Chapter Text
Be not afraid of greatness. Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and others have greatness thrust upon them.
She wasn’t famous, a household name, or even the hero Billy had once described her as, she was simply the product of her upbringing; just like everyone else around her. At first, she was just a scared little girl stuck in an impossible situation, her only options were to comply or fight her way out, and she couldn’t do the latter because she was too weak, too small then. So she stayed, did as she was told and eventually became the person everyone else wanted her to be.
World leaders and their governments were too busy fighting each other to pay attention to the wars going on in their own backyards, that was where she, and people like her, came in - cleaning up the messes they didn’t want the public to know about, it would cause too much panic was often the excuse. But this was why people like her existed in the first place, to contain the problem so people more important than herself could concentrate on bigger things — like blowing each other up.
If anything, she liked to think she was fighting her own battle against the world, whilst they were trying to disrupt each other’s lives, she was secretly trying to keep the peace. Capturing and punishing the guilty whilst protecting and saving the innocent, it sure made her sound like a hero but it was never as black and white as that, never that straightforward. Right or wrong, good or evil, it didn’t matter, she just did what she was told.
There was no love in her childhood, no hugs or no kisses on the forehead when you got hurt, you simply had to brush yourself off and carry on, and the only tears that were shed were at night when the other children would remember the life they once had. She never really had that problem, she was a soldier, she knew she wasn’t a child to be coddled, and so she was tough, a loner but not exactly lonely. Everywhere she looked people were lying to each other, plotting against each other - ready to stab each other in the back at a moment’s notice - and whilst the others were almost begging to be part of a team, she preferred to work alone. She refused to let herself be disappointed when the inevitable happened, she wasn’t going to be betrayed and left in a ditch to choke on her own blood, so from a young age she made a promise; the only person I can trust is myself.
To live a life not feeling fear or love…or any emotion really, sure it sounded good, to be cold, numb almost to the point of being indestructible, but it wasn’t something she wished upon anybody. It wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, and although she knew how to fake emotions, she never really felt them, and certainly didn't understand them. She recognised them certainly, the subtle difference between tears of sadness and those of joy. The flicker or tightening of eyelids that were the difference between surprise and anger, she recognised them all; even the ones people tried to hide.
She was taught to win, to lie, and recognise the lies in other people, and, like she did everything, she did it with absolute perfection. Whether it was something she inherited from her parents or the insecurities she had about her height that drove her to strive for perfection she would never know, but she told herself one thing; failure is not an option. She would always be the best, and she was, whether in training or out in the field, a battle of wits or a battle of weapons, it didn’t matter, she always outsmarted, outmanoeuvred, and outwitted her opponent. She got every commendation and special assignment available, and there was a moment in her life when she was actually proud of that.
Well, a part of her anyway.
Pretending to be someone different all the time, perfecting so many personalities, and not knowing who she was really was, had eventually taken its toll and every now and then voices leaked inside her head - each with their own opinion, advice, and most of them berating her for her actions. It often took her entire chem stash to lull them and give her some sense of normalcy; even if she didn’t know what that was.
If she were able to, she’d go back and kill her commanding officers herself, with the skills they’d given her. It was their fault she was in this situation in the first place but if her surroundings, and the newly ‘acquired’ Pip-Boy on her wrist, were anything to go by, she would never get that chance. That world was over two-hundred years behind her.
She’d let that reality sink in later, she had to find Shaun. It was her mission now, not the original one given to her by some government official, but it had led to her own quest nonetheless. The kidnapping of that baby was the only reason she stepped out of the Vault in the first place, rather than living in solitary amongst the corpses of neighbours she never even liked.
As soon as the door to her pod opened, and she stepped out, the smell was the first thing to hit her, it was pungent, and burnt her nose as she breathed. Death and decay filled the air. It was a smell that was familiar but after being stuck in suburbia for so long, she’d forgotten how gut-wrenching it could be. Being the ‘perfect housewife’ had turned her soft.
She didn’t even bother to look inside the pod across from hers, the one that held her husband. An eidetic memory was a curse and a blessing at the same time. The memory played in her mind like an old film, the moment she first started to wake up, watching as a small group of people lifted the door to Nathaniel’s pod — the sound of the gunshot echoing around the room. She would never shed a tear over him, their marriage was simply a ring on her finger and a piece of paper.
