city before nightfall, and she had no intention of wandering the streets after dark.

But if I come through this way tomorrow and find a bunch of dead soldiers, it’ll be on me for ignoring their call.

Following the sounds of distant gunfire, she reached the outskirts of Cambridge, glass crunching underfoot as she crept through an alleyway. With a scratch beneath the chin, she whispered to Dogmeat. “Go home, boy. I can’t risk you getting hurt.”

Although he stubbornly whined, he bounded away when she gave a sharp point in the direction of the road. Once he was out of sight, she crouch-walked along the wall, pistol in hand.

Peering around the corner of a barricade, she caught sight of a soldier clad in power armour, shouting and firing as he struggled to fend off a group of—

Zombies?

Mantling a railing, she stepped in front of two soldiers, shielding them as she fired off three shots. Glancing over her shoulder, she noted how one soldier was slumped against the wall, clutching a bloodied wound on his side as the other hovered behind her, fumbling with a battered laser pistol.

“You’re ill-equipped.” Her words were firm as she jerked her head towards the man on the floor. “Tend to his wounds. I’ll cover you.”

She pivoted, pistol raised as drove after drove of the undead stormed the compound, hissing and flailing. With heavy bursts of laser fire and well-timed shots, they ended up as little more than charred heaps.

When the courtyard fell into silence, she stepped forward, standing beside the hulking figure at the base of the steps. Both of their lips curled in disgust as they examined the putrid, festering flesh from afar.

The soldier turned, looming over her as pure irritation hardened his expression. “We appreciate the assistance, civilian, but what’s your business here?”

Eva met his eyes, surprised at how sharp and defensive he sounded. “You called. I came.”

If looks could kill, she would’ve dropped dead right on that spot.

His eyes narrowed. “An attitude like that is a surefire way of getting yourself ejected from this compound.”

Suppressing a smirk, her gaze drifted to the other two soldiers. “I heard your Scribe’s distress call and thought I’d do my good deed for the day. Do I collect my gold star from you, or…?”

With a tightened jaw and clenched fists, his stare was unrelenting.

“Well,” she said with an awkward chuckle, holstering her pistol. “I have somewhere to be. See you around.”

She had only taken a few steps when a sudden yank of her arm pulled her back. Coming face to face with the soldier, his eyes flicked down to the weapon. “Until I’ve determined whether or not you will pose a threat to us later down the line, you will remain here. Where did you come from? Who are you with?”

She tried pulling her arm free, but his gauntlet held her firmly in place. “Oh, so I help you, and then end up your prisoner?” She cocked a hip, glaring up at him. “I’m from a vault, if you really must know.”

“I find that a bit difficult to believe.” He released her arm, but remained as intimidating as ever. “Though you possess the clothing, vault inhabitants are rarely combat-trained and lack basic survival skills. And yet, you charged in, took point, and engaged those ferals like a professional. I will ask one more time; where are you from?”

She gritted her teeth and folded her arms. “You know what, I have a feeling you’d disbelieve anything that leaves my mouth.” She jabbed a finger at the blood-streaked porch leading into the police station. “Speaking of survival, your man is bleeding out while you insist on interrogating a stranger. Are you waiting for more of those”—she nodded towards a corpse—“things to tear through you? With defences this piss poor, you’re easy pickings.”

For the first time, his expression cracked. Shock flickered across his face as he looked to the remainder of his team.

“You’re low on supplies.” She quietened her voice so only he could hear. “Don’t try to deny it, either, because I can see through you. I’ll help him.”

The walls were back up in an instant. He stepped closer, blocking the others from her view. “Thank you for your concern, but we will manage. If you wish to leave, you may now do so.”

Her expression softened ever so slightly as she remained rooted to the spot. “I saw the body of your comrade behind me. You’re risking another life by being stubborn, and for what?” Pulling her backpack off her shoulders, she pulled out a small, white first-aid box. “Let me help.”

With a deep inhale of indecision, he looked over his shoulder once more. “Fine,” he said, meeting her eyes with a short nod. “But you’ll be under strict supervision. Don’t try anything.”

“Wouldn’t expect anything less,” she muttered, heading up the steps and kneeling beside the injured man. Unclipping the tub, she asked, “What’s your name, soldier?”

“Knight—ahh—Knight Rhys,” he hissed, jaw tight as he kept his eyes fixed on the concrete.

Eva hummed in acknowledgement, uncorking a bottle with her teeth as the woman, presumably the Scribe, helped roll his flight suit down. Dabbing a cloth with alcohol solution, she pressed it to the bright red gash down the right side of his waist. “You’re going to be alright, Rhys,” she murmured, injecting a stimpack and dressing the wound. With a grumble of gratitude, he zipped the flight suit back up.

“It won’t need stitches, but keep it clean or you’ll catch a nasty infection,” she said firmly, tossing two stimpacks and a handful of dressings into a container beside him. “These should see you through for a while.”

She checked that the Scribe was unharmed before rising and brushing grit and grime from her knees. With the first-aid kit in hand, she ran her gaze over their leaders’ armour.

It may be tough, but it’s not impenetrable.

She arched a brow. “Are you injured?”

His response was as expected: short, blunt, and defensive. “Negative.”

“Alright.” She shrugged, shoving the case back into her pack and slipping it onto her back. Meeting his gaze, her smile was full of sarcasm. “I’d advise getting your team inside that perfectly good building. Right now, you’re like a bunch of sitting ducks with bullseyes painted on your foreheads.”

The man was rendered speechless by her sudden brashness. His mouth opened and closed, making him look like a fish out of water. With a loud huff, he ordered the others to head inside before stomping in after them without another word.

Eva studied her Pip-Boy, calculating whether or not she’d reach the city in time. If she kept moving, she could reach it in time—provided she didn’t make any further detours or run into trouble. Adjusting her pack and reloading her pistol at the edge of the compound, she was about to head down the road when the station door flew open behind her.

“I did not eject you from the compound, civilian,” the man’s voice boomed across the open area. “If you require a brief amount of respite, you are welcome to take it here.”

She turned slowly, shifting her weight onto one leg. “Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.”

“I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t.”

The door banged shut behind him, leaving her staring at the spot where he’d just been. As pig-headed, blunt, and almost ungrateful as he’d acted, she could tell by the insignias painted on his armour that he held a high rank within the group.

Part of her wanted to leave him to his own devices, given he hadn’t even thanked her for the trouble. But another part was curious as to what the military had become in the wake of the bombs. If she walked away, she might never cross paths with them again, but if she stayed, she could open herself up to new opportunities.

With a reluctant sigh, she re-holstered her pistol and began moving back towards the police station.

She was going to get reacquainted with the military, after all.

Chapter Text

Slouched on a wooden chair in the foyer, Eva rummaged through her pack for a can of purified water. She cracked it open, took a sip, and tried not to roll her eyes as Rhys launched into his fifth retelling of how he’d nearly been ‘sliced in half’.

God only knows how the Scribe hasn’t slapped him yet.

Across the room, their leader sifted through various tins, mentally tallying their supplies. When he finally looked up, his eyes locked onto her. With a subtle jerk of his head, he silently asked her to join him in a side room.

Inside, Eva perched on the edge of a metal desk, leaning back on her hands as he entered. “Is everything alright?” she asked, tilting her head.

“Negative.” His tone carried the same irritated grumble as before. “I’ve been trying to send a distress call to my superiors, but the signal’s too weak. I’m a man down, and our supplies are depleting fast.”

Eva pursed her lips and nodded slowly. “Sounds rough.”

“There’s a facility nearby—ArcJet Systems. We believe it contains the Deep Range Transmitter technology we need.” He shifted, pressing his back to the wall opposite her. “We were en route when those ferals overran us. With Knight Rhys incapacitated, we have no chance of retrieving it. Our code forbids solo operations under such conditions, nor will I abandon a wounded man under my command.”

Eva sighed, glancing to the doorway and watching Haylen fuss over Rhys. “And now comes the part where you ask for my help.”

He hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with the idea. “Under normal circumstances, I would refrain from requesting assistance from civilians. If you would accompany me to ArcJet and help retrieve the transmitter, I will ensure you are adequately compensated for your trouble.”

Desperately willing away the smirk ghosting her lips, Eva looked away. “You know, my father always said manners cost nothing.”

With a sharp exhale, he muttered, “Please.”

“That’s better.” She leaned further back on her palms, idly rolling her foot in a slow circle. “Although you haven’t told me a single thing about yourselves. I’m not sure I want to follow a stranger to some random aerospace facility.”

“You make a fair point. I am Paladin Danse.” He nodded towards the doorway. “That is Scribe Haylen, and Knight Rhys, as you’re already aware. We’re part of the Brotherhood of Steel.”

Brotherhood of Steel? What a ridiculous name.

“…The who?”

His jaw tightened. Clearly, her lack of knowledge was testing his patience. “Our order seeks to understand the nature of technology—its power, its meaning to us as humans. We fight to secure that power from those who would abuse it.”

Gulping down the last of her water, Eva crushed the can with a grin. “Did your superiors make you eat that script before leaving base?” She tossed the can into a nearby waste bin. “Fine, I’ll help you.”

Without a word, he turned and strode back into the foyer, retrieving his helmet from the desk and locking it into place with an oddly theatrical flourish. His tinny, metallic voice came through the speaker. “Feel free to resupply here. If we leave now, we should make it back before dark. I’ll meet you outside.”

“Eva,” she called after him, stepping into the lobby. When he paused by the door, she added, “My name’s Eva.”

He didn’t reply, but the slight tilt of his helmet indicated he’d heard her.

Following him out of the station and through an alleyway, she had to half-jog to keep up with his strides. Beneath the clank of his armour, she caught fragments of a muttered complaint.

“…Spent too long in this godforsaken wasteland already.”

Eva stepped around a mangled corpse and hurried to his side. “I take it times were tough even before the army of the dead decided to attack?”

“Those freaks of nature were the least of our concerns,” he huffed, eyes fixed on the nearby river. “We’ve lost four good men already. Land mines, mutants, ghouls—you name it. We were sent here to track down another recon squad that had gone MIA. After all we’ve encountered, I have little doubt about their current status.”

“I’m sorry, Paladin,” she said softly. “Loss is never easy, especially when it concerns those under your charge. Just… take comfort in the fact that your continuance ensures their sacrifices weren’t in vain.”

When he spoke again, his voice was far quieter. “It doesn’t make it any easier.”

They walked the rest of the way in silence.

At ArcJet’s entrance, Danse threw out an arm across the doors, halting her. Flicking the safety off his rifle, he addressed her with renewed authority. “We do this clean and quiet: no heroics, and by the book. Understood?”

“Understood.”

They’d barely moved through half of the ground level before coming under fire from skeletal robots. Eva dove behind a desk as blue bolts whizzed through the air. Undeterred, Danse advanced, heavily reliant on his armour as he smashed their skulls open with the butt of his rifle.

When the last one fell, twitching and sparking, Eva mantled over the desk and rushed to his side. “What in the ever-living fuck were those!?”

Danse crouched, inspecting a glowing baton before throwing it aside. “Synths.”

Rising to his full height, he looked down at her. “How can you live here and not know what those abominations are?”

She gestured to her body. “As I told you, I came from a vault. I didn’t just wake up one day and decide to loot this disgusting-ass suit from a stranger.”

He studied her for a moment before humming in suspicion. “Then you’d better learn fast. Shortly after our arrival, we detected unusual energy readings, and later discovered they were coming from an organisation known as the Institute. They’re the ones manufacturing these… things.”

“But why?” she asked, following him through a narrow hallway. “What’s the point in them?”

“They’re cannon fodder. Disposable. Replicable. Programmable,” he replied, destroying a ceiling turret and kicking it aside. “They infiltrate society, kidnap civilians, and replace them with their latest Gen-3 models. They’re so lifelike and almost indistinguishable from real humans that they make my skin crawl.”

The thought of artificial doppelgangers existing turned her stomach. Following him up a steep staircase, she watched him take three or more steps at a time.

“This is why we need to re-establish contact,” he muttered. “The Brotherhood will need to dedicate everything to eliminating the Institute before history repeats itself. Humanity doesn’t need to be destroyed for a second time.”

At least there are others out here trying to make a difference after all.

Reaching an upper level, they rounded a corner and came face to face with another wave of synths. Once they’d been taken out, Eva leaned against a wall, watching Danse search through various crates.

“They were gathered here for a reason,” he said, slamming a lid shut. “Fan out and check the remains. They may have been after the transmitter, too.”

A metal box adorned with switches and antennas caught her eye. Removing it from a shelf, she gave it a small shake. “Is this it?”

Danse crossed the room in two strides and plucked it from her hands. Even with his face concealed in metal, she could sense his relief. “It is. Good work, civi—” He caught himself, clearing his throat. “Eva. We’ll take the service elevator back to the surface and return to the station.”

“Right behind you, Paladin.”

—

Flicking through a torn issue of Tesla Science and munching on a tube of stale potato chips in the corner of the police station, Eva watched the trio fuss over the transmitter. Though she was disappointed in not reaching the city, she couldn’t deny the satisfaction she felt in knowing she’d helped the tight-knit team through their hardship. At the very least, the Paladin seemed to be less stressed as he worked shoulder to shoulder with the Scribe, offering her occasional suggestions.

After what felt like hours, the machine finally crackled to life. Eva’s eyes lifted from the page as Haylen patted both men on the back. All three smiled from ear to ear as a deep, commanding voice cut through the static.

“Elder Maxson, Citadel Command. Identify yourself. Over.”

Danse snatched the transmitter off the table and began pacing in a tight circle.

“This is Paladin Danse of Recon Squad Gladius, reporting from Cambridge Police Station. Over.”

There was a brief period of silence before the reply came.

“Paladin. We’d grown concerned after contact was lost. Report. Over.”

If he stares any harder at that radio, it’ll crack in half.

“We’ve encountered difficulties, sir,” Danse said, keeping his voice steady as he stood in the centre of the lobby. “Full details will follow in a written report, but we made several unsuccessful attempts to re-establish contact. Over.”

Across the room, Haylen and Rhys sat quietly on their bedrolls, their eyes fixed on their commanding officer as he briefed the Elder on the Institute and the deteriorating state of the Commonwealth as a whole.

A muffled conversation could be heard on the other end before Maxson’s voice returned.

“Acknowledged, Paladin. The Institute represents a significant threat, and terminating its operations will take precedence. The Prydwen is docked at Adams AFB, having returned from the Maryland operation last week. Departure is scheduled for first light—estimated travel time is six hours, weather permitting. Prepare for our arrival. Maxson out.”

Eva kept her eyes on the magazine, feigning disinterest in the exchange. A moment later, the bulk of Danse’s power armour entered her peripheral vision.

His tone was firm but sincere as he looked down at her. “This wouldn’t have been possible without your assistance.”

“A thank you wouldn’t go amiss,” she quipped, smirking as Haylen attempted to stifle a laugh behind her hand. “Don’t worry, I’m only pulling your leg. I’m just glad you’ve got things sorted now.”

Danse gently set a laser rifle on the table and took a step back. “Your compensation, as promised.”

“This is… amazing.” Eva blinked, slightly flustered as she turned the weapon over in her hands. “Thank you, Paladin. I haven’t the faintest idea how it works, though.”

Her fingers traced the tiny yellow lettering etched along the bottom of the barrel.

Righteous Authority. Interesting.

Setting it carefully back on the table, she looked between the three soldiers. “So, what’s your plan now?”

Danse straightened, placing the transmitter on a nearby table. “We’ll hold position until the rest of the unit arrives tomorrow.”

“You can’t be serious.” She scoffed, shaking her head in sheer disbelief. “Once I leave, it’s just the three of you again.”

“Once you depart, we will fortify the compound,” he replied. “It’ll serve as a suitable outpost for the foreseeable future.”

“Before I showed up, I was headed for the city,” Eva said, slipping the magazine into her backpack. “It’s too late to go now, so I’ll be heading back to my settlement. It’s safe, and there’s plenty to go around. You’re welcome to take refuge there until tomorrow.”

Danse moved behind a desk, shuffling through a stack of papers he’d pulled from his armour. “We appreciate the offer, but we must decline. There are roughly twenty hours until their arrival, and we needn’t request civilian support in the interim.”

Eva let out a quiet groan and got to her feet. Flashing Haylen and Rhys a polite smile, she tilted her head towards the door, wordlessly signalling for the Paladin to follow.

Outside, she scuffed her boot across the porch. Meeting his eyes as he emerged, she noted how he was back to being as rigid and guarded as ever.

“You know,” Eva said softly, “asking for help doesn’t make you weak. Not everyone’s out for your head.”

Danse met her eyes, leaning a shoulder against the wall. “We’re in a stronger position now. We don’t require further support.”

“Your Knight’s still injured, and your Scribe looks like she couldn’t shoot a legless roach—no offence.” Eva sighed, stepping closer and searching his eyes. “You’re running on fumes, Paladin. Pride won’t keep you alive if something else decides to come knocking.”

Danse’s brow furrowed. “Why offer us hospitality? Do you expect something in return?”

“I should probably be offended by that,” she said with a humourless laugh. “But I get it. Kindness is rare in a world where everyone’s out for themselves. But for the record, though, I didn’t help you so that I could get a reward.”

For a minute or two, his expression was unreadable as he considered her words. Then, with a short nod, he dropped the walls.

“Very well. We’ll accompany you to this settlement of yours. Once our command unit arrives tomorrow, we’ll be out of your way.” Pushing away from the wall, he added, “I’ll tell the others now.”

He’d barely stepped into the lobby when she called after him, voice light and teasing as the door slowly closed.

“And don’t dally! I want to be home before dinnertime!”

Chapter Text

Standing at the corner of the street, Eva gestured to one of the aqua-blue houses, turning to the Knight and Scribe.

