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sugar-soda · 5 months ago

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Kids Shouldn't be Here: Paladin Danse

Fallout 4 Platonic Companions x Child! Sole

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence, Child in dangerous situations

A/N: This is NOT romantic at all! This is all platonic relationships that explore how the Fallout 4 companions and game would change if the Sole Survivor was a young child. Any romantic suggestions or reblogs will be blocked.

Masterlist

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Combat was no place for a child.

That's why the Brotherhood of Steel rarely let squires out on the field. Even reconnaissance missions could go quickly sideways if hostiles are spotted. So children were kept on base for their safety. On the rare occasions they are allowed outside, it was often in groups and they were to be escorted by at least an equal number of knights. In the event they are attacked, they were given strict instructions to retreat or find cover if retreat was impossible.

Despite this, training for all brotherhood squires started very young. At age 7, basic defense maneuvers were taught and simple training regimens would be implemented into a squire’s daily schedule, increasing in difficulty as they aged. By starting at a early age, they would be fully prepared for any situation when they were allowed to go off base.

The Brotherhood took great pride in their defense of their young members, which led to many adults feeling safe enough to have a few little ones themselves, if they are able.

Not everyone did, of course. Some were just unable to reproduce, others had no desire for children, and the rest felt like it was unfair to have a kid if they were constantly out in the field, finding the likelihood of their death way too high.

____________________________________________________________

Paladin Danse, for one, just never had the thought of having his own kids. He was too busy with his duties as a Paladin and never desired to cultivate a relationship, much less one that would lead to fatherhood. So, the idea simply never crossed his mind.

Now, he didn't hate children. He just never had much of a chance to interact with them. On a few occasions he had assisted with class training and demonstrations, but those were few and far between. He was also never assigned to escort any groups of them as a knight, which he is thankful for. The children's lack of discipline and excitement for potential danger would likely drive him up the wall, and he couldn't scold a kid for having fun. At least when helping with a class, their teacher would be there to reign their youthful energy into something productive.

Right now, the Paladin could use some of that energy. The attacking ghouls seemed never ending.

Ever since they first stepped into the Commonwealth, Recon Squad Gladius had taken loss after loss. Knight Brach, Knight Worwick, Knight-Sergeant Dawes, all dead to this god forsaken place.

Now they lost Knight Keane.

Danse would never admit it, but he believed that there was a high chance of all of them dying. With Knight Keane dead and Knight Rhys injured, it left only him to fight off the ghouls attacking the Cambridge Police Station. Scribe Haylen was assisting the best she could, but was currently using one hand to shoot, and the other to put pressure on Knight Rhys’s injury, so her aim was inaccurate at best.

Danse prided himself on his skills in combat, but his lack of sleep and pounding headache had left his own aim absolutely abysmal. He had seen civilian children with better aim, he swore.

One ghoul got much too close to him. If he wasn’t in his power armor, he would have been cut by its long, infected, clawed nails. Danse blocked the thrashing feral with his arm and shoved back, knocking it off its feet long enough to pull the trigger. God, how many of these things were there?

“DUCK AND COVER!”

A young voice screamed out from…above? The situation only was made more chaotic by the explosion of a molotov cocktail thrown over the defensive wall. Multiple of the ghouls fell to the fire, dead on impact as more mindlessly ran through the flames. Two additional lasers shot past him, and a gunshot cracked in his ears. Danse quickly recovered and fired at the closest feral. He could ask questions later, right now he had to insure the survival of what was left of his squad. Even if that meant accepting backup from unknown forces.

“Civilians in the area! Check your fire!”

The fire had considerably weakened the attacking ghouls. Now, they were falling in one or two shots. The final feral threw itself at Danse, only for a bullet to rip through its neck before making contact.

Danse kept his guard up and scanned the perimeter for additional threats. Nothing. No more ghouls at the moment. Excellent. He turned to look at where the additional shots came from and assessed if they could be threats.

A man and a Mr. Handy, and if the shouted warning, the explosion, and the sound of bullets ringing in his ears was any indication, there was an additional person, though he assumed they weren’t as young as their voice sounded like. His guess was a sniper of some sort, which is how they were able to throw the cocktail so far. He wasn’t sure where they were shooting from, but there were enough structurally sound buildings around that any of them could have had a fire escape that could be climbed.

The Mr. Handy looked standard enough. Nothing to indicate it was different from its more violent counterparts, except maybe a cleaner finish. It was clearly well taken care of. Maybe that’s why it didn’t appear hostile toward anyone, now that the ghouls were cleared. In the event it did turn violent, Danse was confident he could take it.