Sanctuary Hills was a cesspit of crime masquerading as the quintessential suburban village, and Nathaniel was their almighty leader and self-proclaimed king. But he wasn’t a king, he was just a businessman — with his fingers in all sorts of questionable pies. Nathaniel was forty years her senior, and whilst most people saw him as an old man, she saw him as a dog that needed to be put down. He was a cruel, well-connected, gang leader that had over half of Boston under his thumb, and the idea was to make him think she was too. Four days and a plane journey across the Atlantic was all the time she had to study up on him, and luckily for her, Nathaniel was a quick read, easy to figure out. By the time her feet touched the tarmac of Boston Airport she knew what he liked, what made him tick, and she knew exactly how to make him fall in love with her. She never loved the old man, she felt no pity at his death because it was his fault Shaun had been kidnapped. Twice.
That representative from Vault-Tec had already been by a few days before, and whilst she was against the idea of being in a confined space with a man she loathed, Nathaniel was all for it, and their names were quickly added to the register. She felt an uneasy twist in her stomach when Nathaniel was suddenly whispering in the man’s ear, bribing or threatening him; possibly both. She never liked any of the smiles he gave her; they were always hiding something.
She had done as much research on the Vault as time had permitted. If everything went perfectly, and there was no outside intervention, human or otherwise, the odds of the Vault failing were one point eight million to one. The Vault, if properly maintained, had an expectancy of ninety-two point five years. Other than that, Vault-Tec didn’t have much else to say, especially about themselves; that was her first clue. Everything seemed too simple, too perfect. Where was the catch, the conditions that had to be met? She hacked into a few databases, breaking a law or two in the process, and found some schematics, real information on a few of its employees, and a shit ton of cover-ups, the kind where big companies threw money at people to keep certain information out of the public record. But there was a record of everything that ever happened, the key was just finding it.
Nathaniel’s secret whispering still played on her mind, never taking precedence over her initial mission, because she wouldn’t let it, and he’d been acting off ever since - granted he was always a little unhinged but it was different this time - and it was definitely unsettling. Like pieces of a puzzle, everything clicked into place when he brought that kid home.
Nathaniel held the boy out for her to hold like he was a gift, a gift for her. The cold bastard had sent his number two, Able, to assassinate a rival gang lord. He shot the man in the back, shot his wife in the head and kidnapped their son. Nathaniel would never admit the truth to her knowingly of course — but she was better with a terminal than he gave her credit for — he simply said that because they couldn’t have a child of their own (she had lied) then he ‘found’ a baby who needed looking after.
“The house is not ready for a baby, Nate,” she spoke calmly. The hand that wasn’t holding on to Shaun was digging its fingernails into her own flesh to stop her from punching him in the face.
Two seconds later, a hoard of men rushed by, each carrying something into their spare room, removing its original furniture on the way out the house. Within ten minutes their spare room had been changed into a bedroom for the child. She knew they’d stolen everything from the house that child actually belonged in.
Whatever sliver of humanity he had left was gone now, he was just pure evil, and it didn’t matter that he believed he had done it for her, she didn’t. She had to do something. She couldn’t let an innocent get in the middle of this, especially a baby. Brought up by a drug lord? Overtaking his empire when he proved himself? How would he ‘prove himself’ to Nathaniel? She could not sit back and watch a child become that, become like him. In a split second, she had reached a decision of her own.
Nathaniel didn’t matter, the people of Sanctuary Hills and their shitty lives didn’t matter. Not even the mission mattered anymore. The only thing that did was saving that baby’s life. She spent the afternoon planning the entire thing, Shaun constantly in her sights, her 10mm silencer was buried somewhere just behind the garden and that night she was going to dig it up. There were bags packed and stashed away, along with a spare set of keys Nathaniel didn’t know she had. He loved her and more importantly he trusted her.
Idiot.
Of all people, Nathaniel should have known he couldn’t trust people, and he definitely couldn’t trust her. But nothing she had planned ended up happening, that afternoon the sirens went off, and the War had finally disrupted her life; in the biggest way possible.