“You two can take this house for the night. It’s vacant, so you needn’t worry about unexpected roommates. If you need a bite to eat, there’s a shack further up the street.”

As the Scribe offered her thanks, Eva was nearly knocked off her feet by Dogmeat pouncing at her, barking excitedly. Running a hand through his fur, she frowned when Rhys piped up behind her.

“That your mutt?”

Eva let go of the dog and slowly turned to face him. “Excuse me?”

Haylen quickly attempted to intervene, stepping closer to her. “Rhys doesn’t mean anyth—”

“I said,” the Knight cut in, side-eyeing the Scribe. “Is that your mutt?”

“For one, he’s a dog, not a mutt. In fact, he’s probably more civilised than you, and whines a whole lot less, too.” Eva smirked as she caught the bob of his Adam’s apple. “I’d suggest showing some manners in my settlement, or you can spend the night in one of the shopping carts we recently pulled from the river.”

When he mumbled something, his eyes darting between both Haylen and Danse, she leaned in, cupping her ear. “What was that? I’m rather hard of hearing these days.”

Red crept up the Knight’s cheeks as he spoke louder. “Thank you for giving us a place to stay.”

“That’s better,” she said, accompanying it with a sarcastic slap against his back. “Now, I’ve got to find your Paladin a place to kip, so I’ll leave you both to it.”

Once they’d headed inside, she ventured further up the street with Dogmeat and Danse at her side. The streetlights began to flicker into life as the sun dipped behind the horizon.

“General,” Preston greeted, cutting across the grass to meet her. “You’re back earlier than expected. Did you find the city alright?”

“As per usual, I got sidetracked.” She rolled her eyes playfully and nodded towards Danse. “I spent the day with this one. Lent his team a hand with some business. They’ll all be staying the night.”

Eva stood awkwardly between them, sensing how they were sizing each other up.

With a flick of her hand, she ran through the introductions. “Preston—Paladin Danse of the Brotherhood of Steel. Paladin—Preston Garvey of the Commonwealth Minutemen.”

“The Minutemen,” Danse said thoughtfully. “I’ve heard of your organisation. One of the few noble ones occupying the Commonwealth.”

“Can’t say I’ve heard of the Brotherhood of Steel,” Preston replied, though his tone was polite. “It’s a pleasure to meet you nonetheless.”

After a short catch-up, Preston departed, leaving her standing in the middle of the road with the Paladin as she tapped her chin. “Now… where to put you.”

“I’ll use the same building Knight Rhys and Scribe Haylen are occupying,” Danse said. “I do not expect to be treated differently because of my rank.”

“Oh, I know. That wasn’t the case.” Her gaze shifted to the house on the corner. “I just thought they deserved some, uh… alone time.”

Danse gave her a look of confusion. “To grieve?”

“No. Alone time.”

For a moment, he stared blankly at her. Then, realisation dawned on him as his eyes widened. “They— they’re not romantically involved, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“Need I add ‘blindness’ to your list of traits?” Eva teased with a faint grin. “I’ve known them for a few hours, and even I caught them holding hands when they thought nobody was looking. Give them some space—they deserve it.”

“Regardless of what you believe you saw, they are nothing more than—”

“Well,” she interrupted, stepping back with raised palms, “feel free to disturb them. I’m sure we’ve got a pair of earplugs kicking about that you can borrow.”

A flush crept up the Paladin’s neck as he looked away. “That… won’t be necessary.”

With a soft chuckle, Eva went back to tapping her chin. “The remaining houses will probably crush you in your sleep. You’re welcome to the spare room in Preston’s house, or you can take the living room in mine.”

“I am not sleeping in a house with a stranger, no matter their alliance to you.”

Eva swept her arms theatrically towards her own house. “Then onwards to mine it is.” As they crossed the street, she glanced up at him. “Hungry?”

“Affirmative.”

When she mimicked his tone in a robotic voice, he scowled. “I’m unsure why you’re attempting to get under my skin, but you’re failing.”

God, it’s so easy to wind this guy up.

Unlocking her front door, she could feel his hulking figure looming behind her. Turning slowly, she ran her eyes down his armour. “You’re not coming in here with that lump on.”

Danse huffed. “I’m not leaving it outside for civilians to tamper with.”

Eva folded her arms. “And I’m not having you traipse mud through my house. Either you leave it under the carport, or you take Rhys’s reserved spot in the shopping cart. The choice is yours.”

“I cannot risk it being tamp—”

Eva tipped her head back with a dramatic groan. “Nobody comes within an inch of my house, and your power armour isn’t some kind of marvel that everyone wants to cop a feel of—no offence.”

With an inaudible mutter, he stomped off towards the side of her house. She leaned against a post, watching as the rear of the armour opened with a hiss. When he stepped out, tugging the hood off his head and running a hand through thick black hair, her jaw nearly hit the floor.

Never in a million years did I expect him to look like that.

Her eyes scanned his body, taking in the sheer amount of muscle he was carrying beneath a tight orange flight suit. When he turned, she quickly averted her gaze.

Get a hold of yourself. You’re a married woman, and he’s an arrogant twat.

“I thought I’d have to pry you out of that thing with a can opener,” she muttered, moving to unlock the side door. “I have only one rule, and that’s to be respectful. That includes refraining from making any comments about my Mister Handy.”

“A Mister Handy?” Danse frowned, holding the fusion core at his side. “Why do you have one of those?”

“He’s my family. Simple as.”

Danse snorted, but soon quieted when she glared at him. She raised her brows expectantly and waited until he gave her a small, guilty nod.

Kicking off her boots to the side, she pointed to the spot beside them with a curt, “No shoes inside.”

“Good evening, Mum!” Codsworth greeted her as she pushed open the side door. Floating closer, his excitement bubbled. “Was your trip to the big city a success? Do you have any leads on our young Shaun?”

“Sorry to disappoint, but I didn’t make it there.” Eva shifted, avoiding his curious gaze. After a brief explanation of her earlier whereabouts, she gestured to the man behind her. “This is Paladin Danse. He’ll be our guest for the night.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Mister Danse!” Codsworth turned his eyes to the Paladin. “Any friend of Mum’s is a friend of mine.”

Danse stared at the robot until Eva shot him a sharp look. “Uh… it’s nice to meet you, too.”

I swear this guy is more mechanical than Cods.

“Codsworth, would you mind helping Loretta and the others tonight?” Eva asked, leaning a hip against the island. “We’ve got a few guests staying, and they’d undoubtedly appreciate an extra hand.”

“Of course, Mum!” he replied cheerily, floating towards the front door. “I shall see you later.”

When the door closed behind him, Eva turned to face Danse. “Are you allergic to anything?”

Moving his gaze from the front door to meet hers, he replied, “No.”

“Alright.” Eva gestured to the dining table as she rounded the counter. “Take a seat and make yourself comfortable then.”

As she cooked, she could feel his eyes on her, watching her every move.

Probably thinks I’m going to poison him.

An hour later, she set the food down on the table. “Pan-seared brahmin, roasted carrots and corn, and red wine sauce,” she said proudly, pulling two glasses from a cupboard and uncorking the wine. “Do you drink?”

Danse shook his head. “It’s forbidden out in the field.”

“You’re not technically in the field, though,” she teased, pouring herself a generous glass. “Come on, live a little,” she encouraged with a wink, “I won’t snitch.”

Before he could protest, she poured him a smaller glass before taking a seat on the opposite side of the table.

“Thank you for providing dinner,” he said quietly, cutting into a piece of the steak. “Your cooking is… sufficient.”

“Sufficient?” Eva burst out laughing, pressing a hand to her heart. “You wound me, Paladin.”

“Apologies. It’s of far higher quality than what we’re accustomed to.”

Sipping her wine, she glanced at the window. “Everything’s grown and reared on Minutemen soil. Beats whatever tinned slop people pass off as food these days.”

“Self-sufficiency is rare to see,” Danse admitted as he began to devour the dinner like a man starved. “Most civilians are reliant on what traders have to offer, or what they can salvage elsewhere.”

“Well, it’s a good job I’m not like most, then,” she smiled, using her knife to pry the corn from its cob. “I prefer fresh over whatever crap comes out of tins and tubs. Always have.”

“Understandable.” After a period of silence, his eyes flicked towards the living room. “If you don’t mind me asking, is that your husband beside you in that photograph?”

Eva followed his gaze to the same picture of her and Nate she’d spent most nights staring at. “Was.” She dropped her eyes to her plate, pushing a carrot around it with the tip of her fork. “He’s no longer with us.”

“My condolences.”

Quickly changing the subject, he nodded towards the folded flag perched on a bookcase. “If I may—why do you have one of those? I read they were given to relatives of soldiers killed in action during the war. There seems to be little value in them now.”

“It was gifted to my husband when one of his men fell in battle,” Eva said, taking a large swig of wine. “They were close. Richard didn’t have any surviving family, so it was passed to Nate. He felt obliged to look after it.”

Danse laid his fork down. “I don’t follow.”

Eva looked up, wishing he’d drop the subject. “What isn’t there to follow?”

“The war was hundreds of years ago. Your husband wouldn’t have been alive then.” His brow furrowed. “You’re having me on again, aren’t you?”

Torn between laughing and groaning, she just stared at the table. “My husband and I were alive before the bombs fell. We signed up for a vault, thinking we’d live out our days down there. Instead, they put us into cryostasis. My husband was killed, and our son was kidnapped. One day, by sheer luck, my pod opened. I was the only survivor.”

Although he hadn’t said anything, she clutched her fork tighter as she lifted her eyes to meet his. “You can think I’m some kind of liar or freak. I don’t care.”

Danse’s expression slightly softened. “I never said any such thing.”

“No, but I can see it on your face,” Eva said, pointing her fork his way before dropping it back to the table as her shoulders slumped. “I’m sick of feeling like I’m different.”

“I… I’m sorry if I made you feel that way—it was never my intention.” He deliberately avoided her gaze, shifting in discomfort. “I can’t imagine what it must be like to have seen the world before the bombs fell.”

“It’s not some amazing spectacle, Paladin.” She stabbed at a carrot and let out a loud sigh. “I’m sorry for snapping. It’s just… still a bit raw. I hate having to retell it to everyone I meet, too.”

“I didn’t mean to pry,” he murmured. “You owe me no explanation, but I appreciate your honesty. And, I’m sorry for what you went through, too.”

“One day, maybe I’ll be able to talk about how life was back then.” She smiled sadly. “It wasn’t the best, but it was a damn sight better than this.”

Finishing their meal in silence, Eva was caught off guard when Danse cleared their plates and began washing up.

He must feel super guilty.

After drying the last of the dishes, he unrolled a sleeping bag in the living room, quickly relocating the thick, cream roll of fabric to the sofa when she pointed to it.

“If you don’t mind, I’m going to turn in early,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ve had trouble sleeping as of late, and would prefer not to be in poor form when I return to the Prydwen tomorrow.”

“It’s alright. I’m shattered myself, so goodness knows how you must feel,” she said, quirking the corner of her lip as she sat sideways in her chair. “I’m sorry for getting a bit narky earlier. It wasn’t personal, I promise.”

His expression softened as he sat on the edge of the sofa. “As I said, you owe me nothing. Thank you again for the dinner, it was most welcome.”

With a nod, she moved to the kitchen island, plucking her book from the surface. “Bathroom’s the first door on the left if you need it. If you find yourself in need of anything else, you can help yourself or ask Codsworth when he’s back.” Moving to the hallway, she glanced over her shoulder at him. “Goodnight, Paladin.”

“Goodnight, Eva.”

Chapter Text

“The threat of nuclear warfare grows closer with each day that passes, Evangelina! You have to stop turning a blind eye to it.”

Eva rolled her eyes and wound the telephone cord around her finger. Glancing up at the calendar, she grimaced when she realised Thanksgiving was only six weeks away.

She let out a weary sigh. “I’m sick of going through this, Dad. You’ve been on a loop for months. It’s like I barely know you anymore. This fallacy is entirely unbecoming of you.”

“Ever since moving to Boston, you’ve lived in some kind of bubble. I need you to wake up.”

His voice was short and snappy, and she briefly considered leaving the phone off the hook. Holding it further from her ear, she listened to him rant.

“You forget, I’ve been in the office, watching the tensions grow. You will be eviscerated when those commie bastards rain down nuclear hell, and I will not stand by idly, allowing my family to become a pawn in the government’s game of complacent idiocracy!”

Her father let out a loud, deep exhale, and she could almost picture him pinching the bridge of his nose.

A heavy thud yanked her from the dream. Blinking awake, Eva turned her head, assuming the book she’d fallen asleep reading had been knocked to the floor. Rolling onto her back, she stared at the ceiling, letting the rest of the memory play out in her mind.

“I want what’s best for our family, Evangelina. When the sky turns orange, you won’t get a second chance. Everything is ready, so I fail to understand why you’re so reluctant to cooperate. You know we’d keep you safe.”

Sticking to her motherly instincts, she’d let rip.

“My son does not need to grow up cowering in the cold confines of some stupid bunker, worrying about what MIGHT happen! He deserves a REAL education, with REAL friends, and REAL experiences.”

Once he’d finished ranting about his plans, she had rested her hip against the side table and picked at the edge with her nail.

“When you gave the keycard to me on our wedding day, I told you then that I had zero interest in joining. My stance still hasn’t changed, and it won’t, no matter how much you persist."

Closing her eyes, she’d said one final thing before hanging up.

“I wish you’d accept my wishes.”

That had been the last time she ever spoke to her father.

Eva swung her legs off the side of the bed, reached into the bedside drawer for a carton of cigarettes and a lighter, and pulled on a long fluffy robe and a pair of worn slippers. Heading out into the hallway, she padded quietly down the hallway, through the pitch-black living room, and slipped out the side door into the night.

At the back of the house, she stopped in the middle of the garden, tilting her head towards the sky. The flick of her lighter cut through the silence as its flame caught the cigarette’s tip. She took a long drag and cracked open the corner of her lips, watching the thin stream of smoke dissipate into the cold air.

A quiet cough startled her. Glancing over her shoulder, she watched Danse cautiously approach, his gaze shifting between her and the stars.

“You look like a traffic cone in that thing,” she joked, a faint smirk tugging at her lips as she raised the cigarette back to them.

Danse huffed in amusement and came to stand beside her. “I heard you leave and thought I’d check you were alright.” Watching her take a drag, he folded his arms. “I’ll admit, I hadn’t pegged you as a smoker.”

“It’s a stress thing, I suppose. I only started recently.” She exhaled through her nose and dropped the cigarette to the floor, watching him grind it into the dirt beneath his boot.

“Many people have coping mechanisms,” he said gently. “I’ve seen soldiers turn to alcohol, cigarettes, drugs, sex, gambling… even violence. You needn’t feel guilty for seeking release from time to time.”

Eva gestured to the patio set and took a seat, slipping her hands into the robe’s pockets. When he sat opposite, she offered him a faint smile.

“I’m sorry for waking you,” she said softly. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“It’s alright, I couldn’t either.” He studied her for a moment before adding, “I’ve been mulling some things over.”

Arching a brow, Eva leaned back in the chair. “Care to share?”

“It’s about you,” he admitted, resting his forearms on the table. “Nothing about you adds up.”

Thoroughly intrigued, a smirk crossed her features. “Indulge me, Paladin.”

“You claim you’re from a vault, yet you shoot like a trained mercenary. I almost forgot something you said en route to ArcJet—about how loss is never easy when it’s those under your command.” His brows drew together. “There’s something in your past that you’re keeping to yourself. You’re not just any old vault dweller, are you?”

Eva lifted her hands in mock surrender. “You got me.”

Almost reaching for another cigarette before thinking better of it, she finally opened up. “Growing up, I was obsessed with science. There were infinite possibilities on what could be achieved, and I longed to be a part of it. I ended up studying biochemistry at university.” A fond smile ghosted her lips. “But I felt my calling was with the army, and so, shortly after graduating, I enlisted.”

Danse tilted his head. “Did your family approve? Statistically, women were less inclined to enlist back then. Or, so records have shown.”

“You’re right, it was largely dominated by men on both sides. Unfortunately, my mother died giving birth to me.” She hesitated, then quietly added, “My father died when I was nine.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

Eva waved her hand dismissively. “It’s alright, you weren’t to know.”

She took in a deep breath and fixed her gaze on a broken section of picket fence. “It took a lot of hard graft, but I ended up serving with the 68Ws as a combat medic.”

“That explains how you treated Knight Rhys so efficiently,” Danse murmured, leaning forwards. “Did you enjoy it?”

Eva nodded, absently flicking the lighter open and closed. “I made a name for myself and got offered a chance to train as a pilot. By the time I qualified in ‘73, vertibirds were still in the testing phase, and I was one of the lucky few to fly them. Those were some of the best years of my life.”

Danse raised his eyebrows in surprise. “They are an excellent piece of machinery.”

Eva studied him, uncertain as to whether his appreciation came from firsthand experience or tales he’d heard from times long gone. Given every form of transport seemed to have been rendered non-operational in the wake of the bombs, she couldn’t fathom how they’d still exist.

But, he confirmed it before she could even ask.

“The Brotherhood maintains a small fleet. Once the Prydwen arrives, you’ll see them regularly. If you don’t mind me asking, did you remain a pilot?”

“Yeah. I flew with the 224th Aviation Regiment, mostly doing evac runs and aid drops out in Alaska. It’s where I met—” She stopped abruptly, snapping the lighter shut. “Sorry, I’d rather not get into that.”

“I understand.” Danse’s voice softened as he laid a hand on the table. “Listen, Eva… most civilians we encounter are disorganised, sloppy, and downright unruly. But you kept your cool and handled everything thrown at you like a true soldier.”

When he smiled, she wondered if she was still dreaming.

“I have a feeling I know what’s coming next, Paladin.”