The man may be a more difficult threat. He seemed well-built and he appeared unphased by the ghoul attack, holding himself similar to Danse wished more knights would. Stern, straight backed, and collected while holding his laser musket at the ready. This man clearly had training in combat. Still, Danse was sure his power armor gave him more than enough of an advantage should the need arise. He opened his mouth to thank the man, but was cut off by him looking up and yelling.

“Sunny! Are you alright?”

“Yes, Mr. Preston, I’m fine! They didn’t even get close to the fire escape.”

The clattering of a rusted, metal ladder was heard, followed by quick footsteps as the previously unseen sniper rushed past the wall.

Oh. So he was incorrect. The sniper was as young as her voice sounded. Danse frowned. The rifle on her back clearly registered her as the sniper, but he had difficulty believing someone so young would be able to handle such a powerful weapon. The recoil alone should damage her shoulder, not to mention the weight of the weapon.

Such questions were not important at the present moment, however. More pressing matters needed their attention. These civilians may not be completely benevolent in their assistance. With the squad's weakened state, it would be easy for a well armed group to overtake them. He was confident he could take on each of the three individually, he wasn’t sure he could take on the man if the girl and Mr. Handy was giving him backup. His power armor was strong, but enough damage could cause it to break and leave them vulnerable.

“We appreciate the assistance, civilians,” Danse said, addressing the man. “But what’s your business here?”

The man moved himself, so he was in front of the girl. “We were on our way to Diamond City when we got your distress signal. It sounded like you needed a hand, so we came.”

The girl held up her wrist, showing off a Pipboy attached to it. “I picked it up on my Pipboy!”

The Commonwealth must have more operational vaults than the Wasteland. She said it so casually and without concern, despite the rarity of the device. She must have been from a Vault herself, as Danse could see now that she wore a vault suit under her duster and sparse leather armor. Though it didn’t explain her presence here and not underground.

“You know, when you first meet someone for the first time, it’s typical to introduce yourself. Not interrogate them,” the man said, almost sounding as if he was teasing. Danse knew that dealing with civilians should be dealt with more gently, as they couldn’t be expected to have the same discipline as a Brotherhood soldier. The death of his comrades have left him wary, however, believing caution to be the best way to move forward.

“Apologies. If I appear suspicious, it’s because our mission here has been difficult. Since the moment we arrived in the Commonwealth, we’ve been constantly under fire,” He apologized. If the man was willing to help, it would be unwise to anger him. “I’m Paladin Danse, Brotherhood of Steel. Over there is Scribe Haylen and Knight Rhys. If you want to continue pitching in, we could use an extra gun on our side.”

Danse held out his hand in a gesture of goodwill, which the man shook. “Preston Garvey, Commonwealth Minutemen. This is Sunny Roberts, I’m escorting her to Diamond City.” Danse had heard very little of the Minutemen. Any data on the cause was collected before his squad was sent out. Trained troops of volunteers would travel the Commonwealth responding to settlements in need of defense when called. A noble and honorable cause no doubt, but overly charitable and unfocused, with no stated way of collecting needed resources for their men. So he had to assume a single civilian being escorted by one was standard procedure.

Roberts pulled one of the arms of the Mr. Handy as she introduced the robot. “And this is Codsworth!”

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance, good sir!” it said, waving a claw in greeting. Danse really didn’t want to interact with it more than he had to, so he was relieved when Garvey continued speaking.

“I’m a little surprised to see Brotherhood all the way out here. I heard a little about you guys back in the day, but I thought you guys were all based in the west.”

“Affirmative, we are generally located toward the west coast. However, we have been sent out on recon duty, but I am down a man and supplies are running low. I’ve been trying to send a distress call to my superiors, but the signal’s too weak to reach them.”

Haylen finished stimpaking Rhys and spoke up, “Sir, if I may?”

“Proceed, Haylen.”

“I’ve modified the radio tower on the roof of the police station, but i’m afraid it just isn’t enough. What we need is something that will boost the signal.”

“Our target is ArcJet Systems, and it contains the technology we need…the Deep Range Transmitter,” Danse told Garvey. “We infiltrate the facility, secure the transmitter, and bring it back here. So what do you say? You willing to lend the Brotherhood of Steel a hand?”

Garvey looked apprehensive, but Roberts nudged him. “Mr. Preston, they need help. That man clearly needs more than a stimpak and I think I saw Haylen run out of those anyway.”