She kicked herself when Nathaniel reached Shaun before she could and they ran to the Vault. He was an old man, and he wasn’t even in the room, he wasn’t supposed to be able to move faster than her. If he hadn’t been holding Shaun she would have told the guard to shoot him, but it didn’t matter, they’d be underground; Nathaniel would be powerless and he’d be under constant watch...They’d both be. If Nathaniel was going to have to be on his best behaviour then so was she.
But Shaun would be safe.
She found relief in Nathaniel’s death, a long-ago given mission was essentially completed the moment his brain sprayed out against the back of his pod but her mission to save Shaun had just complicated tenfold. Nathaniel had taken him for her, why had these strangers taken him?
And why had that bald man, whoever he was, called her the back-up? If the kid was so special, and they needed him for something then they were shit out of luck thinking she was the ‘back-up’ because they were of no relation at all, but then again, they probably didn’t know that.
Some people just don’t understand how important a little research is.
* * * *
This above all; to thine own self be true.
Just lie through your teeth to everyone else. He wasn’t even all that true to himself, he simply just accepted who he was; a liar. And a fantastic one at that.
He wasn’t really sure where it came from, it was something he’d always been able to do. The parents were the straightest arrows in the quiver so it didn’t come from them, probably came from a distant relation - maybe someone from before the War. Man, that would be cool.
He was the class clown, the joker, the guy to make you squirt milk out of your nose, but the wind made a sudden change when he was a young man, the laughter had all but died and he became even more rebellious, to the point of being violent, and then going so far over that point he couldn’t even see it anymore. He fell in with a bad crowd, then a badder crowd and eventually joined a gang; not a massive one but certainly big enough to attract attention and invoke a lot of fear.
UP Deathclaws they called themselves, he was older by the time they came along, not ancient but certainly old enough to know better. The ‘Claws had one mission; to drive synths back into the arms of their masters. But eventually, even that mission was lost when it just became about causing havoc and he turned his back on them when he realised they’d gone too far - they’d strayed from their path.
That had led to a few things, that led to another few things but it was hardly the time to go down that road, especially considering his location.
Curiosity killed the cat, people would often warn him, but it simply went in one ear and out the other, besides the prospect of certain death only made his blood run faster and the rush all that more enjoyable. Was it coincidence or fate? Carrington had told him the story of Vault 111 only last week and ever since then he could think of little else. The Institute was just a scary story back in the day, something you spoke about around a campfire to scare the pants off each other. Then he found the Railroad, or more accurately, the Railroad found him.
If someone had asked him when he was younger what he wanted to be, he probably would have said mayor…or a super mutant. Because that’s the sort of shitty sense of humour he had. But of all the things he dreamt of, being a spy for a top-secret organisation that’s sole purpose was to save synths was not anywhere on the list.
After the ‘incident’ with the remaining Deathclaws, the Railroad found him a few weeks later - apparently, the ‘Claws were at the top of the Railroad’s enemy list (right underneath the Institute of course - which was written in big red capital letters and underlined; repeatedly.) He thought they tracked him down to kill him at first because of his own involvement with the gang but evidently, they didn’t know that little piece of information. And he certainly wasn’t going to tell them. They only cared that he had killed them all.
Standing around waiting for nothing often caused him to daydream, or worse caused the voices to start, but every mechanical movement and vibration under his feet brought him back to the present and silenced his mind.
During his years of travelling he’d come across a lot of Vaults, most of them inaccessible or had people living in them, and, man, those vaulties were real picky about who they let in. Vault 81 had unknowingly let him in a few times because he’d gotten very good at blending into the background and his tongue had gotten him out of a few sticky situations over the years, plus the vault suit he stole came in real handy.
But curiosity had eventually got the best of him and he made the long trek north to see Vault 111 for himself. The story goes, as Carrington tells it, an agent who had been tracking Kellogg, a mercenary known to work for the Institute, followed him all the way to the Vault and watched from a distance as the mercenary and his gang of thugs broke in. If the agent had been quick enough they’d have followed them inside, but no, they had to sit back and watch as Kellogg and his gang tore back out of there, something smuggled underneath a blanket. He could curse the agent but in truth, he wondered if he wouldn’t have done the same. Back then they still didn’t know much about the Institute.