“And you’d be right.” He tapped the tabletop, drawing her eyes back to his. “There’s no doubt in my mind that you’ve got what it takes to survive out there. You could spend the rest of your life wandering from place to place, trading an extra hand for a meagre reward. Or… you could join the Brotherhood of Steel and make your mark on the world.”

Eva hesitated, chewing the inside of her lip. “May I take the night to think on it? It’s late, and I make stupid decisions when I’m tired.”

“Of course. It’s a big decision, so I understand.”

“Alright then.” Pushing the chair back as she rose, she pocketed the lighter and meandered back to the side door. Inside, she poured herself a glass of water, hearing the creak of the sofa as Danse settled back down. With a final nod, she retreated down the hallway and slipped back into the comfort of her bed.

Staring at the alarm clock, she turned his offer over in her mind. While she had little interest in rejoining the military, the Brotherhood didn’t appear to be the same kind of military she’d once known. No empty wars. No battles for resources in foreign lands. No political puppeteering. Instead, the organisation focused on protecting humanity by preventing dangerous technology from falling into the wrong hands.

And that didn’t sound so bad.

Realistically, it wouldn’t be long before she ran into something that could bend her armour and rifle in half. Access to proper training, weapons, and protection wasn’t something she could afford to turn down.

The longer she thought about it, the more certain she became.

Tomorrow, she would give Danse her answer. A proud member of the Brotherhood of Steel, she would become.

—

Donning her robe again the following morning, Eva shuffled down the hallway into the living room, stretching languidly as she caught sight of Danse staring at the window from his spot on the sofa.

Flopping onto the shorter sofa, she followed his gaze. “Good morning.”

His eyes didn’t leave the dirty pane of glass. “Not quite.”

“What’s wrong?” she asked, brow furrowing as she studied him. “Are Rhys and Haylen okay? Are you okay?”

“They’re fine. I visited them earlier.” He closed his eyes and let out a quiet groan. “The Prydwen won’t be arriving today. Something came up in the Capital Wasteland that demanded the Elder’s attention.”

Pursing her lips, she tucked her legs beneath herself. “Reckon they’ll be heavily delayed?”

“Provided everything goes smoothly, they’ll depart tomorrow.” Though it wasn’t a major delay, the Paladin’s voice lacked the same conviction it had the day before.

“Well, that’s not so bad,” she offered lightly. “Twenty-four hours isn’t that long when you think about it. They’ll be here before you know it.”

“And what if we get to tomorrow and something else crops up?”

Someone’s a negative Nancy this morning.

“If ifs and buts were candy and nuts, we’d all have a merry Christmas,” Eva said, rolling her eyes when he gave her a blank look. “You can sit here and imagine every worst-case scenario, but for all you know, the Prydwen will be here tomorrow afternoon.”

Danse all but huffed, turning his attention back to the window. “You don’t know that it will.”

“And you don’t know that it won’t.”

When he finally faced her again, his expression was nothing short of miserable. “I apologise for my pessimism, it’s just— we’ve—”

“Been through a lot,” she finished softly. “I know. But you’ll be home soon, and right now, you’re safe. You’ve all got a place to rest your heads again tonight, so you can quit worrying.”

“Are you sure?” Danse pursed his lips. “We wouldn’t want to impose, and are more than happy to return to the police station.”

“What was it a certain Paladin said to me yesterday?” Eva tapped her chin, pretending to look like she was racking her brain. “Ah, yes. ‘I wouldn’t have asked if I weren’t.’”

Though he shook his head, she caught the faintest smile tugging at his lips as he sank back into the sofa. In that moment, it appeared as if a tremendous weight had lifted from his shoulders.

“Codsworth?” she called, twisting to offer her Mister Handy a warm smile. “Would you mind making some breakfast for us both? Those mirelurk eggs need using up.”

Pulling a spatula from the counter, the robot gave it a quick wave. “Of course, Mum! Coming right up.”

Eva wandered into the kitchen after a few minutes, watching Codsworth crack the eggs as she set a pot of coffee on to brew. When she returned to the living room, she placed two steaming mugs on the coffee table.

“I might have something to pull you out of this slump,” she said, reclaiming her spot on the sofa as he lifted one of the mugs into his hands. “I had a long think last night—about our talk, about my goals, about everything. I accept your offer.”

Danse’s eyes snapped to hers, his grip tightening around the mug. “Are you certain?”

With a soft hum, she took her own mug in hand. “When I first left the vault, I could barely think straight. I kept wanting to go back down there. To end it all and be reunited with Nate. I didn’t know what I was bothering to live for.”

She sighed, rubbing a hand across her face. “I’m still trying to adapt to this new way of living. There’s no routine anymore. No nine-to-fives. No calendars jam-packed with events. In a way, I miss the sense of purpose and routine the military gave me. Perhaps being a part of the Brotherhood will help with that.”

“You’re correct in that assumption,” Danse said with a small nod. He took a sip of coffee and brushed his thumb across his lip. “The Brotherhood gave me purpose when I had nothing. I’m certain that, with time, you’ll feel yours again.”

“As I’m sure you understand, I never got closure on what happened to our son—Shaun.” She scratched the back of her neck. “That’s why I was destined for the city yesterday. I was hoping to seek out a detective to make a start on tracking him down. As long as I can focus on my personal objectives, I’d be happy to proceed with enlistment.”

“I don’t foresee that being an issue,” he assured her. “You will be assigned missions under my command, which will require your full attention, but the Elder is a fair man. If you explain your situation, he’ll likely grant you time away when you require it.”

“So,” Eva said, running her thumb around the rim of the cup. “Where do I sign?”

Danse reached for the khaki backpack he’d kept beside the sofa and rummaged through it for a while. Eventually, he placed a piece of paper onto the table, clicked a pen, and ticked a few boxes.

“If you don’t mind, I’ll need to record some basic details. It’s not standard for me to do this in the field, but once you’re aboard the Prydwen, you’ll complete a full registration and induction programme.”

“Sure.” Eva nodded, gesturing to the paper. “Fire away.”

Satisfied with her compliance, he scrawled away at the paper. “Your full name and date of birth?”

“Evangelina Ward. Sixteenth of May, 2049.”

His lips moved silently as he filled in the boxes. “That’d make you twenty-eight. Correct?”

Eva laughed brightly. “Sure does. If you’d said two hundred and thirty-eight, I’d have slapped you. Though I do look damn good, even in my old age.”

Ignoring her remark, he tapped a pen against the page. “Height, weight, eye colour, and hair colour.”

“Five-foot-five, and fuck knows what my weight is, given I spent a whole day raiding through the neighbours’ cupboards and devouring every sweet snack in sight. As for the rest, you have eyes.”

“I’ll note the weight down as pending,” he murmured, writing as he spoke. “I will need your verbal confirmation on the rest, given that alterations can be made.”

Eva rolled her eyes. “Green eyes, black hair. All natural.”

“And last but not least, do you know your blood type?”

“I’m actually O negative,” she said proudly. “But I’d rather not become the Brotherhood’s walking blood bank—I had enough of that in the army.”

“I don’t have an understanding of the various types, but Knight-Captain Cade will conduct a full medical assessment,” he said, clicking off the pen.

“Cool.” She took another sip before setting the mug down. “Do you need any identification documents? Like a photo card or something?”

“That won’t be necessary,” he replied with an understanding look. “Those ceased production long before the Brotherhood was founded. You’ll be issued holotags with your identification details on in due course, but aside from that, you’re all set.”

“Thank you, Paladin.”

“For what it’s worth,” he said gently, “I’m glad you accepted. I’ve granted you the rank of Initiate. It’s just a training rank, given I’m not permitted to grant ranks higher than that.” With an odd salute, he finished with a proud, “Welcome to the Brotherhood of Steel, Initiate.”

Though every part of her wanted to pull him into a hug, she held off. He’d probably freak out or reprimand her. Now that she was under his command, she’d have to find a new target for her witty remarks.

Codsworth floated over, handing them each a plate and cutlery before disappearing down the hall. Getting comfortable, she arched a brow as she caught Danse staring at the dish. Then, he muttered a single word.

“Bread.”

“An astute observation, Paladin!” she said, clapping once. “Perhaps you’re not as blind as I thought.”

On second thought, he really does make for the perfect target.

He frowned at her, unamused by her jab. “It’s a rare sight, that’s all. Our field rations are never fresh, so it is a refreshing change.”

“You’re really selling the Brotherhood to me,” she teased, half-covering her mouth with a hand as she chewed the egg. “We got hold of some from a caravan that was passing through. Once we have more farms up and running, we’ll start producing even more goods.”

“You keep saying 'we,'” Danse noted, spearing a lump of egg with the tip of his fork. “And that Preston called you ‘General.’ I’d appreciate an explanation.”

With an awkward smile, she filled him in on how she’d met the Minutemen and why they’d ended up offering her the position.

Listening intently, he gave her a look of admiration. “For someone who thought they’d lost their purpose, you’ve certainly made a name for yourself already. You should be proud.”

“Thanks,” she replied with a shrug, downplaying his praise. Noting how quickly he’d polished off his plate, she asked, “Do you want Codsworth to make you more? We’re well stocked, so feel free to enjoy the luxuries while you can.”

“That won’t be necessary, but thank you for the offer.”

Doubt lingered at the back of her mind. With how his eyes lingered on her plate, she was almost convinced they’d burn a hole through the ceramic. Keeping a smirk at bay, she moved to sit beside him and scraped the remainder of her toast and eggs onto his plate.

“I don’t eat much,” she said simply. “And before you open your mouth, it’s not up for debate.”

He smiled and dug in without further protest. Watching him for a moment, she tried to gather enough courage to ask him something. Quietly, she spoke his name.

He glanced up. “Yes?”

“Given I helped you yesterday, and you’ve got a free day today… would you mind helping me with something?” She hesitated under his look of curiosity. “I want to retrieve my identification documents from the vault, and my family’s, too, now that you reminded me of them. They’re bound to be down there somewhere, but I… I don’t want to go in alone. The vault’s only a few minutes’ walk away from here.”

Danse didn’t hesitate as he quickly wolfed down the remaining bread.

“Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be right behind you.”

Chapter Text

Red.
Red.
Red.

Green.

Ninety seconds. That was all the time she had before the elevator descended back into the depths of hell itself.

As the pad’s systems activated, the wasteland began to change. Rust flaked from nearby trailers, revealing white paint and polished chrome that gleamed beneath the soft morning sun. Trees stood tall, their branches adorned with thick, luscious leaves. Grass blanketed the hills, alive with the colour of life itself.

It was beautiful. Perfect, even.

But something was wrong.

There was no sound. No wind. No birds. No voices. Only silence.

Then she saw it.

A dark speck high above, cutting through the cloudless sky like a meteor. It vanished as it met the earth, leaving no trace of its existence.

Until the light came.

A flash brighter than a thousand suns pierced through her eyelids, searing flecks of white into her retinas. The horizon ignited as a bloom of molten orange hellfire devoured the sky.

The ground shook beneath her feet. A wall of force rolled across the land, tearing through everything in its path. Trees bent and snapped, stripped bare in an instant. Grass browned and curled from the intense heat.

The shockwave slammed into her, flaying her skin with dust and debris. A thunderous boom rattled the air, threatening to deafen her.

“Nate!”

Her voice was swallowed by the chaos as she gripped his arms, shaking him in a desperate bid to pull him from whatever trance he was in.

But he didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Didn’t even blink.

“We’re going to die!”

Her throat burned red raw as she began screaming. Suddenly, her husband began to melt.

His skin sagged, sliding down his face like warm wax down a candle. Bloodied muscle and tissue blistered and bubbled, peeling back to expose chunks of bone. His eyes rolled back in their sockets as his jaw hung open in a scream that never came.

A sharp, commanding voice hit her like a second blast.

“Eva!”

Everything was too loud and too quiet all at once.

Danse was staring back at her, standing exactly where Nate had been. Her nails were buried deep in the smooth, orange fabric of his flight suit, hands trembling as she looked up at him.

With a strangled sound, she yanked her hands away. Stumbling past him on shaky legs, she bent over a bramble bush and vomited violently until she was left dry-heaving.

When she finally mustered enough strength to stand upright, her gaze drifted to the Paladin. Standing beside the shell of his power armour, the man was looking out over the neighbourhood, squinting against the sun.

After clearing her throat and spitting the foul remnants from her mouth, she stepped to his side, meeting his concerned expression with an anxious side-eye.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, turning her gaze to the bustling community in the near distance. “I… don’t know what came over me.”

“Trauma will do that,” he said softly, turning to face her. “And don’t apologise for it. While I understand you may not want to divulge your situation yet, Knight-Captain Cade specialises in the field and may be able to alleviate or prevent these episodes.”

Eva acknowledged his hidden plea with a small nod. Glancing over her shoulder at the cover that had sealed off the elevator shaft while she’d greeted her breakfast for a second time, she let out a shaky sigh.

“You don’t have to go back down there, Eva.”

Meeting his gaze, she shook her head. “No, I want to—I just had a… blip, that’s all. We’ll need to use the control panel again to bring the elevator back up, and then we can try again.”

As Danse handled the dials and switches, Eva paced in a circle, kicking pebbles along the asphalt. Looking up at the sky, she wondered if her life would be forever plagued by nightmares and flashbacks.

To hell with that. I just want a good night’s sleep.

When the pad finally slotted back into place at the surface, Danse emerged from a trailer with a genuine, “Whenever you’re ready—no rush. I would prefer to bring my power armour, however.”

“That thing’s ancient,” she argued, gesturing to the pad. “It looks like it’ll malfunction at any moment, and I’m not willing to risk overloading it.”

Danse frowned. “I am certain it wouldn’t pose a risk, considering it was built for heavy-duty operations.”

“I’m sorry, but it’s a no-can-do,” she said with a shrug. “I’m sure you’re lovely, but I’d rather not be trapped down there with you until we die. If you’d rather wait up here, you can.”

“Negative. It would be unwise to send you down alone, not knowing who or what could be down there.”

“Fine.” Eva drew in a deep breath and stepped onto the elevator pad with a semi-confident, “Let’s do this.”

Quickly hitting the activation button, Danse jogged to her side, waiting in anticipation as the lights changed once more. This time, she counted down from ninety, keeping her eyes squeezed shut and fighting the urge to grab his arm when the elevator began to judder.

Her eyes didn’t reopen until the sound of the metal gate scraped against her eardrums. When Danse went to move, she threw out an arm to stop him.

“I doubt anyone’s down here, so I’m not too concerned,” she said. “If you could wait in the lobby, I’d appreciate it. As much as this might itch at your curious side, I’d rather you didn’t treat it like a tourist’s day out. If I run into anything, I’ll shout.”

“I understand.” He gripped his laser rifle tightly. “Tell me where to wait, and I’ll remain there until you’re ready to leave.”

With a nervous smile, she led him across the catwalk, doing her best to ignore every instinct to flee.

“I’m sorry if this wasn’t what you wanted to see this morning,” she murmured, pushing through the lobby’s barriers. “It’s not pretty, I know.”

Pointing at a long black bench against the far wall, she swept her eyes across the skeletons slumped over barricades and scattered across the floor. Spent casings and dark grey stains on the walls painted a clear picture of the massacre that had once taken place.

Once Danse had settled down, silently staring up at the deceptive sign that had once greeted her family, she went off on her mission.

Navigating the labyrinth of hallways, she cleared room after room in search of the documents Nate had reluctantly turned in. When she reached the security room empty-handed, she tipped her head back and groaned. Her backpack bulged with loot, but none of it was what she’d truly wanted.

And even in death, Nate was calling her name from his steel tomb, beckoning her to go into the one area she’d avoided.

Doubling back, she stalked through the hallways until she reached the overseer’s office again. If anyone kept records, it would’ve surely been Vault-Tec’s teacher’s pet.

Searching high and low, she found a key taped beneath a horseshoe-shaped desk.

Bingo.

Unlocking a dented filing cabinet, she rifled through folders until she found the one that mattered most. Running her hand over the royal-blue cover, she read the crooked label.

SURNAME(S): Ward
ADMITTED: 10/23/2077
DESIGNATION: Subjects 12, 13 & 14

Sliding the folder into her pack, she dropped onto a swivel chair and pulled herself closer to the desk. A terminal flickered to life as her fingers tapped at the keys, its screen bathing her face in a strong, green glow.

Most of the entries were mundane or of little interest. Rotas, inventories and daily reports clogged up most of the system, boring her before she’d even read them.

But then, deep inside a mailbox, her eyes caught onto a folder labelled 'PRIORITY SENDERS / RECIPIENTS'.

Opening the folder, her heart leapt into her throat as her eyes stopped on the three words she’d least expected to see:

Mr. Thomas Eckhart

Reading the words over and over, her breath caught as her stomach doubled over.

No. It couldn’t be. Dozens of people bore the name, perhaps even hundreds. It had to be a coincidence, and nothing more.

But when she opened the first inbound message, her denial shattered.

[October 23, 2077]
Sender: T. Eckhart
Recipient: Overseer J. White

Requesting confirmation of the reception of Evangelina Ward, Nathaniel Ward, and Shaun Ward. Payment complete, on hold pending confirmation of admittance and successful conduct of prior approved arrangements.

The Overseer’s reply came within the hour, confirming their arrival and detainment.

A large majority of the messages had corrupted over time or been deleted, but another made her freeze.

[April 21, 2078]
Sender: T. Eckhart
Recipient: Overseer J. White

Further to a meeting with the board of directors, the occupants are to be held as transport remains nonviable. Payment has been wired to cover costs associated with this delay. More information to follow.

The final message she read had been received years after the bombs had fallen.