Danse suppressed a frown. Roberts was perceptive. While that wasn’t the last of their stimpaks, it was the last Scribe Haylen had in her first aid kit. There were two, maybe three, at best inside. The last of the Radaway had been used two days ago during a radstorm. Not nearly enough if they wanted to survive any future attacks.

Garvey, luckily, seemed to cave to the light pressure. “Yes, we’ll help you, but we will need more ammo and supplies if we want to get to ArcJet Systems. The last I heard, their security system was still operational.”

“I can assure you that I wouldn’t undertake this mission unless I had confidence in your abilities,” Danse assured. He turned and went toward Knight Rhys, who was only now starting to sit up with Scribe Haylen’s assistance. “Haylen, take Rhys inside and bind his wounds. That stimpak won’t be able to heal the more superficial wounds and we don’t want them getting infected and becoming a bigger problem. Rhys, once you're on your feet, I want you to make certain that the perimeter is secure.”

Once he heard their confirmations, he turned back toward Garvey. “Resupply yourself inside the police station, then let me know when you are ready to begin.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roberts had shot past Danse and Garvey, the Mr. Handy following fretfully behind. By the time the rest of them had filed in, he could already hear her rifling through ammo cases in one of the side rooms. He restocked his own supply of power cells at the front desk before allowing Garvey to grab his own. Danse watched as Sunny emerged from the side room and sat down on the floor near the door with a magazine and Nuka-Cola, using her duffle bag as a seat. The Mr. Handy started undoing and then redoing her braids, earning a quiet “Thanks, Codsworth” in return.

“Your charge seems awfully…attached to your robot.” Danse told Garvey. While he was aware of Mr. Handys being used for childcare before the war, and therefore likely used the same in vaults, seeing it do so was still unnerving.

Garvey looked up from counting his ammo and looked at the duo, unfazed by their strange display. “You mean Sunny? Yeah she’s pretty close to him, but I don’t blame her. He’s kinda all she has left.” Preston lowered his voice and said, “Both of her parents were murdered and the man who did it kidnapped her brother. That’s why I’m escorting her to Diamond City, to try and find leads on where he is now.”

Danse frowned, sympathetic to the girl, but still confused. “Surely there were more capable residents of the vault than a child. Despite her impressive abilities, she is still a prime target for hostiles.”

“There are no other residents,” Garvey stressed, now continuing with filling his ammo belt. “According to Sunny, none of the other residents' pods would open, and the terminals said their life support got cut off. She’s the sole survivor of that place”

Now he was more confused, “Life support pods? Were the residents quarantined due to disease? Is it wise to allow a potential carrier out in the open?”

Garvey shook his head, “No, she’s perfectly healthy as far as I can tell. At least physically.” He checked on her again. Now she insisted on the Mr. Handy lowering itself on the ground, to have it read along with her. If it wasn’t for its creepy eyes appearing to scan the page, Danse would have assumed it had powered down. Garvey lowered his voice again all the way down to a whisper, “The reason she was in there was she’s pre-war.”

Danse flicked his gaze back to her. She was snuggled up the best she could to the Mr. Handy, pressing a cheek to the cool metal as she scanned the magazine's pages, her knees propped up. Danse would admit he had difficulty telling a child’s age, but there was no way she was a teenager. Her height and awkward limbs suggested she was about to hit puberty, but her chubby cheeks and higher pitched voice showed it may still be awhile.

“I find that very difficult to believe.”

Garvey finished filling his ammo belt, and put it on. “Believe it or not, it’s true. The vault froze the original residents as soon as the bombs dropped. Nonconsensually. Apparently, they were told the pods were for decontamination. Sunny said one moment her father was telling her it would be alright, the next? Everyone’s dead. She’s only been out for a few days”

Dear God. Danse couldn’t keep the shock off his face. It was appalling how this happened. Vault-Tec had the technology. They could have kept the residents and their descendants alive for centuries, he knew they could. It was well known that the legendary Lone Wanderer was from a vault. But instead they committed atrocity after atrocity. There was a reason most vaults sat rotting, with all residents dead. Except it didn’t kill this one, just left her as a child out of place and out of time.

“She…seems to be handling it well?” he started uneasily. It was hard connecting an orphan left in the vault to the child chugging the last of her Nuka-Cola.

“Most of the time, she seems fine,” Garvey started, “ but if you remind her of what happened to her parents or what happened in the vault, she starts to break down. Happened when I first met her. She was fine until I asked her where her parents were. So it's best to avoid the topic.” The Minuteman straightened up and readied his musket. “Ready to go?”