He’d barely reached the top of the hill before he felt it, the ground shift under his feet. At first, he thought he stood on a landmine but considering he didn’t blow up when he took a step forward, he figured not.
He headed for the control room, if it was functioning then maybe there was a chance the Vault wasn’t as inactive as everyone thought. None of the emergency panels were working but the small monitor on the table flickered with static, a few lucky smacks to the side and the screen came to life. Dozens of tiny images filled the screen and he was quick to realise that it was a live feed, which could only mean one thing; the Vault was functioning. Pressing a few buttons, and thinking happy thoughts, he switched between each camera. There was a slight blur to each camera but he could see enough but there were no signs of life, save the radroach or two.
He was close to giving up, disappointed he got his hopes up for nothing and leant forward to turn the screen off when he saw it. In the corner of camera sixty-three, something moved. Using the eidetic memory he often cursed, he quickly flicked back to a camera with a better angle.
He watched as someone stepped out of the pods that were everywhere and at first, he thought it was a kid, the blur on the camera wasn’t helping and the woman was rather on the short side. He flicked between cameras and watched her as she moved, mostly to make sure she made it out safely - not that he could do a damn thing if she did get in trouble. She stayed low, close to the walls like an expert, and he knew he was looking at a different breed of woman the moment he watched her kill a radroach with one punch.
She was certainly handling the situation well, though not as well as she handled a gun. She one shot every radroach she came across, evidently, a lot of them were out of camera range; it was either that or she was just shooting the walls. But he doubted the latter was true.
Was it his imagination or was she covered in ice? She seemed to be shivering a lot, although that could have just been the crappy reception of the monitor on which he was watching. He supposed he shouldn’t complain really, after two hundred years of neglect he was lucky to get this much.
Confident that she could handle herself just fine he set about making a plan, of course, he wanted to stay and watch but he wanted to do it at a distance longer than the hundred yards he sat away from the entrance currently. She was probably witnessing the Commonwealth for the first time, most vaulties were born in them and knew nothing about the world above ground; it was something he couldn’t miss.
Fate was definitely on his side when he found a brown suit in one of the crates, that just happened to become unlocked. He quickly put it on and made for the hills to live amongst the trees, she’d be too busy looking at the destruction around her to look at the trees behind her.
He’d never admit the rush he got from doing it, being hidden in plain view. Who needs chems when you get to do this for a living? Seriously, if everyone just became a spy then the consumption of chems would decrease dramatically, he’d be doing the Commonwealth a favour really. He could set up his own business, maybe knock out a few walls in HQ so he could build himself an office. He’d need an assistant of course, when business started to boom and they needed to be able to use a gun. This woman would be perfect...maybe.
A violent hiss of air shattered the silence and he inhaled sharply. He held his breath as the vault opened and exhaled in surprise when long black hair and a blue vault suit came into view. Most vaulties fell to their knees when they saw the Commonwealth for the first time but not this one, legs sturdy, head poised and gun raised…Gun raised? That was a new one. He’d seen her use it of course, but no one ever left a vault ready to face action at the blink of an eye.
She wasn’t just a woman, she was a woman, yeah a little disadvantaged in the height department but she made up for it with a fantastic figure, curves in all the right places. Even from this distance, he could see enough, those vault suits really were a blessing sometimes.
The security camera feed was definitely a piece of shit because here she was in technicolour, not in hazy black and white. She was definitely covered in ice because he could see some of it melting under the blistering heat. What the hell happened down there?
She turned and the light hit her perfectly, he berated himself for not bringing binoculars but decided a perfect silhouette of her face, and the odd green glint that nearly blinded him was enough for now.
He watched as she ran to the edge, rather than taking the dusty path down, and took a leap that made even his gut wrench, she tucked her knees in and rolled on to the flat ground before using the momentum to graciously stand on her feet. Ten out of ten. He watched as she ran out of sight. He etched an ‘ally’ sign into the tree before taking the much safer route down towards Sanctuary in the hopes of tracking her down.
Time for a little recon.