[December 16, 2085]
Sender: President T. Eckhart
Recipient: Overseer J. White

The latest report has been received, and I am satisfied with their current statuses. The expected release date, as agreed with the chairman, is June 2086. The date will be finalised in due course. Will check in next week. Ensure updated reports are sent in the interim.

Her blood ran cold as everything leading up to the bombs finally clicked into place.

Her own father had played her like a fiddle.

At some point, he must have realised she’d never go to the bunker, no matter how hard he pushed the idea. So instead, he used her defiant protests to get what he wanted. With his silver tongue, status, and wealth, he’d made sure Vault-Tec went knocking on her door with the perfect offer.

Looking back, every word that the salesman had said five days before the bombs fell echoed in her mind. Each one had been too tailored, and almost too good to be true.

“The residents of Vault 111 have been carefully hand-picked, with your family chosen for services to our great nation. The state-of-the-art facility will uphold the best of American living, should the unthinkable happen. Private accommodation, communal spaces, social events, private healthcare, and long-term education programmes are just a slice of the many benefits on offer.”

Every selling point had mirrored her complaints about the bunker: isolation, a lack of community, the absence of education. But Vault-Tec had promised the exact opposite, and she’d walked right into the trap.

While she’d been playing checkers, he’d been playing chess. Anticipating her every move, he’d countered each one with meticulous planning.

And when she’d signed those papers, he’d silently declared checkmate.

As Secretary of the Department of Agriculture and with allies in all corners, he’d had no shortage of strings he could pull.

With his ardent opposition to communism and desire to speak his mind, a so-called ‘shadow government’ had sought him out, eventually hailing him as one of their founding figures. Playing into his extreme patriotism, they sucked him in, whispering no end of poison into his ear.

The government? Useless.
America? Doomed.

He’d parroted their every word at any given chance. To them, their only salvation was to wait underground for the inevitable to happen amidst a ‘failing government’. Their new government would supposedly rise from the ashes, correcting the failures of the old world as their underground group, consisting of ‘America’s greatest’, rebirthed the nation.

Even now, their name—the one he’d worshipped for months—sickened her.

The Enclave.

He’d let slip to her on more than one occasion about how he’d funnelled money from the department to the Enclave as a ‘donation’, carefully covering his tracks by altering the books. The money went everywhere—from construction of their super-bunker beneath the Whitespring Resort in West Virginia, to brokering deals in the shadows with America’s largest corporations.

With Vault-Tec in their back pocket, he’d worked with them on the perfect ploy to ensure she and her family would survive the bombs he’d been so paranoid about.

But paranoia and conspiracies aside, her father had been a good man. Raising her alone, he’d supported her every decision and given her a leg up whenever she needed it. But even if his decisions had come from a place of love, he’d still gone against his daughter’s will.

Yes, she had survived the bombs, but at what cost? What kind of life was the one she was being forced to lead?

If the Enclave had never approached him, she would’ve met her fate as it was meant to be.

And yet… so many things didn’t add up. The messages had run parallel to the plan he’d recited to her many times, and yet, none of it had come to fruition.

“Once the conditions stabilise, we’ll authorise the opening of the hangar, and then you can fly everyone back to meet us in Appalachia.”

Release had been delayed many times, but he’d almost set a date in stone. The overseer had sent multiple follow-up messages, but no responses ever came. All communications between them had ended with that final message.

There were far too many variables to think of, and in her current state, she was unwilling to go down any wormholes.

Rage simmered in the pit of her stomach. As her last words to her father circled inside her mind, she realised he’d already gone against them with finality long before she’d even spoken them.

And if words on a screen could smile, those would have given the most sinister, cunning, taunting grin.

Eventually, something inside her snapped.

“FUCK!”

The word tore from her throat, bouncing off the walls of the sparse office. Slamming her fists onto the desk, the wood caved inwards, splintering beneath the impact. With a guttural shout, she pushed the middle section over, sending papers and pens flying across the room.

Her breath came in ragged gasps as her eyes locked onto a baseball bat leaning against a locker.

The first swing cracked the screen. The second shattered it. The third dented the casing. By the eighth, the terminal was little more than a smoking, sparking mess.

“Initiate!”

Danse burst through the doorway, voice sharp as he immediately turned his attention to her destruction.

Before he could speak, she tossed the bat aside and pushed past him with a snappy, “We’re leaving.”

Chest heaving and heartbeat pounding in her ears, she stormed towards the elevator. Torn between crying and kicking the metal grating until it bent beneath her boots, she moved back and forth as Danse observed silently from the edge of the pad.

Pacing furiously as the elevator juddered to life, the folder in her pack felt heavier with each step. Her photo card might have borne her married name, but the papers held her true one.

Once upon a time, she’d been proud of her father. With all of his accomplishments amidst a budding legacy, she’d been proud to wear the family name.

Now, all it symbolised for her was betrayal, deception, heartache, and trauma.

Those papers would never see the light of day.

Never again would the world know of an Evangelina Eckhart.

Chapter Text

Even in the comfort of her home, with Codsworth fussing nearby, Eva’s mind refused to settle. She paced behind the sofa, chewing her nail as emotions crashed over her in waves.

Knowingly leading your daughter and her family into indefinite containment under dangerous experimental conditions wasn’t love. It was control born from paranoia and cloaked in fatherly concern.

Leaning back against the hallway wall, she wanted to blame someone.

But who?

The Enclave, for planting their poisoned roots? Or her father, for feasting on their apples without a second thought?

Perhaps the blame lay closer to home. If she had accepted the bunker offer instead of living in blissful, ignorant denial, none of it would have happened.

Tipping her head back with a deep sigh, she knew she couldn’t let it consume her. Living with skeletons in her closet that haunted her every night was bad enough. Adding bitterness or self-loathing to the mix would be the final nail in the coffin for her fragile mind.

And, what had happened had happened. There were no time machines and no reset buttons. No amount of rage or regret would ever undo it.

But one thing she could do was ensure she never repeated her mistakes, nor her father’s. The legacy she wanted to leave behind would be hers, and hers alone.

After leaving the vault, she had torn back down the hill, parting ways with Danse with little more than a grunt as he went to visit his squad. With him gone, she was free to ensure the Evangelina of 2077 was locked away for good.

Pushing off the wall, she crouched in front of the bookcase by the front door, running her fingers along the backboard of the bottom shelf. When they got caught in a deep groove, she pushed the board upwards, revealing a hidden safe. Winding the dial, she whispered, “Eleven, fourteen, twenty.” On the final click, the door sprang open, revealing the relics of a better time.

A black plastic card resting on a stack of photographs caught her eye. She ran her thumb over the embossed white ‘E’ encircled by small stars, fighting an overwhelming urge to snap in two. Instead, she tossed it to the back of the safe. Some strange, morbid part of her wanted to visit the bunker, just to see what could have been.

Lifting the first photograph, she was instantly taken back to the side room of Concord Church. Family fussed around her, neatening a bouquet whilst she stared at a nearby calendar.

July 26, 2076

Standing before her, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face, was her father. His signature, sharp, woody cologne filled the air, suffocating her senses. Taking a step back to admire her, he looked overcome with emotion.

“Your mother would be so proud of you, Evangelina,” he murmured, straightening his tie. “Our little girl, all grown up.”

Nate’s parents lingered in the doorway. Caroline dabbed her eyes with a scrunched ball of tissue while her husband rubbed her back. When David remarked that their son was a lucky man, Eva let out a hearty chuckle.

“Give him a few weeks, and he’ll be asking if that spare room of yours is still available.”

But when she locked eyes with the man she loved down the aisle, she realised he’d never looked happier.

After exchanging vows and signing papers, they moved on to the village hall, listening to heartfelt speeches from family and friends. That evening, they slow-danced to The Danleers under soft lighting, mouthing the lyrics to one another:

You’re my world,
You’re the song I sing.
You’re my guiding light,
You’re everything.

Closing the cab door on the last of their merry guests, the newlyweds climbed the fire escape of an adjacent building, giggling against the hush of the night. Perched on the edge of a rooftop, partially illuminated by a nearby motion light, they picked at leftovers from a paper plate, watching the stars twinkle high above them.

“You looked ever so beautiful, Mum.”

Codsworth’s gentle words pulled her back to the present. Still crouched by the bookcase, she glanced up, clutching the photo tightly in a trembling hand.

“Dad spent a ridiculous amount on that dress, but I felt on top of the world in it,” she murmured, quickly placing the photo back as emotion welled deep down.

Once the folder was tucked away inside the safe, she sealed it back up, hung her pack on a peg, and slipped back out into the fresh morning air. The settlement was relatively quiet, save for a small group of newcomers fixing a streetlamp. Swiping a wicker basket off a bench, she knelt by a row of vines, picking off the ripest tatos, enjoying the peace. The feeling was short-lived when a shadow fell over her.

“You’re farming?”

She squinted up at Danse, shielding one eye from the sunlight. “Another fine observation—you’re on a streak.”

Though he looked as though he wanted to be anywhere but there, he stayed with her, carrying two baskets as she loaded them up with mutfruit and carrots. Once they’d dropped the harvest off with Codsworth, Eva led him back up the road.

Turning her head to the Paladin, she arched a brow. “Have you ever milked a Brahmin before?”

“No. Brotherhood soldiers are not in the habit of rearing animals in their downtime.”

“Well,” she said, nudging open the door of a wooden barn with the toe of her boot, “you’re about to become an exception.”

Under Marcy’s watchful eye and strict guidance, the pair soon found a rhythm, filling pails as though they’d done it for years. Once they’d trudged to the makeshift market shack under the harsh afternoon sun, they traded the produce in for a few caps and a box of Dandy Boy Apples.

“It’s strange,” Danse admitted as they walked back towards her house. “I’m usually the one giving lessons. It was a refreshing change to be on the receiving end for once.”

Eva grinned, nudging him lightly with an elbow. “We’ll make a farmer of you yet.”

At her front door, she kicked off her boots and turned the key. When Danse moved to follow her inside, she pivoted and held up a hand. “Uh-uh. You are not coming in here with those boots on. I’m not hav—”

“Mud on your floors,” he finished, kneeling to unlace them as the slightest tinge of pink stained his cheeks. “I know.”

“Actually—” Eva crossed her arms, glancing at her Pip-Boy. “Why don’t you go fetch the others? They’re probably bored out of their minds, and I have a perfectly good pack of cards and a bottle that might cure it.”

“Roger that.”

A few minutes later, the trio arrived. Haylen immediately pulled Eva into an excited embrace. “Our newest recruit!” the Scribe squeaked, smiling from ear to ear. “Paladin Danse told us all about the offer. You’re going to make a great addition to the team.” Stepping back, placing a fist over her heart with a proud, “Ad Victoriam, sister.”

Rhys groaned loudly as he flopped down onto the sofa. “She doesn’t even know what that means.”

Before Eva could fire back with a remark about how he could sit in the corner for a time-out, Danse cut in. “Ad Victoriam means ‘to victory’. Our rallying cry is more powerful than any weapon you could ever carry—remember that.”

I’m not sure that screaming Latin at my enemies will win me any fights, but whatever floats your boat.

Once they’d discussed the plans for the upcoming morning, they settled down to enjoy some bonding time. As cards shuffled and glasses clinked against the coffee table, the afternoon quickly melted away. Rhys kept a wary eye on Codsworth, as though expecting him to morph into a Mister Gutsy at any moment, while Haylen regaled them with stories of their Commonwealth adventures.

When the duo finally departed as the evening rolled in, Eva closed the door and turned to Danse.

“Hungry?”

“Marginally,” he replied, glancing towards the kitchen. “Do you need any assistance?”

“I’ve got it, but thank you.” She smiled and began pulling pots and pans from the kitchen cupboards. “Hopefully tonight’s dish will be better than merely ‘sufficient’.”

“I’m certain it won’t disappoint,” he said. “And I regret not praising your last meal enough—it was among the best I’ve had in... well, years.”

As she coated two rad chicken breasts in mirelurk egg and breadcrumbs, she made a decision. “These birds are native to a little island not too far from here. I’m going to have some livestock brought over for the settlements.”

“It would be beneficial, I’m certain,” Danse said, watching her mash tatos as Codsworth fried the meat. “I’ve never tried that kind of meat before. Have you?”

“No, but there’s a first time for everything.” She stirred the contents of the pot, giving it a long sniff. “Dinner smells promising.”

When the sauce reached the right consistency, she poured it over the sizzling chicken in a dish.

“What’s that?” Danse asked, nodding towards the yellow chunks she scattered over the top.

“Brahmin cheese,” she replied, sliding the dish into the oven. “Allegedly, it’s hard to come across because of how quickly it spoils. Absolutely stinks, though—the trader was probably relieved I took it.”

As she plated the vegetables, Danse set the table, copying her layout from the evening prior. Once seated, he took a sip of wine, admiring the meal. “It looks good. Thank you.” After a moment of looking to the door, he added, “I can’t help but feel as though I am excluding the others, however.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Eva said with a shake of her head, lifting the glass. “A young lady named Amelia showed up recently and took charge of the communal cooking. She’s wonderful at it. Rhys and Haylen will be in good hands.”

Giving her a satisfied nod, he scooped some of the sauce onto a fork. “Did you enjoy cooking before everything happened? You seem resourceful and know how to make things work together.”

“When I retired from the military, I wanted to learn,” she said. “Partly for my family, but also to apologise to my taste buds for putting them through military ‘food’.”

“Don’t have high expectations for fine dining aboard the Prydwen,” Danse said, lifting his eyes from the plate. “Food is for fuel up there, not pleasure.”

“Well, don’t be expecting a three-course dinner every time you swing by here,” she teased, spearing a carrot. “A man of your size would eat me out of house and home.”

“I am grateful for whatever hospitality I receive, Initiate.”

“Eva,” she corrected, pursing her lips. “These four walls are an exclusion zone for verbalising ranks.”

“Understood.”

Feeling triumphant at being able to set boundaries with ease, she leaned back in her chair, observing him over the rim of her glass. “Am I expected to accompany you to this ‘Prydwen’ of yours tomorrow?”

“Yes.” Danse paused, wiping the corner of his mouth with a thumb. “Elder Maxson has specifically requested your presence for an official introduction and initiation. You are permitted to leave after it has been completed, should you have other commitments.”

“Oh, that’s fine.” She waved a hand dismissively. “But once I’ve settled in, I may need to take a short period of leave. I still need to… pick up where I left off before we met.”

“Understood.” After a pause, he added, “Would you like assistance? Provided I have not been assigned elsewhere, I can accompany you to the city.”

“I… I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.” She rubbed her neck, uncertain of how much she wanted to let outsiders into her personal missions. “I’m just praying this detective can shed some light. Right now, I feel like I’m at the starting line of a race, but my feet are tied together.”

Danse studied her momentarily. “If you never take the first step, you’ll remain there.”

That, she couldn’t argue with. Weeks ago, she’d have happily lived like a vampire—hiding behind curtained windows, venturing out only when the cloak of night hid her from the world. But now, she found herself ready to face the sunlight, to welcome its potential.

After dinner, Codsworth cleared the plates. Eva stretched and headed for the bathroom, turning the shower on and holding her hand beneath the spray until she felt the first signs of warmth. Gathering a few towels from the utility room opposite, she peeked around the corner of the hallway.

“Would you like a shower? There’s enough hot water for both of us.”

Danse moved his attention away from the back window to her with a confused, “Hot water?”

“Yes, hot water. It’s not an alien concept,” she teased. When he continued to look confused, her smile dropped. “Please tell me you’ve felt hot water before.”

“I have, but it’s uncommon,” he admitted. “Even the Prydwen, as advanced as it is, only provides mildly warm water—and that’s intermittent at the best of times.”

Eva tutted. “Crap food and cold showers? You’re really selling this whole thing to me,” Eva laughed, shifting the towels in her arms. “Anyway, it’ll run out if we keep talking. Be back soon.”

Back inside the bathroom, she stripped her clothes off, pulled back the glass screen, and stepped into the warm embrace of the steamy shower. Once finished, she towelled off and changed into one of Nate’s oversized shirts and pyjama bottoms.

“Shower’s all yours,” she said, collapsing onto the sofa and kicking her feet up. “Help yourself to whatever’s in there.”

Once he’d left the room, she picked her book up off the coffee table and turned to the page she’d dog-eared. Lost in the romantic text beneath the warm, yellow lighting of a nearby lamp, she hadn’t noticed the Paladin return until his shadow covered her.

“Nice shower?”

“Yes,” he exhaled, rubbing the towel across his hair. “We hadn’t had access to such facilities in the field, so it was greatly welcomed. I must admit, I never would’ve thought this settlement would have functioning water and heating systems.”

“I’m not sure whether to be flattered or offended,” she said, smiling over the top of her book. “They weren’t in bad condition, much to our surprise. It took a handyman a week of tinkering day and night, but it was well worth it. I couldn’t live without a warm shower, but perhaps that’s my spoiled pre-war side speaking.”

Danse huffed in amusement as he lay on the bedroll spread across the other sofa. Though her attention had returned to the book, she couldn’t focus amidst the constant pluck, pluck of his fidgeting. Snapping the book shut, she said, “Radio them.”

His eyes lifted from his lap. “Who?”

“I don’t know. The Elder? The crew? You’re worried they won’t show tomorrow, and don’t bother denying it because it’s written all over your face.”

“Elder Maxson is a man of his word,” Danse said firmly. “If they are delayed a second time, it’ll be for a valid reason. I don’t feel the need to disturb them.”

“Then stop fidgeting before you have no seams left in those trousers.” Eva’s eyes flicked back to the page. “Guest or not, you’re distracting me.”

“My apologies.”

She smirked faintly, turning the page. “Do you read much? You’re welcome to have a look through whatever I own.”

“I don’t read often,” he admitted. His gaze lingered on the red cover in her hands. “I tend to stay away from fiction when I do. What’s your book about?”