“Affirmative. Follow my lead.”

Danse didn’t realize a third member had joined them until they were going down the steps of the station. “Roberts, return to the station. Haylen and Rhys are fully capable of watching you until Garvey’s return.”

She continued walking even as he addressed her, Codsworth following behind. “No, I’m going.”

Danse had to remind himself that she was not technically under his command, and pushed away the feeling of disrespect he was just hit with. Grabbing her by the shoulder, he contined, “I can not allow a civilian minor to accompany us on a potentially hazardous assignment. We will return shortly.”

“Arcjet worked with the military, so they had to have a great security system. You'll need someone hack into terminals and shut it down. I know you can't, Mr. Preston, and judging by the locked terminals in the station, I'm betting you can't either, Paladin.”

Garvey, luckily, seemed to be on his side. “I know you wanna help, Sunny, but you're going to be vulnerable if we get in a fight inside the building. Codsworth can only lay so much cover fire, and Paladin Danse and I won't be able to protect you.”

Roberts shrugged off his hand and adjusted her duffle bag to reach inside. “ I know I can’t fight if someone gets close. There’s a reason I use a sniper rifle. That's why I grabbed this at the station.”

A Stealth-boy was pulled out of her bag and held up triumphantly. “I can cloak myself so no one can see me, and uncloak when I need to use a terminal, or pick a lock, or something.”

“The lockpicking I'm sure won't be necessary, Miss Sunny,” the Mr. Handy cut in. He sounded a little put off, but Danse was sure that was his imagination.

Sunny rolled her eyes good naturedly, and zipped her bag back up. She clipped the Stealth-boy onto her duster for easy access before continuing forward. “Besides,” She added, “that Rhys guy looked like he wanted to shoot me in the back. I'm not going back in there with him.”

That made too much sense, unfortunately. Danse knew that Rhys took great pride as Brotherhood knight and had a poor temper with it. Having your superior protect you during combat was nothing to be a ashamed of, but needing assistance from two civilians and a machine was probably where Rhys drew the line. His ego was bruised and Robert's unusual attachment to the Mr.Handy drew a larger target for his ire.

In the Brotherhood, everyone should be treated with decency. Civilans should be treated with caution, as they were outsiders, so it would understandable to appear cold but it was still a soldier's duty to protect them and show they were not a threat until threatened. Superiors should be treated with the most respect, those of the same rank all held the same duties and should understand each other, and subordinates should be led by a firm but fair hand. Rhys’ temper often kept him from that. He had already received multiple dressing downs for aggressiveness toward fellow knights, insubordination toward superior officers, and mistreatment of scribes and initiates, which is why he was unable to climb the ranks any higher.

If he contined his behavior, he would recieve another for his attempts of intimidating a child, of all things.

Danse sighed and relinquished the argument. Mostly to avoid further headaches. “Very well. But I expect you to listen to every command Garvey and myself give you until we return,” he stated.

Roberts smiled. “ Yes sir, Mr. Paladin!”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So what exactly is the Brotherhood of Steel? Like, what do you guys do?”

After Danse had given explanation on what had happened to lead his squad to such dire straits in the Commonwealth, silence had fallen over the group as they jogged toward their destination. While the power armor lengthened his strides, each step was slower, so Garvey was able to keep up easily. Roberts’ shorter legs made the trek more difficult for her, as she was practically running compared to them. Despite this, she was able to break the silence about 10 minutes afterwards without sounding out of breath. Must have been all that youthful energy.

The question was reasonable, he supposed. The Brotherhood of Steel formed after the bombs fell, and haven't been in the Commonwealth ever. So they wouldn't be spoken about often enough for someone who's only been out for a few days to know about them. Danse racked his head for the recruiting methods he learned as an initiate.

“Our order seeks to understand the nature of technology. It's power. It's meaning to us as humans. And we fight to secure that power from those that would abuse it,” He stated. It wasn't the exact wording, but it was close enough he thinks.

“What do you mean by ‘abuse’?”

“Before the Great War, science and technology became more of a burden than a benefit. The atom bomb, bi-engineered plagues, and FEV are clear examples of the horrors technological advancement had wrought. We are here to make sure that doesn't happen.”

Roberts stayed silent for a bit, mulling the words over in her head. Danse was sure she would agree. She saw first hand how much was lost in the Great War. How technology in the wrong hands could rip apart families and kill entire nations.