“A girl gets hidden away from the world by her father. He wants her to choose from a list of suitors to marry, but she hates all of them. Her heart sat with their Lord neighbour.”

Danse turned onto his side, resting his head on his hand. “Did families actually force marriages upon their children?”

“Yep.” Eva nodded, pausing for a moment. “It wasn’t common, though. Families of specific social statuses or religious beliefs tended to partake in such traditions, mainly.”

“I see.”

“Anyway,” Eva continued. “The Lord loved her, too. She grew more comfortable with exploring, and eventually found out her father had lied about her mother being dead. She and her mother work together to convince the rest of the family that the marriage can work.”

Danse’s brows knit together as he sat in deep thought. “Needing permission to love someone sounds absurd. A contractual marriage is a recipe for disaster. You can’t force love, regardless of surrounding factors.”

Eva shrugged. “That’s how it was, unfortunately. Planned marriages prevented social embarrassment and strengthened alliances. The children were pawns in their families’ power moves.”

Eva could tell a question was on the tip of Danse’s tongue, judging by how he was looking at her.

“My marriage wasn’t like that, if that’s what you’re wondering,” she said, laying the book on the coffee table. “Nate and I were head over heels, and if anyone in my family had tried to find me a suitor, I’d have buried them in the garden.”

Danse chuckled. “Somehow, I don’t doubt that.”

Glancing at the clock, she moved from the sofa and picked up the damp towel from the floor. “I’m going to call it a night. I don’t fancy meeting this Elder of yours with bags beneath my eyes.”

“Understood,” Danse replied, rolling onto his back with his hands behind his head. “Goodnight, Eva.”

“Goodnight, Danse.”

Chapter Text

Stay calm. Stay calm. Stay calm.

Eva bounced lightly on her feet at the corner of the street, staring up at the cloudy sky as she sucked in slow, grounding breaths. Her gaze flicked to Danse, who stood a few feet away, deep in discussion with the rest of the team.

Preston shifted at her side. “Are you nervous?”

She rocked back on her heels, forcing a smile. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not afraid of soldiers or figures of authority. It’s just…” Her voice dropped to something slightly above a whisper. “What if they discredit my abilities because they think I’m some pre-war relic that doesn’t belong anymore?”

“All you can do is meet them head-on, and show them what you’re capable of,” Preston said gently. “The Paladin clearly sees something in you. Don’t assume the others won’t.”

Eva’s gaze lingered on the steel plating of Danse’s power armour. “Most of his squad were killed when they reached the Commonwealth,” she murmured. “Maybe he just needed another gun at his side. Maybe he felt like an offer was fair, but hoped I’d decline, and is now regretting it.”

But his words came back to her from their quiet talk in her garden. The sincerity in his eyes and voice had been indisputable.

“There’s no doubt in my mind that you’ve got what it takes to survive out there. Join the Brotherhood of Steel and make your mark on the world.”

Preston folded his arms and frowned. “Or maybe you’re overthinking. If you’re this unsure, why not ask him?”

“Absolutely not,” Eva said, firmly shaking her head. “I’m not about to accuse one of their high-ranking officers of lying.”

“Because deep down, you already know what his answer would be,” Preston said, grinning with satisfaction. “Go up there, and give them your all. I guarantee you’ll be back here in a day or two, kitted out with a dozen tales to tell.”

Eva pulled him into a tight hug. “Thank you, Garv,” she mumbled into his shoulder. “For always believing in me.”

“It’s no problem at all, General.” He gave her a firm pat on the back before stepping away.

Danse approached slowly, metal gleaming against the morning light. Eva straightened instinctively, plastering on a fake confident smile.

“Keep smiling like that and I’ll have to fetch a camera,” she teased. “Any update?”

“The estimated arrival to our location is seven minutes,” Danse replied, moving his gaze skyward. “Elder Maxson will dispatch a vertibird to transport us up to the Prydwen. There is insufficient landing space here, so I provided them with coordinates for the Red Rocket across the river.”

“Are we heading there now?”

“Affirmative.” He placed the transmitter he’d been clutching tightly inside the chest compartment of his armour. “I’d prefer we arrive ahead of schedule, to prevent any unnecessary delays.”

Eva turned back to Preston, placing a hand on his arm. “I’ll try not to be gone long. If it’s not too much to ask, could you please keep Codsworth company? I can tell he gets lonely.”

“Don’t worry, Codsworth will be in good hands.” Preston smiled, then nodded to Danse. “It was good to meet you, Paladin. Safe travels.”

Eva lingered for a moment, then jogged after Danse and the others as they made their way to the bridge. With each step, her heart pounded faster as the reality began to sink in.

As the team waited on the road outside the former gas station, discussing what they’d missed most, Eva paced back and forth behind them. Only when Haylen gasped did Eva look up, eyes going wide as a hulking, black airship slowly eclipsed the sun.

Danse stared up at it, helmet tucked under his arm as his guard finally dropped. “I’ve never been so relieved to see home.”

Eva stepped beside him, ignoring Rhys’s mumbled complaints about how she was encroaching on their moment. Tapping the back of her hand against his metal-clad arm, she asked, “Even if it means going back to cold showers?”

He met her gaze as a small, genuine smile broke through his stoicism. “Even then.”

As the zeppelin drew nearer, Danse pulled out a tube, snapped off the cap, and tossed it down the road. Bold, red smoke drifted into the air in a steady stream, signalling their location. The team watched as a vertibird detached from the underside of the Prydwen and began heading their way.

When it landed nearby, billowing up a cloud of dust and dirt, Eva paced again as Rhys and Haylen boarded. With a gesture from Danse, Eva followed, making space as the Paladin stepped up behind her.

The Lancer glanced over his shoulder. “All set, Paladin?”

“Affirmative. Take us up.”

As the vertibird ascended, Eva peered out of the hatch, admiring the ruins of the Commonwealth below.

“Do not stand that close,” Danse warned. “The slightest amount of turbulence and you’ll be out of the hatch before anyone can react.”

She waved him off, only to yelp as he clamped a gauntlet around her forearm and pulled her away from the hatch.

“I mean it, Initiate.” His grip was tight around her arm as he frowned down at her. “I am not reporting to the Elder that his newest recruit had to be scraped off a rooftop.”

“Alright, alright!” she protested, cheeks burning as Rhys smirked from where he was perched on a bench. “I won’t go near it.”

When Danse finally released her arm, she leaned against the passenger seat of the cockpit. Her gaze dropped to the young pilot as she asked, “Mind if I sit?”

“Not at all,” he replied, eyes fixed on the controls. Once she settled in beside him, he glanced at her with a polite smile. “Name’s Lancer Howard.”

“Initiate Ward.” She studied the instruments, feeling nostalgic at the sight. “The crosswinds are rough today,” she murmured, watching the Lancer alter their course. “Tilting into the wind seems so counter-intuitive, doesn’t it? It’s remarkable how it actually stabilises the craft.”

Howard’s brows shot up as he looked at her again. “You fly?”

“I used to.” Her gaze softened as it fixed on the distant horizon. “I flew these things in the United States Army and ended up in cryostasis when the bombs dropped. My life story will be common knowledge by the end of the day, so you’ll get the full version soon enough.”

“Wow.” He grinned, clearly impressed with her already. “It must’ve been something amazing to be one of the first to pilot them.”

“It was,” Eva said softly. “There’s no kind of freedom like that of the sky.”

The Lancer hummed in agreement, flicking a few switches. “It’s a lot of hard graft, but it’s worth it in the end.”

Although her team had been eavesdropping on her conversation, she couldn’t find it in herself to care. Being back hundreds of feet in the sky and returning to a military life filled her with a newfound sense of purpose and excitement.

With a clang and a jolt that nearly made her vomit into her lap, the vertibird connected to a docking arm that levelled them with a catwalk. Rhys and Haylen disembarked immediately, heading straight for the bowels of the ship.

Danse jumped out next, landing with a solid thud against the metal grating. “Watch your step,” he cautioned. “The deck can often be slippery.”

Eva followed with caution, trying to ignore the building motion sickness as the Prydwen continued to traverse the sky.

“Welcome aboard, Initiate,” Danse said formally. “From now on, I expect you to address everyone correctly and maintain an appropriate level of decorum and respect at all times. Understood?”

“Understood, Paladin.”

Danse strode along the deck, stopping short of a man dressed in a navy coat and cap. With a strong salute, he asked, “Permission to come aboard, sir?”

“Permission granted, and welcome back, Paladin.” The officer returned the salute as she and Danse neared. “Let me be the first to congratulate you on a successful mission.” His gaze fell upon Eva, sharp and appraising. “Is this our newest recruit?”

“Yes, sir,” Danse replied. “I’ve field-promoted her to Initiate and wish to sponsor her entry into our rankings personally.”

“We’ve reviewed your reports. You’ll be pleased to know Elder Maxson has approved the request and placed the recruit in your charge.” The man finally extended a hand to her. “Lancer Captain Kells. Welcome aboard.”

“Initiate Ward,” Eva replied, gripping his hand tightly. “It’s an honour, sir. You command an impressive vessel.”

“I do,” he replied proudly. After running a critical eye across her again, he let go. “Though, if I’m being honest, you don’t look much like a soldier.”

“You should never judge a book by its cover, Captain. Looks can often be deceiving.”

The Lancer Captain’s expression softened into one of slight admiration. “A valid argument, Initiate. I won’t keep you any longer. You’re both expected to report to Elder Maxson immediately.”

With a final salute, Eva followed Danse along the flight deck. She slipped through the door he held open, taking a deep breath as nerves fluttered in her stomach. The interior screamed military: dimly lit, sparse, and filled with mechanical noise.

Inside the command deck stood a man gripping a railing as he stared out of a floor-to-ceiling pane of glass. Tall, broad-shouldered, and clad in a long brown coat embroidered with the Brotherhood insignia, he cut a figure that told her all she needed to know.

This was the Elder of the Brotherhood of Steel.

“Elder Maxson,” Danse greeted, standing at attention in the opening of the deck.

The Elder turned, assessing them both with a sharp eye before stepping closer, hands clasped behind his back.

“Paladin,” he said, his gravelly voice carrying across the room with ease. “It is good to have you back.”

“It’s good to be back, Elder,” Danse replied, his posture relaxing ever so slightly. “Did you receive my reports?”

A flicker of acknowledgement crossed Maxson’s face. “I did. You gathered valuable intelligence on whatever manner of filth is attempting to play God. They pose a dire threat to the Commonwealth, and by extension, to humanity. Your efforts are highly commendable.”

Danse kept his head held high. “Thank you, sir.”

“I also read of your losses,” he continued, though his tone had softened. “You have my condolences, Paladin. I will ensure that Proctor Quinlan returns their tags to the Citadel and records their names with full honours in the archives.”

Eva caught the subtle swallow Danse made before he answered with a quieter, “Thank you, sir.”

The Elder turned his attention to her, expression unreadable as his eyes searched her face. “You must be our latest recruit. Initiate Ward, is it?”

“Yes, sir. It’s an honour to be here, Elder Maxson,” she said, offering her hand with a polite smile. “I’ve heard great things.”

Maxson clasped it firmly, giving it a quick shake. “Paladin Danse’s reports speak highly of you, and as one of my most trusted officers, I believe in his judgement. Let’s hope you live up to the expectations, for the Brotherhood does not have time for incompetence.”

“I won’t disappoint you, Elder.”

“See to it that you don’t.” After a brief look out of the window, he turned his attention back to Danse. “Once we’ve docked and completed post-flight checks, I’ll address the crew here. Both of you are expected to attend.”

When Danse nodded, he looked back at Eva. “In the meantime, Initiate Ward, take some time to familiarise yourself with the ship and our chain of command. I expect to hear reports of how you left a first impression befitting that of a Brotherhood soldier. You’re both dismissed.”

As the pair gave him a crisp salute and turned to leave, Maxson’s voice called after them. “And Paladin?”

Danse paused, glancing over his shoulder. “Yes, Elder?”

“You did well. Be proud.”

Danse’s voice was uncertain as he replied with a grateful, “Thank you,” before heading up the ladder.

Eva followed him up the rungs, marvelling at how he managed to fit through the narrow opening in power armour. Standing on the main deck, he halted her with a firm, “Wait here.”

He quickly disappeared down the hallway, returning a few minutes later, devoid of his armour. With a few turns of a brass key, he opened a door, revealing a room consisting of a small double bed, a flag tacked to the wall, and neatly organised crates. His private quarters—sparse, simple, and boring.

Kneeling by a set of drawers as he unpacked the contents of his backpack, he glanced at her over his shoulder as she loitered by the door. “You have permission to enter, Initiate.”

Eva hesitated but obeyed, leaning against a nearby wall with her arms crossed. Once his pack was empty, he tossed it aside and rose to face her. “How are you feeling?” he asked, sitting on the metal railings at the foot of his bed.

Eva shrugged. “Alright, I guess. I’m looking forward to meeting the others.”

“And your impression of Elder Maxson?”

“He, uh…” She rubbed her arm, searching for the right words. “He comes across as a natural-born leader. He’s authoritative, confident, and well-spoken. I must admit, I’m excited to listen to his speech later.”

“That’s a relief to hear,” Danse said, his shoulders dropping as the tension dissipated. “Elder Maxson may be younger than most, but do not let that fool you. He’s a brilliant tactician, a formidable warrior, and possesses an idealistic vision for the Brotherhood’s future.”

Eva fixed him with a blank stare. “He’s… younger? If I’m permitted to ask, how old is our Elder?”

“Twenty,” Danse replied cautiously. “Almost twenty-one.”

Her brows drew together. For a moment, she tried to match the scarred, exhausted face against the age. In her mind, he could’ve passed as being twice his age.

Danse moved off the bed and took a step closer. “Is there a reason for your sudden questioning of his age?”

“No, sorry,” she said quickly, rubbing the back of her neck. “It’s just—he looks a bit older than his years, that’s all.”

Danse’s frown deepened. “War hardens boys into men. Elder Maxson proved himself from a young age and carries a powerful lineage that dates back to our founder. Personal opinions aside, I would advise refraining from remarking on it further.”

“Understood,” Eva said with an awkward smile. “Apologies, Paladin.”

“No apology required,” he said, opening the door. “Now, are you ready to become a true part of the Brotherhood of Steel?”

Eva’s wide grin broke through her nerves. “I’ve never been more ready, Paladin.”

Chapter Text

“...Which is why they’d designated it as the ‘crème de la crème’ of power armour. It's a solid bit of kit.”

Eva had sought out Proctor Ingram, having split up from Danse when his attention was requested by the beady-eyed Proctor Quinlan. Mentally drained from shaking hands with all of the Proctors and running through a thoroughly intrusive medical assessment with their Knight-Captain, she’d taken the opportunity to openly critique their choice in armour.

Danse eventually strode back over, leaning back against a workbench, arms crossed, watching her wave her hands animatedly as she explained the benefits of T-60 over its predecessors.

The fiery Proctor matched her enthusiasm, demonstrating the modifications she was working on for future improvements. Eventually, she trailed off, side-eying the Paladin.

“Apologies, Paladin. I’m not keeping you, am I?”

“Not at all, but we do need to move on,” he replied, pushing away from the bench and handing Eva an olive-coloured flight suit. Leading her up a staircase to the side, he stopped short of a single bed sandwiched between a row of others. “Now that you’re an active member, our uniform policy will apply whenever you’re on duty. Elder Maxson has set his speech for”—he glanced up at a clock—“thirteen minutes. Get changed and meet me on the command deck.”

“Understood, Paladin.”

Eva watched him jog back down the stairs before staring at the flight suit for a while, rubbing her thumbs over the fabric. Though she could finally ditch her vault suit, what she was trading it for wasn’t any more glamorous.

At least it isn’t orange. Danse and I could’ve been matching, like families in their pyjamas on Christmas Day.

Quickly switching out the outfits, trying to ignore the lingering stares of other soldiers, she headed for the ladder. No sooner had she reached the bottom rung and turned, she made eye contact with the Elder through the sea of soldiers crowding the deck. She tentatively joined Danse where he leaned against the entryway.

With a loud clearing of his throat, Maxson launched into his speech.

“Beneath the Commonwealth, there is a cancer known as the Institute—a malignant growth that needs to be cut before it infects the surface.” He paced back and forth, tapping a clenched fist against his palm. “They are experimenting with dangerous technologies that could prove to be the world's undoing for the second time in recent history.”

Eva rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet, listening intently as the Elder educated the room on the history of synths, the dangers they posed, and the likely outcome if they turned a blind eye to the Institute’s activities.

When his speech reached its grand finale, the room erupted into a symphony of “Ad Victoriam." While Eva missed the chance to join in, she did follow suit with the salute they all gave afterwards.

The Elder seems to have quite an influence on his people.

While he dismissed the room, he pointed a finger at her, silently requesting that she remain behind. With a parting nod from Danse, she waited for the room to clear before stepping to the Elder’s side, joining him in looking out of the windows.

“I care about them, you know. The people of the Commonwealth.”

The words left his mouth so quietly she wasn’t sure if he was talking out loud or addressing her. Given he’d turned to look at her, she made the assumption that it was the latter.

“Someone has to step up to protect these people,” she agreed, studying the way the waves rolled across the sand below. “It’s honourable of you to do so.”

The Elder hesitated for a moment before letting out a low hum, turning his gaze back to the window. “We’ve fought all matters of abominations in our time. Fragile robots are a token threat in comparison.”

“I have no doubts in the Brotherhood’s abilities, sir.”

“Paladin Danse’s report mentioned you’re reasonably well versed in the operations of war, though it was devoid of significant details.” He turned to lean his hip against the railing, silently studying her. “May I ask how you came to be acclimatised to such operations?”

“What I’m about to tell you may come across as utter lunacy, but I can assure you it’s truthful, sir.” She let her expression soften as she met his assessing stare. “I was alive before the bombs fell, and was put into cryostasis up until a few weeks ago—though I’d rather not go into the nitty gritty details. I served in the United States Army for a while, both as a combat medic and as a pilot.”

“I had noticed you wore one of those vault suits,” he said with air of caution in his tone. “Are you certain in your abilities following an extensive period of leave from the military?”

Eva straightened, looking him in the eye. “I can assure you my history will not impact my abilities in the field, sir.”

Tilting his chin up slightly, he gave her a short nod. “A sponsorship from one of my most trusted advisers is one of the highest recommendations available. I sincerely hope you make us proud, Initiate. Dismissed.”

Setting an example by giving him a proud salute, she turned and headed back up the ladder. As she strolled through the mess hall and into the bays, a familiar orange flight suit caught her eye.

Dragging a green crate across the floor, she sat by the Paladin’s side, watching as he knelt before a suit of T-60, greasing a knee joint.

Pulling her legs to sit cross legged on the narrow crate, she asked, “Whatcha doing to your suit?”

“It isn’t my suit,” he murmured, furrowing his brow in concentration as he pushed a rag deeper into the groove. “It’s yours.”

Eva’s eyes widened. “I have a personal suit of power armour?”

“Yes. If you are going to be out in the field, you will need adequate protection. While you were with Elder Maxson, I took it for a test run and discovered the leg was sticking.” He rose, wiping his hand on a towel. “The issue should be resolved now, but let me know if you run into any further issues.”

“Of course. Thank you, Danse,” she said, making a mental note to find him a suitable gift for the gesture. “Though, I do prefer standard armour. While power armour is indisputably advantageous in overall protection, they’re bulky, stuffy, and—” Her eyes scanned the armour as she swallowed nervously. “Confined.”

“You’re claustrophobic?” Danse asked, frowning slightly as he tossed the towel aside. “You neglected to disclose this during your medical assessment.”

“Surprisingly I’m not,” she replied, tearing her eyes away from the metal shell. “I believe it’s only temporary. I’d prefer to avoid cramped, metal cages for a while, if it’s all the same to you.”

“I… I suppose those are exceptional circumstances, though I would prefer you utilised it for higher-risk situations.” Leading her back through the mess hall, he asked, “How did it go with Elder Maxson?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary, just the usual ‘size up the subordinate to see if they crack’ gig.” Turning her head to look up at him, she narrowed her eyes. “Are you ashamed of recruiting a vault dweller? The Elder was quite surprised that you’d decided to omit that information.”

Danse’s response was almost immediate as his eyes snapped to hers. “Of course not. You weren’t very forthcoming with the information given it is a sensitive topic. Given it doesn’t have any impact on your role here, I didn’t feel it was my place to disclose it without your approval.”

“Oh. I, uh…” Stopping outside his quarters, Eva leaned against the wall, picking at the strap of her Pip-Boy. “Thank you for looking out for me, I guess.”

With a single nod, he moved inside, holding the door open with the tips of his fingers and glancing back as a signal for her to follow. As he rummaged through a box, pulling out a small tube of animal-based gun lubricant and setting it down beside a disassembled pistol spread across his desk, he asked, “Did Elder Maxson run through the details of your sponsorship?”

“No.”

Leaning back against his desk, he folded his arms across his chest. “Well, now is the ample opportunity then. Elder Maxson is understandably… particular, when it comes to new members, and believes bonding and mentorship are key. As your sponsor, it is my duty to travel with you, both to provide you with guidance where necessary, and to ensure you are upholding our ideals.”

“So… a babysitter?” Eva asked, arching a brow. “You made it out like I didn’t have to bring you to the city, and now you’re saying your presence is mandatory?”

“Only when you are representing the Brotherhood, on missions or alike. Outside of that, it is entirely your decision as to whether you’d like to travel alo—”

A quiet tapping at the door halted him in his tracks, and Eva pulled the door open before he could say a word. On the other side, stood a nervous boy, who couldn’t have been any older than ten years of age.

I sure hope this isn’t a child soldier I’m looking at right now.

“Squire Abrams,” Danse said sternly, stepping closer. “How can I be of assistance?”

“Elder Maxson has requested your attendance on the flight deck, sir.” Though his posture was ramrod straight, the twitch of his eyes indicated his nerves. “He would like your sponsor to accompany you too.”

“Understood.” Danse nodded to the boy. “Thank you, Squire.”

Standing at the end of the Prydwen’s flight deck a few minutes later, she joined the Paladin and Elder in staring at the ruins of Fort Strong in the distance.

The Elder glanced between the pair before letting out a loud sigh. “I understand you have only been back for a short period of time, but a security threat has presented itself to us. One we cannot afford to turn a blind eye to.”

“That’s Fort Strong,” Eva murmured, hands clasped behind her back as the wind whipped her hair across her eyes. “An ideal location for any opposition to occupy.”

“They’d have a difficult time securing it, for the place is infested with super mutants.” His lip curled in disgust. “Having those aberrations of nature close enough to smell is making me sick to my stomach. But to make matters worse, they're sitting on top of a massive stockpile of Fat Man shells.”

Eva huffed, shaking her head in disbelief. “And we definitely don’t want those heading our way. Fire and hydrogen don’t make for a pretty pair.”

“Allowing them to have a nuclear arsenal at their fingertips would be a death sentence, which is why I want you both to head over there, wipe out everything that moves, and secure the stockpile.”

Danse let go of the railings and nodded at the Elder, accompanying it with a determined, “It'll be a pleasure to exterminate that mutant filth.”

“A vertibird is waiting to take you once you’re suited and ready,” Maxson replied, pointing towards one of the docked aircraft. “Ad Victoriam.”

—

“Fuck these things,” Eva grumbled down the microphone of her power armour helmet, lingering by the hatch of the vertibird as they soared across the Atlantic. “It’s so unbelievably hot in here.”

Danse didn’t even look at her, keeping his gaze fixed ahead as he gripped a rail above him. “Better to be hot than dead.”

If he could’ve seen the eye roll she did behind the helmet, she’d have been scraping rust off the Prydwen for the remainder of the week.

Before they’d departed, they’d spent the best part of ten minutes debating over the level of protection required for the mission. Danse, however, entertained none of her complaints.

“A super mutant will lift you off the ground and turn you into paste across a wall without a second thought. It is non-negotiable, Initiate, so stop wasting time before I inform the Elder that you are unprepared to undergo your first mission.”

Deciding not to provoke him with further whining, she swallowed her fears as a Lancer called out to them both.

“Behemoth spotted!”

“Initiate, hold steady on the minigun and keep it trained in your sights at all times,” Danse barked, leaning out of the hatch to get a better look at the green monstrosity patrolling the nearby ruins. “Give them hell!”

Sweat trickled down her brow as she opened fire, sending endless rounds into its thick skin. With each ting of casing ricocheting off the vertibird as it left the gun in her grip, she prayed the rocks being hurtled in their direction wouldn’t knock them clean out of the sky.

After a few minutes of circling the beast, the behemoth fell backwards, lying motionless on the pavement. The Lancer moved to an open patch of land, beginning a swift descent.

“You’ll need to go on foot from here on out,” he shouted down the headset. “I need to high-tail it back to the Prydwen for repairs.”

Danse had barely called out, “Roger that,” before he leapt out of the hatch and opened fire on the other mutants that’d decided to close in.

Eva quickly moved to his side, weaving between vehicles and partially collapsed walls until the exterior had been cleared of hostiles. The pair breached the main doors, sweeping the rooms and picking off the few, unsuspecting mutants lurking inside. After a short elevator ride to the basement, they eliminated the remainder, narrowly avoiding a missile to the face in the process.

As Eva inspected the cases of shells neatly stacked in a storage area, Danse removed his helmet and pulled a radio from his armour, tuning into the Prydwen’s frequency to deliver the news.

“A job well done,” the Elder said, voice crackling as it came through the small speaker. “Report back to the Prydwen as soon as you’re able.”

“Understood, sir,” Danse replied, glaring down at a corpse, admiring the smoking hole left behind from his rifle. “We will depart shortly.”

“You seem to have quite the hatred for these things,” Eva said, nudging one with the toe of her armoured boot. “More so than ferals.”

“Hate is too gentle a word,” Danse said with a strong scowl. “These monstrosities are just another example of man blindly taking a step forward, only to wind up stumbling two steps back. They are freaks of nature, and simply shouldn’t exist.”

“It’s kind of sad to think they were once people, with hopes and dreams like the rest of us.”

“Try not to think of it that way,” Danse replied, fixing her with a firm stare through her visor. “They won’t show you the same level of compassion.” A momentary flicker of sadness broke through his guard before his expression hardened. “They were responsible for the death of a close friend, and they sure didn’t show him any.”

“I’m… sorry to hear that, Danse,” she said softly, watching him put his helmet back on as they headed for the elevator. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, but I appreciate the offer.”

The elevator ride back to the surface was quiet, save for mechanical groaning. When they reached the entrance, Danse mumbled about how they’d hold position until whichever team Maxson had sent to retrieve the explosives had arrived.

In the meantime, she moved into a nearby office, idly studying the flags and portraits hanging from the peeling beige walls. Staring into the eyes of a man depicted in a painting, she removed her helmet and tucked it beneath her arm, denoting it as a mark of respect. Soon after, the floorboards creaked behind her.

“Is everything alright, Initiate?”

“Yeah,” Eva breathed out, keeping her eyes fixed on the portrait. “I… I knew him. It feels weird looking at the face of someone you know is gone. Someone you outlived.”

Danse stepped to her side, gaze going between her and the painting. With a soft groan, he too removed his helmet. “Were you close?”

“Not really. His name was General Brock. Nate and I attended a few meetings here, but he and Nate got along well. When Shaun was born, he sent a big old congratulatory bouquet of flowers to our doorstep.” Eva paused, focusing on her breathing as she looked to the floor. “I sometimes wonder what happened to everyone—what their final moments were like.”

“Try not to dwell on what was beyond your control,” Danse said quietly, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Keep hold of the memories you made with them, and let the pain fuel your fire to make this world a better place for everyone.”

The sound of propellers growing closer cut their conversation short, with Danse immediately leaving the room. With a pre-war salute to the portrait, she slipped her helmet back onto her head and headed outside.

Instead of heading back on foot beneath the setting sun, Danse requested that the Lancer taxi them back while the Scribes and Knights ferried the stockpile to the pick-up point. Once they’d disembarked onto the Prydwen, they ditched their power armour and reported into Elder Maxson, receiving a proud commendation from him in the process.

Parting ways with Danse, who’d grumbled about needing a shower, she swiped a few snacks from the mess hall and headed up the stairs to her bunk.

Lying on the firm cot, tucked up beneath a khaki coloured duvet, she tapped away at her Pip-Boy, deeply invested in beating her high score on Pipfall. Around her, other soldiers began to turn in.

As night began to fall, Eva slipped a book out of her pack, rolling towards the glow of a small, flickering candle atop her bedside table. As the top deck was slowly swallowed by darkness and filled with soft snores, her wrist went slack as sleep began to pull her under.

The sound of two soldiers climbing the stairs quickly roused her. She twisted slightly, watching as they leaned back against a bed in the corner of the deck. Their voices were quiet, but she could hear every word.

And every one of them was about her.

“Brady overheard the Elder talking about her earlier. Apparently, she crawled out of some vault. God only knows why she decided to join an army, of all things. Weird, if you ask me.”

The other soldier hummed in reply, flicking a lighter open and closed. “I heard Paladin Danse personally recruited her for saving his teams ass.”

“Bollocks. There’s no way the Paladin needed saving by a vault dweller.” A low chuckle followed. “Maybe he has a thing for her.”

Though she’d turned back to her original position, she could feel their eyes on her back.

“Paladin Danse? Nah, no way.” The younger one scoffed, snapping his lighter shut. “Though, she does have a nice ass.”

“It’s those vault suits, I’m telling you,” the other one said with a laugh. “The one at the Citadel was the same.”

Her eyes shot open.

They’d recruited other vault inhabitants before?

“Reckon she’ll last?” one asked.

“Nah, no chance.” The creak of a bed followed. “I don’t care what they claim she brings to the table, those vault idiots are all mouth and no muscle.”

Eva tried to block out their words—to stop them from sinking into her mind and corrupting her optimism before her first night aboard had even ended.

But they did.

Rolling onto her back, she felt trapped, unable to express her emotions amidst dozens of judgemental strangers. Though her brain screamed for rest, her eyes continued to stare into the void of darkness above her.

It was going to be a long, long night.

Chapter Text

The only thing worse than Brotherhood gossip was their food.

Sitting at a table the next afternoon, Eva pushed a spoon through a bowl of brown sludge, watching soldiers file in and out of the mess hall. Across from her, Danse wordlessly tucked in, his eyes scanning a technical document spread across the table, seemingly unfazed by the flavourless gruel.

I’d rather eat my boot than whatever this is.

When she sighed, his eyes lifted, flicking from her face to her untouched lunch. The message was clear enough: you were warned, so quit being picky.

Clearing his bowl with meticulous scrapes of a spoon, he set it aside and studied her. “You look… tired.”

“Thanks for pointing out that I look like shit,” Eva said with a light chuckle. Giving her food another prod, she added, “I struggle to sleep in new environments, but I’ll get used to it.”

Danse pursed his lips. “It wasn’t my intention to offend you, Initiate. I was concerned that you might have had trouble with your bunk or something of that sort.”

She waved him off and stretched across the table, dragging over an issue of Guns and Bullets a Scribe had abandoned. Thankfully, he dropped the matter and opted to clear his tray at a nearby bin.

“I have an errand to run for Proctor Teagan,” he said, loitering at the foot of the table, tapping it with his fingertips. “If you are required for anything, I will send for you. Until then, you’re free to do as you please. If you decide to leave the Prydwen, make sure you notify either me or Elder Maxson in advance.”

“Will do,” she replied, swinging her spoon idly between her thumb and finger, keeping her eyes fixed on the print. “I’ll see you soon, then.”

Over the next twenty minutes, soldiers came and went—fetching their lunch, carting supplies through, and heading off to missions—but none of them paid her any mind. Dressed like everyone else, with a neutral expression to match, Eva began to think she was finally blending in.

Until three soldiers sat down opposite her—two of whom she recognised immediately.

“You must be Initiate Ward,” came the semi-polite greeting of the young woman sandwiched between the two men who’d spoken ill of her.

“The one and only,” Eva replied, arching a brow. “How can I help you?”

“Oh, we don’t need help.” The woman flashed her a smile so fake it hurt. “We just wanted to say hello to the newest recruit—didn’t we, boys?”

Both men hummed in agreement, their gazes lingering shamelessly on her torso.

“We’ve heard all sorts of lovely things about you and thought we’d put a face to the name,” she continued with her smarmy tone. “How’s it been? Swapping vault life for military life must be pretty tough.”

“This is preferable.” Eva shrugged, flicking through the magazine. “I’ve served in armies far larger. This is child’s play in comparison.”

“Bullshit,” one of the men scoffed. “An army bigger than ours? Don’t make me laugh. If you’re going to lie, at least make it believable. You probably spent your days playing board games and drinking fancy wine from crystal glasses.”

Eva leaned forward, lowering her voice. “I couldn’t give a single fuck about what you think, or what you said about me last night. I have nothing to prove to any of you.”

“Actually, as a newcomer, you have everything to prove,” the woman chimed in, forcing civility into her tone so as not to draw attention. Suddenly, her arm shot out, snatching the magazine off the table and rolling it up in her lap. “You won’t be needing that, Initiate—it’s far too distracting. If you want to be like the rest of us, you’d better start working for it.”

The man to her right chuckled. “She’s probably waiting for Paladin Danse to get back so she can follow him around like a lost dog again.”

Eva stared at the table, jaw tight, hands trembling as she fought to stay calm. Their snickers and pats on one another’s backs grated on her nerves.

But she was too far gone. The bear in her had been well and truly poked.

She leapt to her feet, swiping a fork off the table and holding the tines against the youngest man’s throat.

“Fuck you,” she growled. “I ought to tell Paladin Danse about the disgusting, perverse drivel you—”

“INITIATE!”

Eva froze as the familiar voice thundered through the mess hall. In an instant, the room fell silent. Every soldier stopped what they were doing to fix their eyes on her.

So much for blending in.

The fork clattered to the table as she turned, coming face to face with none other than Elder Maxson. Stepping to the end of the table, his infuriated gaze moved from her to the offending trio.

“Apologise to your fellow sister and dismiss yourselves,” he ordered, leaving no room for argument.

The three scrambled to obey, stammering apologies before scampering off down the hallway. With a gentle sweep of a hand, Maxson gestured to her seat before taking the one opposite.

“Threatening to assault a fellow brother or sister is a serious breach of conduct—one that carries severe consequences.” His gaze swept the room, silently commanding the spectators to return to their own business. “Explain yourself.”

“I was at fault, sir,” Eva lied, picking at her hands beneath the table. “I became territorial when all they wanted to do was sit at this table. I apologise for my behaviour and accept any punishment you deem fit.”

Maxson’s icy stare held hers. “I find dishonesty highly offensive, Initiate. Perhaps you’d care to explain what transpired before Knight Elkins confiscated your magazine?”

Eva let her gaze fall to the table. “I… I’d rather not have enemies on my first proper day, Elder,” she murmured. “Regardless of what they did, I shouldn’t have threatened him like that.”

“I will ask one more time,” Maxson said firmly. “What happened before the part I witnessed?”

Eva looked around the room, conscious of eavesdroppers. “It started last night. They were openly speculating about my past and the… the nature of my relationship with my sponsor.”