“So what do you do when they do?” she asked, “Who decides who should and shouldn’t have certain things. Like, I get raiders and killers shouldn’t get, like, an atom bomb, but what if a small town has one or even just a lot of advanced weapons? What do you do then?”

Danse couldn’t help but be reminded of the story of the Lone Wanderer finding a small town built around an atom bomb, funnily enough. Apparently she had shut it off, but he questioned the validity of the story. “If the town is willing, we would temporarily relocate the citizens and send in a squad to disarm the bomb, dismantle it, and take the individual pieces to a secure location. In the case of the weapons, the same procedure is followed or they are to be put under the protection and control of the Brotherhood,” he said.

“And if they aren’t?” Roberts pressed. “I mean, I can’t imagine why a town would want a bomb, but the town could have those weapons for defense, not to hurt anyone.”

Danse swallowed, and continued, aware that the answer would sound wrong to someone so young, though maybe not so naive. “If a town is unwilling, they are put under control by force.”

Sunny didn’t ask any more questions.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roberts kept her promise in Arcjet Systems and stayed out of the way. When the synths first showed up, Danse was concerned when he immediately lost sight of her. Then she faded back into sight and he remembered the Stealth-boy she had. On occasion, he swore he saw a tire iron swing down on a synth across the room, but that was it.

“Damn it, a dead end! See if you can get the door open.”

“Got it!”

Roberts kneeled down in front of the door and carefully placed a bobby pin and screwdriver inside. Carefully turning the lock slowly and looking for the sweet spot. The Mr. Handy spoke for the first time since they left the station.

“Must you use such a criminal skill, Miss Sunny? Even hacking the terminal would be preferable.”

“Locking picking is faster. I promise you can lecture me later, Codsworth.”

Garvey leaned curiously over to observe her work. “Where did you even learn to do that? I didn't think schools before the Great War taught how to pick a lock.”

She was silent for a moment before answering. “ They didn't. I learned from a magazine and practiced on Mom and Dad's safe until I got it right.” a light blush bloomed on Roberts’ face. “I thought the cover looked cool.”

The Mr. Handy sighed, “ Sadly, I didn't find out about this terrible exercise until she had already cracked the safe open and had moved onto Mum's jewelry box.” the robot gave a simulated sigh. “ After that, I insisted we switch the liquor cabinet over to a five digit combination lock.”

“I wasn't going to go through the liquor cabinet,” Roberts pouted, but made no further argument. She replaced the bobby pin with another before attempting the other direction.

Danse leaned closer alongside Garvey. Roberts showed much potential for her age. Already well versed in combat, and possessed other skills to further the mission. If a few rougher edges could be smoothed out, she could become a very successful Brotherhood member in the future.

“ Roberts, have your Stealth-boy ready. There are more synths on the other side of door.”

“Got it.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Once they had gotten to the engine core, it seemed like the synths had multiplied. Roberts had disappeared as she should, but Danse hoped they didn't accidentally leave her behind above them. As they reached the bottom, the lights turned on. Excellent. Roberts must have gotten ahead and restored the auxiliary power.

Danse backed up against the glass of a window so none of the synths could attack from behind. The Mr. Handy had set up in front of the stairs, blocking any more approaching synths with a well placed shot.

Garvey kept moving around the room, as the slow reload of his laser musket left him open for a melee attack if he didn't stay out of arms reach.

“Paladin Danse!” Roberts pressed her face up against the glass from the other side. “I can turn on the engine from in here and take out all the synths but everyone needs to get in here!”

Adjusting his footing to back up toward the door, Danse yelled out to the two others. “Everyone inside the engine room now!”

Garvey and the Mr. Handy retreated into the the room, Danse bringing up the rear. His armor acted as an effective shield for the two as an automated voice started a count down. By the time it called out three, the Mr. Handy closed the door and Danse and Garvey pressed against it to keep the synths from getting in.

A scorching wave of heat hit the door as the engine roared to life. Garvey jumped back away from the red hot door, but Danse stayed against the door. His power armor was made to handle extreme temperatures such as this. While he wouldn't take unnecessary risk like standing in the flames, the heat off the door was negligible at worst.

As the engine sputtered off, Roberts ran down the hallway towards them. “ Is everyone alright?”, she asked, “That engine is way more powerful than I thought. It didn't just fry the synths like I thought it would, it turned them to ash!”

Danse made a mental note to inform his superiors of the deadly engine. While he had no idea how someone without the Brotherhood resources would move the giant thing, but it would be better to deal with it soon rather than find out who. Danse looked down at Roberts. She had dirt on her face from the window and her braids were once again a mess but she appeared relatively unharmed as she looked up at him.