Maxson nodded slowly, absorbing the information as he drew in a deep breath. “Thank you, Initiate. While your behaviour was unacceptable, it didn’t stem from unmeritorious grounds. I’ll see that the instigators are disciplined appropriately. You will not face a formal reprimand this time, but consider it your only exception.”

Before she could reply, Danse strode into the hall with a face like thunder.

“I’ve been informed of an incident that took place here,” he said, frowning at her before turning to Maxson. “Elder, on behalf of my—”

“Not required, Paladin.” Maxson cut him off with a flick of his hand, slowly rising from his seat. “Initiate Ward was subjected to unsavoury remarks and actions by three Knights—all of whom are about to receive a serious reprimand. If you’ll excuse me.”

“Of course, Elder,” Danse said, nodding as Maxson clasped his shoulder on his way out of the canteen. Once he was gone, Danse took a seat beside her with a sigh. “Proctor Ingram said you were holding a fork to Knight Jackson’s throat. Tell me everything, right from the beginning.”

Eva rubbed her palms across her thighs, letting out a shaky breath. Keeping her voice low, she told him everything that happened from the moment he left that morning, and most of what the two Knights had said the night before.

“…There was more,” she finished quietly. “Mainly speculation on why you specifically chose to recruit me. I won’t repeat it out of respect for you, because their words were… insulting.”

Danse picked up the fork and tapped it against the table. “I see.” He paused, then met her eyes with a softened expression. “I can only apologise for their conduct. But know that, contrary to their assumptions, I recruited you because of the potential I believe you possess.”

“You needn’t apologise,” Eva said with a small shrug. “I chalk it up to immaturity and regret taking the bait. As I told them, I couldn’t care less about what they think.”

“I hope it hasn’t tarnished your opinion of the Brotherhood. You belong here, and that’s that,” he said, offering her a reassuring smile. “Putting this aside, do you have any plans for the remainder of today? Anything you’d like to work on or learn?”

“I’d like to head into the city, actually. I’ve wasted most of the morning procrastinating, so I’ll probably leave within the hour.”

Danse nodded once. “Very well. There’s no obligation for my attendance, given it isn’t Brotherhood business. I would like to tag along if the offer is there, however.”

Eva gave him her first genuine smile of the day and patted the table. “A wise robot once told me, ‘the more, the merrier’. You might want to pack an overnight bag, just in case.”

“Understood, Initiate. I’ll also inform Elder Maxson of our departure. Meet me on the flight deck in thirty minutes.”

—

“Paper, paper! Get your paper!”

Balancing precariously atop a stack of old milk crates, a young girl repeatedly shouted the same line to the city-goers, waving a rolled-up newspaper through the air. Without warning, she swatted it through the air in front of Eva, startling her.

“Hey, you—mister and missus,” the girl said, squinting at them. “Ain’t seen your faces before. D’ya like the news?”

“Uh… if it’s decent,” Eva replied dryly, arching a brow. “I can’t stand falsified, exaggerated drivel. How much for a copy?”

The girl thrust the paper towards her with a grin. “This one’s on the house,” she grinned, patting a small pouch attached to her tatty pink skirt. “Future ones’ll cost you ten caps.”

“Thank you.” Eva accepted the paper with a short nod, tapping it against her palm. “If it’s not too much trouble, could you point me towards the detective’s place?”

“That’d be Nicky Valentine you’re lookin’ for.” The girl pointed towards a cluster of shops. “There’s a big ol’ neon sign behind them shops. Can’t miss it.”

Eva swung her pack around, sliding the paper into it and pulling out twenty caps that she placed into the girl’s hand. “For your generosity. I appreciate it.”

With Danse clanking at her heels, Eva navigated the bustling market, heading around the back and stopping short of a buzzing pink sign hanging from the side of a rusted shack. She rapped her knuckles against the door, smiling as a friendly voice from within called for them to enter.

She pushed the door open and froze as she came face to face with none other than a synth. Any trace of her smile dropped in an instant.

A fucking robot has infiltrated the detective agency.

But before she could react, the figure extended a hand, greeting her with a calm, cordial, “Nick Valentine.”

Her gaze swept up his body, taking in the beige trench coat, fedora, and cigarette dangling from his mouth. Slowly, the pieces clicked together.

The detective… is a synth.

Danse’s aggravated voice yanked her from her thoughts. “Step aside, Initiate. I will handle it from here.”

With his rifle drawn and the safety disengaged, it was clear what handling it meant.

Eva spun round, positioning herself between the two of them before he could take another step. “Please don’t do this, Danse.” Her hand went to the barrel of his gun, keeping it pointed to the floor. “He’s—” Eva let out a pained, choked sound. “He’s the only lead I have in finding my son. Please don’t make me beg.”

The soft whine of the servos in his knees cut through the silence as he shifted. “You are refusing to obey the direct order of a superior officer,” he warned with a frown. “Stand down.”

“We are not on Brotherhood business.” Fists clenched by her sides, Eva held her posture steady. “You don’t need to do this.”

“This is exactly what I need to do.” He jerked his chin towards Valentine. “That thing is an imitation that has infiltrated this agency. It could turn on either of us at any second.”

Eva dropped her voice to little more than a whisper, conscious of how close Nick was. “I don’t think that’s true. I mean… look at him. He has chunks missing from wear and tear. That isn’t new. And that lady sure isn’t screaming about his presence.”

Danse’s grip tightened around the rifle. “Taking chances is what gets people killed,” he said. “Stand down. I will not ask again.”

“My son is the only reason I left that goddamn vault,” she whispered, fighting back the tears blurring her vision. “If you take this away from me, it’ll be the last you ever see or hear of me.”

His eyes sharpened as they searched hers. “You’re asking me to betray my oath.”

“I’m asking you to trust me.” Her lip trembled slightly as she held his gaze. “But if you can’t, then you’ll have to shoot me first, because I will try to protect him until I get answers.”

For a moment, neither person moved. His jaw tightened as the air became thick enough to cut with a knife. After a long minute, he let out a defeated sigh. “Do as you need,” he muttered, leaning down to speak quietly into her ear. “But once your business has concluded, the threat will be dealt with.”

The detective groaned in relief behind her. “Well, that was quite the introduction,” he muttered, lowering himself onto a rickety desk chair. With his glowing yellow eyes trained on both of them, he lit the tip of the cigarette. “Now, if you need help finding a missing child, I’m all ears—though I will need a head.”

“I’m sorry,” Eva said softly, closing her eyes as Danse huffed behind her. “If you’d be willing to help me, I’d be forever in your debt.”

“Don’t worry, I know Brotherhood when I see them,” Nick replied, taking a long drag. His gaze drifted to Danse, who’d decided to lean against a wall, staring at a door. “And I’m on their black-and-white list of everything to despise. Take a seat so we can run through some details.”

Eva sank into a worn, cream-coloured armchair and steeled her nerves for a trip down memory lane. As Nick scrawled away on his notepad, offering the occasional hum or nod, she told him everything—from waking in the vault, to the final, cold words of her son’s abductor.

When she finished, Nick leaned back and said a single word.

“Kellogg.”

Her heart skipped at the mention of a name. “Kellogg? You think that’s him?”

“I’d say so.” The detective scratched at his chin. “Ellie, what do we have on the Kellogg case?”

The secretary set down her stack of papers and retrieved a thick folder from a filing cabinet. Flicking through the contents, she read out select parts. “Bald head. Scar. Reputation for dangerous mercenary work. The description fits.”

Nick hesitated for a moment. “Man had a house up in the stands for a while. Lived with a boy who couldn’t have been any older than ten. Nine-to-one odds say he’s our man. It's more than just you identifying his distinguishing features. The MO is all him as well.”

Eva stared at him. “That can’t be Shaun. He was only two months old.”

Nick tapped his pencil against the pad. “You mentioned you were refrozen. Any idea on how long it was between then and when you left the vault?”

Eva dropped her gaze to the desk. “No.”

“Well, they both vanished some time ago, and the house sat vacant ever since.” He tore a sheet from the notepad and tucked it into a fresh folder. “Let’s go take a look at the place, see if we can uncover anything.”

Eva swiftly moved from her chair to the door with an enthusiastic, “Let’s not waste any time,” shooting Danse a pointed look on the way out.

After following Nick up to a derelict shack and watching him snap a few bobby pins with muttered curses, the lock clicked into place. Danse took point, pushing the door open to reveal a musty, dust-covered living room. The trio moved inside, guns drawn as they looked high and low for a lead.

Danse crouched behind a desk. “There’s a button here,” he said, beckoning Eva over with a jerk of his head. “I’d advise extreme caution in pressing it, however. There’s no telling whether or not it is a trap.”

“This is a false wall,” Nick noted, running his palm along a faint, vertical seam. “My bet is they’re connected.”

Eva hesitated for a moment before pressing the button. With a mechanical hiss, the wall slid aside.

“Well, well, well,” Nick drawled. “Because there’s nothing suspicious about a hidden room. Come on then, Kellogg. Whatcha got hiding in here?”

Eva moved in behind him, taking in the various boxes of cigars and bottles of alcohol dotted about. In the background, Nick leaned over a terminal, tapping away at the keyboard.

“Seems our friend had quite an interest in Fort Hagen,” he murmured, reading through a long wall of text. “And it looks like we’ve got ourselves a lead.”

“Thank you, Nick.”

Eva let out a long, shaky breath and tilted her head back as relief flooded her senses. With a friendly smile, she followed him out of the house, ignoring the questioning look from the Paladin who’d opted to wait outside.

“It’s no trouble, doll,” Nick replied, pulling another cigarette from a carton and tapping it against his palm. “I’ll add it to the case file. From there, it’s your call.”

“A few hours ago, I didn’t even have a name,” she said, following him down a ramp. “Now I have somewhere to look. Fort Hagen will be my next stop. I won’t rest until I find him.”

At the end of the alleyway, Nick cupped his hand around the cigarette and lit it. “If you need backup, just ask,” he said as wisps of smoke drifted from his artificial lips. “A word of warning, though—this ol’ private eye has seen better days when it comes to fighting.”

Eva let out a huff of laughter. “I might take you up on that.” For a moment, she watched a guard usher a drunkard into their home. “Say, is there a watering hole and somewhere to lay our heads nearby?”

“Turn left before the paper shop,” Nick said, gesturing with a flick of his cigarette. “You’ll come across the Dugout Inn. The beer tastes like warm spit, but you'll be hard-pressed to find a friendlier place for a drink. They run a hotel, if you can really call it that.”

“Thanks, Nick. I owe you one.”

With a tilt of his fedora, he retreated down the alley. Eva immediately made for the market, barely rounding the corner as Danse spoke up behind her.

“We need to talk.”

Chapter Text

“Welcome, friends! Welcome!”

Eva had barely crossed the threshold of the dimly lit bar before the thickly Ukrainian-accented bartender beckoned them closer with an eager wave. As she approached, he plucked a bottle from a shelf and set it on the counter in front of him.

“Best moonshine in the Commonwealth!” he declared proudly. “Would you perhaps care to try some?”

“I’m good, but thanks,” Eva said, admiring the label as she leaned against the bar. “We were looking for two rooms for the night. Would you happen to have any?”

“Ah! Let me see here,” he mused, turning to study a rack of keys. “Rooms two and three are available. Ten caps, and they’re all yours.”

Bargain.

“Enjoy, lapochka,” the man said, handing over two brass keys in exchange for the caps. “Are you sure you would not like a drink to accompany your stay?”

“Later, maybe,” Eva smiled, giving him a polite nod before tossing one key over her shoulder to Danse and making a beeline for the rooms. While he fumbled to retrieve it from the floor, she unlocked her door and slipped inside, quickly re-locking it.

For a moment, she kept her back pressed against the door, listening as he stomped past and into his own room. Letting out a breath she didn’t realise she was holding, she moved further inside, tossed her pack onto an armchair, removed her combat armour, and flopped backwards onto the bed with a sigh of pure exasperation.

Rolling onto her side, she tapped her Pip-Boy and booted up Zeta Invaders, deciding to pass the time by destroying pixelated spaceships. An hour later, she stared at the GAME OVER screen, having missed her high score by twenty-three points. A sharp knock at the door halted her from starting over.

“Eva,” came Danse’s voice from the other side, thick with a mix of annoyance and concern. “Are you in there?”

She rolled her eyes and dropped her arm to the bed. “Go away.”

There was a long pause before he spoke again.

“We need to talk, Eva. Open up.”

“We have nothing to talk about, Paladin.” Her voice was flat and cold as she stared at the ceiling. “If you wish to accompany me to Fort Hagen, I’d suggest you get some rest.”

“We have plenty to discuss. As your commanding offi—”

“You’re not on active duty,” she snapped, sitting bolt upright. “So don’t even bother pulling rank on me. I’m not sure which part of ‘go away’ you’re failing to understand, but it’s grating on me.”

“Whether you are on or off duty, you still represent the Brotherhood. If you insist on refusing, I’ll have no choice but to inform Elder Maxson of your insub—”

The rest of his words were cut off when the door flew open and banged against the wall. Danse froze mid-sentence as Eva glared up at him, but quickly pushed past her, muttering something under his breath. Eva kicked the door shut behind him and turned on her heel.

“What was that, Paladin?”

Danse squared his shoulders and clasped his hands behind his back, standing toe to toe with her. “Today, your conduct was unacceptable. You not only prevented your commanding officer from carrying out his sworn duty, but you also attempted to blackmail him. Both are serious grounds for dismissal, Initiate.”

“Then write me up,” Eva shot back, throwing her arms wide. “Go on, I couldn’t care less.”

“I wasn’t—”

“No, none of that.” Eva cut him off with a dismissive wave. “If you’re so hellbent on following your precious Codex to the T, then write me up!”

Danse’s frown deepened as he studied her. “I have no idea where this sudden change in attitude has come from.”

“Oh, you have every idea,” she growled, stepping closer. “It started when you nearly cost me the only lead I have on finding my son. And I’ll tell you something right now—he will always come first. Not the Brotherhood. Not their ideals. Not their Elder. Not even you. My family is all I have left, and I will tear my way through anyone who tries to stand in the way, consequences be damned.”

The hardness in Danse’s expression faltered for a split second. “You don’t mean that,” he said quietly. “If you didn’t care for the Brotherhood or what we stand for, you wouldn’t have joined.”

“Or maybe I joined out of pity for you and your dwindling little squa—” She caught herself mid-sentence, letting the remainder of the cruel lie die on her tongue. With a shaky exhale, she ran a hand across her face. “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for. Just… write me up and get it over with.”

Danse’s expression was unyielding as he stared at her for a moment. “I’m not going to write you up. Your emotions and personal objectives are clouding your judgement, and I don’t believe your ideals are so misaligned with ours that you wouldn’t follow orders under normal circumstances.”

Eva let out a bitter laugh. “You know what’s rich? You didn’t even ‘eliminate the threat’ in the end. Perhaps you should practice what you preach before you give a lecture on following rules.”

“I spared the synth because you might need its help after visiting Fort Hagen,” Danse said bluntly. “As I told you, either you or I will destroy it once you have no further need for it.”

“Absolutely not.”

Danse stepped closer, looming over her like a predator. “What did you just say?”

“I said no.” Her lip curled as she stood her ground. “This world may be cruel and unforgiving, but I won’t be part of it. If you think I’m thanking someone who helped me with a bullet to their head, you’re dead wrong.”

“That someone is a machine!” Danse snapped. “It is an artificial abomination that simply should not exist. You saw what super mutants and ghouls do to people—can you imagine what those synths would do if they got the upper hand?”

When Eva didn’t reply, he began to pace as anger rolled off him in waves. “It would be Armageddon repeated, and maybe the end of everything that we hold dear. That thing you’re defending is one of many preparing to bring humanity to its knees.”

“He isn’t hostile!” Eva cried out, shaking her head as her voice cracked.

“You don’t know that!” Danse yelled, clenching his jaw as he came to a stop. “What happens when the Institute flips the switch in its head? Do you think it’ll hesitate before gunning down every innocent civilian living in this city?”

“You don’t know that either!” she shot back in desperation. “You’re condemning him on nothing but speculation, and it’s unfair! I’m not going to tar him with the same brush.”

Danse let out a sharp breath and shook his head. “This conversation is over. Tomorrow, we will head to Fort Hagen and follow up on this supposed lead. Once that’s done, we’ll return to the city and deal with the situation appropriately—as is expected of us.” With a jerk of his chin towards the door, he added a curt, “Dismissed.”

Eva rolled her eyes. “I think you’ll find you’re in my room, so perhaps you should dismiss yourself.”

He muttered something under his breath before storming out. As the door slammed shut, rattling the frame, Eva was left wondering if she’d made a mistake in bringing him along.

Sitting on the edge of the bed with a muttered, “Blowhard,” she stared at the floor as her heart continued to race. Fragments of their argument replayed in her mind, tangling with doubt. It was painfully clear that she’d pledged her allegiance to an organisation whose ideals would undoubtedly continue to clash with her own moral compass.

And yet… nobody could offer her what they could, and nowhere else felt as right.

“Fuck it,” she muttered, pushing to her feet with a sigh. “I need a stiff drink.”

After splashing her face with cool water in the bathroom, she left the room and returned to the bar, ordering the largest bottle of moonshine they had.

Settling on a wooden stool in the far corner, she took a long swig, grimacing as it burned her throat. The place reeked of stale tobacco and neat liquor, adding to the rundown, depressive appearance. In the corner, a barely functioning jukebox played a Frank Sinatra track, though it was barely audible over the bickering of two punters.

Half an hour later, her attempt to drink away the anger was interrupted when a woman in a long red coat and cap stormed in. Eva watched as the stranger made for the bar, gesturing animatedly as she complained to the bartender.

When she spun around, Eva dropped her gaze to the bottle. Her hopes of going unnoticed were destroyed when the red coat came into her peripheral vision at the edge of the table.