“Great job,” Garvey praised, “ Sorry that I doubted you.” He affectionately ruffled her hair, causing more of it to fall out of her braids.

“Excellent work, Roberts.” Danse added. “With the power on and the way cleared, we should be able to locate the Deep Range Transmitter.”

Roberts grinned. “You're welcome, Paladin Danse. But you can just call me ‘Sunny’. ‘Roberts’ makes you sound like my old principal.”

Not knowing exactly what a principal was, Danse agreed to the small request.

“Very well, Sunny. Let's move.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Oh my gosh, the sun's too bright now! I think I spent too long in there!”

Danse had to agree with Sunny as he squinted against the harsh light in his eyes when they exited Arcjet Systems. The Deep Range Transmitter was secured and the whole building cleared for another squad to later survey for other resources.

Danse turned and faced the group. “ Thank you both for your assistance with securing the Deep Range Transmitter.” He focused on Garvey. “ If you are interested, I'm sure the Brotherhood of Steel would be proud to have you join our cause.”

“The offer is appreciated,” Garvey smiled, “ but I'll have to decline. Just make sure the Brotherhood knows to leave the settlements alone.”

“As long as they cause us no problems, that should not be an issue,” Danse agreed before turning to Sunny. “As a token of appreciation, take this,” he handed her his spare rifle, “ it's a standard issue energy rifle with a few modifications. The lack of recoil and shorter range will be more suitable for defense in closed areas.”

Sunny took it gratefully, “Thanks! I already live with a semi-permanently bruised shoulder. All this leather armor can only do so much. I don't think I can live with my wrist being like that, too.”

Danse felt a little smug. He knew she couldn’t use that rifle without repercussions. “The offer stands for you as well. It's not every day we have a squire so far ahead of their peers. You could become one of the youngest knights we ever had with more proper training.”

“Oh! Well, thank you for the offer,” Sunny hesitated, clearly unsure on what to do. “ but I don't think I'll have time for training. You see, I'm looking for someone and I have to follow my leads. So I can't stay at your Brotherhood base.”

“Accommodations can be made for your…unique circumstances, I’m sure once I explain the situation to Elder Maxson, he would sign off on it himself” Danse pushed, as Sunny awkwardly shifted her feet. “ and the Brotherhood resources could be used in your search. To my knowledge, you are looking for your younger brother, correct?”

Sunny sent a quick glare to Garvey, who looked unrepentant. Then she looked back at Danse, “Yes, I’m looking for my brother. His name is Shawn. The man who killed my parents took him, and I’m going to find him."

“I understand,” Danse comforted. “I also understand you need all the help you can get. While you would be expected to uphold Brotherhood values and rules, you would be under our protection. Since you are also under the Minutemen, your presence will serve to prevent hostilities between the groups.”

“But I’m not part of the Minutemen, Mr. Preston is just escorting me.”

That caught Garvey’s attention and he raised an eyebrow. “Sunny, you’ve been an honorary Minuteman since you helped at Concord.”

Her head whipped around in shock and her eyes grew bigger. “Really?”, she asked excitedly.

“Yes,” laughed Garvey good-naturedly, “just don’t expect me to give you assignments. Not until you're older. The word ‘honorary’ is there for a reason.”

Sunny whipped around once again to face Danse again, grinning widely and holding her hand out. “Okay, Paladin Danse, if you can convince your boss to let me continue to live outside your base, I’ll join the Brotherhood of Steel. Don’t make me regret it!” She pointed a finger at him.

Despite himself, Danse smiled lightly. “Excellent! Glad to have you, Squire Sunny.”

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sugar-soda · 4 months ago

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A Kid shouldn't be Here Masterlist: Child!Sole Survivor x Platonic! Found Family! Companions

Main Masterlist

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After the bombs fell, children became a precious rarity. The radiation left many women, even those who didn't become ghouls, unable to even get pregnant. Those that were able to had a whole new hosts of challenges to face. Lack of food, safe drinking water, and proper medical equipment meant that many pregnancies ended in tragedy. Even the act of being born was deadly in the Wasteland.

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Preston Garvey

Paladin Danse

Piper Wright

Nick Valentine

John Hancock

Robert Joseph MacCready

Deacon

Curie

Cait

Codsworth

Bonus:

Sunny’s Character Profile

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sugar-soda · 6 months ago

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Kids Shouldn't be Here: Preston Garvey

Fallout 4 Platonic Companions x Child! Sole

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence, Child in dangerous situations

Masterlist

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A kid shouldn't be here.