For fuck’s sake.

“I’m sorry for disturbing you, Miss,” the woman began, pressing her palms to the table as she leaned in, “but do you support the news?”

Oh great, another nutter obsessed with the news.

“Yes, and I took a paper earlier. I don’t need another,” Eva said, forcing a polite smile as her grip tightened around the bottle.

When the woman sat opposite her, crossing one leg over the other, Eva realised her peaceful drink was over.

“I’m glad to hear that,” the woman said, adjusting her cap. “See, the mayor of this place is threatening to throw free speech in the dumpster. It’s to cover up every dirty little thing going on in this city.”

“Oh, really?” Eva arched a brow, feigning interest in the woman’s concerns. “That’s not right.”

I really couldn’t care less.

“Exactly!” the woman exclaimed, slapping the table. “I’m glad someone else around here has their head screwed on.” She turned and mimed a drink, getting a nod of acknowledgment from the bartender. When she turned back, she added, “Name’s Piper.”

“Eva.”

“Eva,” Piper repeated, running her eyes down her uniform. “Never seen you around here before, but that skin suit says you came from that fortress in the sky.”

After taking a swig of her drink, Eva gave her a slow nod. “I’m just passing through—got some business with your local detective.”

“Oh, Nicky! He’s the finest sleuth in the Commonwealth, and one of my best friends.” Piper smiled fondly as the bartender set a pint of cloudy beer before her. “And, he’s the only synth I’ve met who doesn’t have a screw loose.”

“Yeah, he seems alright.”

“You know, I don’t just read the news, I write it,” Piper said, leaning in with a slight smirk. “If you want, I can run a column about whoever you’re looking for. All I ask for in return is an interview about this ‘Brotherhood of Steel’ you’re with. Folks are wondering why you’re in town, and it’d be good to put the theories to bed.”

“That won’t be necessary, but thank you.” Eva gulped down the last of her drink and set the bottle down with a heavy thud. “Your paper girl helped me out earlier, by the way. She’s a credit to your business.”

“That’s my sister, Nat. The paper’s our pride and joy,” Piper replied with a proud smile before necking her drink down and pointing to the empty bottle. “Want another?”

“Go on, then. It’d be rude not to.”

A few drinks later, the duo were laughing like long-lost best friends. The tension and the stress of the day quickly melted away as they traded stories and jokes, largely at the expense of others.

“…And there’s that Myrna woman in the corner. She’s soooooo paranoid about synths,” Piper slurred, slightly swaying on her stool. “It’s almost laughable.”

“Maybe she is one,” Eva added, causing the pair to snort with laughter as they lightly punched one another’s shoulders.

As the punters cleared out, Piper pulled Eva into a crushing hug. “I like you, Blue,” she murmured into her shoulder. “You’re class.”

“Blue?” Eva asked, trying to focus her thoughts through the slight haze her fourth drink had inflicted. “I’m not… I’m not blue.”

“You’re from one of those vaults!” Piper squealed, squeezing tighter. “They always wear those blue suit things. Ugh, those things look sooooo much worse than what you’ve got on now!”

Eva chuckled as she broke free from the hug. “I like you, Pipes. Tell you what, I’ll make sure to swing by once I’m next visiting.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Piper said, tapping her twice on the head. “You look after yourself, soldier girl.”

“You too.”

Once Piper had left, Eva stumbled towards the hotel area. As she approached her door, she saw Danse leaning against the wall between their rooms, wearing an expression that was unreadable beneath the flickering light.

“You—” she drawled, jabbing a finger in his direction as she fumbled with the lock. “Won’t ruin it.”

When the lock clicked into place, she glowered at him once more before heading inside. Leaning against the door, she kicked off her boots and listened closely as Danse’s door closed with a firm bang. With a huff, she stumbled towards the bed and fell backwards onto it, still clad head to toe in her uniform.

The moment she closed her eyes, thoughts flooded her mind about what would greet her in the next twenty-four hours. Would it bring her answers, or more misery?

And as much as she didn’t care to have a Paladin sulking at her heels, she couldn’t stomach the idea of facing someone like Kellogg without him.

With a groan, she pressed her palms to her eyes.

That bloody man.

Chapter Text

A fresh flight suit, a box of gumdrops, and a can of cool water did wonders for the slight headache Eva was nursing the following morning. After handing her key back to the bartender she’d come to know as Vadim, she moved to stand before the Paladin waiting in full power armour by the exit.

“It’d be best for both of us if you went back to the Prydwen,” Eva said, avoiding making eye contact with him. “I’ll carry on alone from here.”

Danse let out a sharp huff and muttered, “More like you’ll take that synth with you.”

Eva cupped an ear. “What was that, Paladin? As I told your colleague, my ears are a bit defunct in my old age.”

Danse shifted on the spot, eyes sweeping the room. “I’m not letting you travel there alone, given you have no idea what you’re walking into. A mercenary will have all manner of things at their disposal.”

Eva stared at him for a moment, then gave him a firm, “Fine,” and stormed out of the bar. As she walked briskly down the alley, she heard him waffling about her need for power armour.

“I don’t need any,” she called back, nodding politely to the meat vendor as she passed. “This time, my choice in armour is negotiable. What I’ve got on now is perfectly adequate.”

As they cut between the buildings of downtown Boston in silence, she felt guilty for the things she’d said in the heat of the moment, but still loathed the way he’d acted.

I shouldn’t feel guilty for doing what’s best for my family.

They reached the grey-and-orange ruins of Fort Hagen in the late afternoon, fighting off a pack of feral dogs that came charging at them from down the side of a house. “This is the place,” she muttered, checking her Pip-Boy’s map. When she climbed a short flight of stone steps and saw the stacks of concrete blocks and sandbags blocking the main entrance, she tilted her head back and let out a loud groan. “Why isn’t anything simple?”

“These fortifications were made from the exterior,” Danse mused at her side as he studied the barricade. “Whoever made them took another route in. We should check the rear and the roof for viable entry points.”

Smart. Maybe it was a good job you came along, after all.

The pair skirted around the perimeter, weapons at the ready as if they were expecting to be ambushed at any given moment. At the rear, Eva crept up a wooden slope, eyes going wide as a turret mounted to the roof turned to her and began to spin up.

Danse quickly yanked her back by her arm, muttering under his breath as he advanced onto the roof, dodging the laser fire and returning well-timed shots. Once he’d destroyed every turret in the immediate vicinity, he called down to her. “Coast is clear. You can come up now.”

Kicking aside some busted casing, she moved to his side, staring down at a metal hatch. “Reckon this is our way in?”

Danse opened the hatch a fraction and peered in. “Given it hasn’t been locked from the outside and was heavily defended, it’s likely the mercenary entered through here.” He met her gaze with a serious but unreadable expression. “Before we proceed, I want to make one thing clear: that back there is why I insist that you utilise the armour the Brotherhood have granted you. You’re going in there to get your son, but if you keep this up, the only thing you’re going to get is killed.”

When Eva ignored him and advanced towards the hatch, he stepped in front of her. Feeling unsettled by his expectant gaze, she finally dropped her defensive act with a resigned, “Fine. I’m sorry for being reckless.”

Danse pursed his lips. “I’m trying to be a voice of reason, but decisions like that make it difficult. If you’d have moved further up that ramp and been seriously injured—or worse—there’d have been no going back, and it might have cost you your only lead. With your history, I’d have expected more tact.”

“I know.” She dropped her gaze to the floor, rubbing the sole of her boot back and forth across the metal roofing. “I’m not thinking clearly today.”

“Well, take a moment to collect yourself. We’ll enter when you’re ready.” He leaned against a wall beside a sealed security door. “We do not know who or what awaits us inside, which means there cannot be any mistakes. It is not just yourself you’re putting at risk.”

With a nod, Eva circled the roof a few times, watching a small flock of birds nestle on an adjacent rooftop. After a few minutes, she stopped in front of him with a confident, “I’m ready.”

Danse pushed away from the wall and crouched by the hatch before pulling both doors open. “There’s a significant drop that could result in you getting a leg injury. I’ll drop in and assess the area, then assist you in entering. Understood?”

“Understood.”

He checked his rifle and dropped into the top floor with a heavy thud. No sooner had he straightened than a synthetic voice called out, “Engaging hostile life form,” sending a blue bolt whizzing past his armour.

“Safeties off, we’ve got company!” Danse yelled, opening fire on the two synths that were closing in. Once they were taken care of, he returned to the hatch and looked up. With his arms raised, he said, “Drop down. You won’t fall.”

Eva placed some trust in the man she’d irritated for over twenty-four hours. When she dropped in, she winced at how his metal-clad hands dug into her waist. “Thanks,” she said, drawing her pistol and checking it over. “Ready when you are.”

Danse ran his eyes over her choice of gun, clearly unimpressed by it. “Stay behind me, and provide cover where necessary. There’ll be plenty of resistance ahead.”

“Roger that.”

They moved floor to floor, cutting through synths, turrets and booby-traps until they halted in front of a locked metal security door. Before either of them could form a plan, the voice she had dreaded crackled through the building’s speakers.

“And there she is—the most resilient woman in the Commonwealth.” A smug, almost mocking scoff followed. “Look, you’re pissed off. I get it, I do. But, whatever you hope to accomplish in here? It’s not going to go your way.”

Eva glared at the speaker and gave the door a swift kick. “Open this fucking gate, Kellogg! Face me!”

Kellogg let out a low chuckle. “You’ve got guts and determination. That’s… admirable.”

Eva threw her arms wide and took a few steps back as if he could see her. “I’ve gotten this far. Now, quit hiding like a pathetic coward and open up!”

“It’s not too late to stop, turn around, and leave,” he replied coolly. “You have that option. Not a lot of people can say that.”

“I’d sooner blow this door off its hinges than walk away empty-handed,” she snapped. “I’m not leaving here without my son, and I’m sick of repeating myself. Open this bloody gate!”

“Fine.” The single word was spoken with pure amusement. “My synths will stand down. Let’s talk.”

The speakers cut off and the door’s latch released with a loud click. They moved down a short hallway and into a dim room, immediately training their weapons on two dormant synths. Before they could advance further, a figure stepped into view, hands held in the air.

Eva froze and gasped out, “Dear God.”

He was just as bald, scarred and menacing as she remembered. For a moment, she was back behind the pane of glass, watching this monster destroy her family.

Her lip twitched as her expression contorted into one of anger. “It was you,” she said through clenched teeth. “Give me my son. Now.”

Kellogg grinned, keeping his hands held high. “Straight to the chase, eh? I like it. Well, if it’s a happy little reunion you’re looking for, you’re going to be bitterly disappointed. He’s not here.”

“What?” Eva shook her head, quickly letting the anger return. “Then where the fuck is he?!”

“Far away from this place.” Kellogg shrugged, and though he lowered his hands, he made no move to use the revolver holstered at his hip. “Lady, I’m just a puppet, like you. My stage is a little… bigger, that’s all. Shaun’s a good kid—a little older than you expected, but he’s doing great. He’s with the people pulling the strings now.”

“What do you mean by that? Who’s pulling the strings?” The barrel of her pistol shook as she pleaded. “Who has my boy, Kellogg?”

Kellogg looked to the floor with a faint smile. “Look, I can’t tell you. All I can say is he’s in a good place.”

“You murdering, kidnapping psychopath!” she cried, sending spittle flying from her lips. “You took my husband from me, and now you can’t even spare me the decency of telling me where my son is!” Her finger tightened on the trigger as tears stung the edges of her eyes. “Fucking tell me, Kellogg!”

“Hell hath no fury like a desperate mother,” Kellogg drawled, accompanying it with a sadistic grin. “Ah, I remember it well. You three, snug in your little pods like frozen TV dinners.” He began to pace, keeping his eyes fixed on hers. “It could’ve been so much easier, had your husband complied. He’d still be here if not for that—grovelling by your side instead of begging for his life.”

“He did NOT beg!” Eva shouted, stepping towards him as her breath caught in her throat. “My family deserved so much more, but you—” She sucked in a shaky breath. “—You stole that from us.”

“Your son is gone, woman,” Kellogg said, tipping his head back as if he were bored. “Your incessant begging and whining won’t bring back your lover boy, nor yo—”

One moment he was standing. The next, he was on the floor.

She barely registered Danse gunning down the remaining synths as she stared at the empty space where the mercenary had once been. Her eyes fell to the floor, watching a pool of deep crimson spread out from beneath Kellogg’s body.

“I… I killed him,” she whispered, stepping closer and staring into his lifeless eyes. “I… shot him.” She dropped to her knees, a choked sound leaving her lips. The dam burst as she buried her head in her hands. “It’s all my fault. Now I’m never getting our boy back, and—” Her shoulders shook as she wailed into her hands. “Oh God, it’s all my fault!”

She sobbed until no more tears came. When she looked up, red faced and sniffling, her eyes met those of the Paladin crouched on the other side of the corpse.

“What have I done?” she asked, roughly raking her fingers through her hair. “I should have taken him captive and forced him to talk.”

“You haven’t done anything.” Danse’s gaze lingered on Kellogg’s face. “Believe me, he would never have talked. Mercenaries enjoy the power they hold over their victims.” He rose and took a step back. “That man would’ve taken it to the grave with no regrets.”

Eva let out a long, grounding breath and pushed herself to her feet. “I don’t even know where to go from here.”

“It’d be wise to search the area for anything that might aid your search,” Danse suggested, scanning the room and nodding towards a terminal. “That might contain valuable intel. I’ll start searching the desks.”

“Good shout.” Eva pushed a chair aside and began tapping away at the terminal. She filtered by the word ‘Shaun’ and clicked into an access log.

ACCESS: Local.
LOGIN: Kellogg.
NOTES: The boy, Shaun, successfully delivered back to the Institute, payment received. New orders to track down renegade, gathered reinforcements, cleared out and secured Fort Hagen. We move out soon.

Her stomach dropped. She gripped the desk hard enough for her fingertips to turn white, fighting the urge to be sick.

“They have my son,” she whispered, dropping her chin to her chest. “My boy’s gone.”

Danse moved to her side and read the text. He was silent for a moment, then began, “Eva, it’ll be—”

“No, it won’t be all right, so don’t even say it!” she snapped, slamming her fists against the desk. “He’s… he’s gone! My son is gone, and who knows what they’ve done to—”

Or if he’s even alive.

Without warning, she stalked over to Kellogg’s corpse and began stamping on his head, screaming, “Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you!” until she was panting, resting her hands against her knees. When she finally straightened, she spat on him with a pained, “I hope you rot in hell.”

“Evangelina!” Danse thundered behind her as she gave his body a hard kick. He lunged forwards to grab her arms, narrowly missing as she flailed.

Spinning around to face him, she jabbed a finger in his direction. “Don’t you dare call me by my full name. You’re not my mother.”

Danse turned his palms to her, eyes flicking between her and the mess. “Please calm down. I know this is a lot, but this”—he gestured to Kellogg’s body—“won’t help in any shape or form.”

She dropped her gaze to the floor and focused on her breathing. Once she’d collected herself, she looked back at Kellogg, though her eyes were drawn to something poking out of the mutilated mess. Dropping to one knee, she leaned in closer. “Danse, there’s something inside his head.”

Danse’s brows knit together in confusion. “An implant, perhaps?”

“I don’t know.” Eva poked around in the gore to expose more, then pulled a combat knife and tissues from her pack and pried the device free. “It’s some kind of device,” she murmured, blotting it and turning it between her fingers. “I’m going to keep this. Perhaps someone will know what it does—or, did.”

Danse offered her a hand. “I would advise consulting the detective again. If he’s unfamiliar with the technology, perhaps he’ll have a contact who understands it.”

And there it was; the olive branch to patch the crack in their relationship.

When she was back on her feet, she wrapped the device in the tissue and tucked it away inside her bag. “Yeah, he’ll be my next stop. I’m too tired to head back to the city today, though.” She drew in a steadying breath and looked to the exit. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Right behind you.”

The cool late-afternoon air stung her bloodshot eyes as they left through the roof’s security door. Eva sat cross-legged on the edge of the roof and pulled a cigarette from her pack, allowing a small smile to crack her features as Danse crouched beside her.

For a moment, she watched the smoke curl up into the air. “I hope I’m not chasing ghosts,” she murmured. “But regardless, they will pay, and I swear it on Nate’s grave. I will hunt down each and every one of those Institute bastards and make them regret ever stepping foot inside our vault.”

“Once we’re back aboard the Prydwen we’ll work on an action plan,” Danse said, watching a ghoul mill about inside a partially collapsed house. When he turned to her, his expression softened. “Eva, I feel like I owe you an apology. While my motives and arguments still stand regarding the detective, I realise I was too quick to judge the severity of your situation. After seeing that back there, I’ve started to realise this isn’t so clearcut, and perhaps I acted unfairly.”

“S’alright,” she muttered around the cigarette jutting out of her mouth. “Without causing offence, I couldn’t care less for the opinions of others. I know I’ll be walking this road alone, which means I know what to expect along the way.”

“You don’t have to do it alone. You have a full network of support, and closing yourself off will only impact your health.” He plucked the cigarette from between her lips and flicked it to the road below. “As will those, in the long run.”

“I’m sorry for yesterday,” Eva said quietly, picking at the seam of her flight suit. “I didn’t really mean most of what I said about not caring—I just wanted someone else to feel pain, too.” Eva met his gaze and offered a small, genuine smile. “Thank you for being the bigger person and coming with me today. I don’t think I would’ve coped in there alone.”

“Thanks aren’t necessary,” Danse replied, looking up at the sky. “While I might not fully understand what you’re going through, I will attempt to be there to support you when you require it.”

“Thanks, Paladin,” she said, fastening her pack. “Fancy heading back to base?”

Danse gave her a single nod. “I think that’s a solid plan, Initiate.”