Not to mention, many had no desire to raise a child. Raiders obviously should never be trusted with anything, much less a child, but caravan merchants and guards typically had none. A life of constant walking and carrying supplies was hard enough without being impaired with another life growing inside you or on your hip.

Those who did have kids were typically settlers. Farmers who had plenty of food to feed another mouth or a shopkeep who had enough caps to buy a roof to go over the little one's head. A big, sturdy wall to keep the mutants and raiders away typically helped encourage more family units. Diamond City had a large enough wall to have a school. Even with those comforts, most kept their children glued to their hip until they were at least well into their teens. Even if a kid didn't have parents, they were kept close by grandparents, aunts, uncles, siblings, any family really. The only kids alone were ones who didn't have any family left at all.

____________________________________________________________

Preston had probably seen more kids than most as a Minuteman. Constantly moving around from settlement to settlement typically leads to that. Sometimes he would hold a baby for a tired mother so she could take a nap, or tell stories to a group of children following him on a patrol so their fathers could work in the fields. He even helped with a few births, when there was no other option. He would gladly not repeat that experience though.

However, he would rather deal with a hundred screaming mothers and bloody mattresses than be in this situation. Cornered in a decrepit museum as raiders closed in on their small group. He was firing his laser musket as fast as he could load it, but there was only one of him. The others had to stay back, knowing they would be more of a hindrance than help in a fight.

Sturges was a strong guy, but his aim left a lot to be desired. He couldn't hit a radscorpion if it was right in front of him. The Longs were farmers, not fighters, and were too distracted by the loss of their child to focus on any lessons Preston tried to give them in self-defense. Mama Murphy had apparently been a firecracker when she was younger, but nowadays she had trouble standing up on her own without the kickback of a gun to knock her over.

As Preston aimed and took another shot, he wondered if this place would be their grave.

He didn't notice them at first. The lasers were very similar looking to his own and the gunshots blended in with the raider's. It was only when he looked down his scope and watched a bullet pierce a raider's skull did he realize that someone was lending a helping hand.

As minimal relief flooded his mind, he checked his scoop, looking for their savior.

He noticed Dogmeat first. The canine was first introduced to him by Mama Murphy. Dogmeat would come on random days and sniff at her heels as the group walked, and then would lay down next to her as they made camp and ate their rations at night. Mama Murphy would insist on feeding Dogmeat when he was around, so he had taken to giving up some of his rations to keep the old woman from losing more weight. Preston wasn't ashamed to admit he had a soft spot for the stray, but Dogmeat didn't look much like the happy pooch Preston gave scratches behind the ears to, with a raider's crotch being clamped between his jaws and enough screams to prove the raider wasn't getting out of them alive.

The buzz of a saw led him to a Mr. Handy of all things. Shooting enemies with a built in laser when they moved too far away from his buzz-saw. This one was in the best condition he's seen, with small spots of rust being the only indication of its age. Hopefully, its internal programming was in good shape.

He saw the third last. Well, he didn't really see them. They had climbed up a building and set up a sniping spot, picking off raiders from above. They were almost completely hidden by the old air conditioning unit they used as cover. Preston could only see the barrel of their gun and the very top of their head poking out. Whoever it was, they were efficient with their shots. Whatever raider was wearing a helmet that prevented them from a clean headshot, got a bullet to their leg. That incapacitated them long enough for Dogmeat to pounce and get his fangs around their throat.

Efficient, if a little much for his taste.

As another raider fell to the Mr.Handy's buzzsaw, Preston yelled out to the sniper spot. He hoped that the mystery sniper would be willing to continue to lend their hand (and gun) to deal with the Raiders inside and their reinforcements to come.

"Don't worry, we're coming!"

If Preston had more sleep, more food, and less distractions and lives weighing his thoughts down, he would have noticed the response sounded too high pitched, too squeaky,

too young.

But Preston didn't, so instead he hurried back inside to give Sturges an update. He would have to remove the barricade on the door to allow their help to get to them, which would expose them to the Raiders inside.

Marcy protested angrily, yelling that whoever it was could just as likely kill them too. She was technically right, but they didn't have much of an option. Even with the extra hands (or paws, in Dogmeat's case), their best chance of survival was still the power armor and minigun on the roof, which meant someone would eventually have to go outside the room to the basement to get the fusion core.

Hopefully, the sniper was as good at hacking as they are shooting. Sturges was their most technologically savvy, but even he had trouble with the terminal.

The moment the barricade was removed, Preston started the same routine he did on the balcony. It was easier to land a hit now, all the Raiders funneled through a narrow walkway, but it gave him less time to reload.

Faintly, he could hear the sounds of more fighting near the entrance. Seems like they would have some backup.

As the fighting got closer, he started to hear more of the trio. Dogmeat's barks, growls, and yips were the first he could hear, clear as a bell. A bit later he could hear a faint, robotic accent firing along with a laser.

It was a good amount of time later that he could hear footfalls of someone sprinting toward their location.

One raider got too close, his armor thick enough to keep him from dying and his system filled with enough Physco to not fill the pain. A tire iron in his hand, the raider tried to muscle his way in. Preston shifted and slammed into the raider's torso with his shoulder, gritting his teeth as the tire iron came down on his back, focusing on keeping this madman out and away from the room.

Fate, it seems, had a similar thought, as the raider was suddenly yanked away and down. A small body had pulled him back by the neck and kicked the back of his legs. Combined with the surprise of the attack, it was effective enough to send the raider toppling onto his back and on top of the other person.

Dogmeat was here now, jaw latching around the raider's leg to keep him from getting his footing back. The Mr. Handy was also here, floating there with the same reason that Preston didn't immediately take aim at the raider.

Any shot taken at that moment would hit the other person, too. They had both arms wrapped around his neck, attempting to cut his airflow off but couldn't get a strong enough grip, as the fall seemed to knock the wind out of them. The raider seemed to realize this too, hand reaching down to feel for something.

The tire iron.

Preston swiped up the forgotten weapon and swung low like the golfers he's seen on faded billboards. He made contact with his ribs and used enough force to roll him off to the side and out of the chokehold and Dogmeat's teeth.

Which was all the signal the Mr. Handy needed. A laser shot out and hit the raider squarely in between the eyes.

Finally, a moment to breathe.

Preston closed his eyes and sighed. Can't relax just yet. There were still Raiders outside, and they were probably going to send reinforcements.

"Young Miss, I implore you to be more careful! You nearly caused my motor to give out,"

"Sorry, Codsworth, I saw the raider attack him and I panicked,"

Oh God no.

Preston opened his eyes to finally get a look at the sniper.

She had sat up now and was rubbing her shoulder, which was probably bruised in the fall. Dirt and blood were smeared across her face, though luckily it looked like the blood wasn't her own. A old military style duffle bag had been thrown off her shoulder and her twin braids were frayed. A pip-boy was clasped around her wrist and he could see blue and gold peeking out from behind a duster and leather chest piece. A vault dweller then.

A very, very young vault dweller. God, she was just a kid. Where were her parents? What was she doing out here joining fights she had no part in? What was he doing asking her to join a fight she had no part in? A kid shouldn't be here.

"Are you okay?"

She stopped and looked at him incredulously. "Shouldn't I be asking you that? You were the one who decided to tank a hit from a tire iron,"

All he could give was a breathless chuckle at that. "Man, I don't know who you are, kid, but your timing is impeccable," Preston held out a hand and helped her up to her feet. "Preston Garvey. Commonwealth Minutemen,"

"Minuteman? What the-," She questioned under her breath as she followed him back into the room. Her confusion made sense to Preston. She likely only learned about the original Minutemen in the Vault so seeing one now would seem strange. Despite her confusion, she responded. "You're welcome, Mr. Garvey. Do you mind telling me what happened?"

What didn't happen was a better question? Ever since Quincy, anything that could go wrong, did go wrong. More innocent people lost their lives everyday and he could do nothing to stop it. The closest thing to hope anyone has now is Sanctuary, which he wasn't certain was real. Mama Murphy's "Sight" has never been wrong, but he wasn't sure of it or how she used Chems to trigger her visions.

Not wanting to load everything on to the kid, Preston decided to give a very brief summary of what they were doing, he stated, "We were looking for a place to settle. Originally there were more of us but we lost a lot of people. We thought that Concord would be a safe place to settle. Guess we were wrong,”

“I'm sorry. It must be hard trying to protect everyone,” the girl frowned thoughtfully, “So, what's your plan to get out? There are still more raiders outside. If we go now they’ll turn us into swiss cheese with bullets,”

“Sturges. Tell her.”

“There's a crashed vertibird up on the roof. Old school, pre-war. You might have seen it. Well, looks like one of its passengers left behind a seriously sweet goody. We're talking a full suit of cherry T-45 Power Armor. Military issue.”

The kid seemed surprised, “Power Armor? That will certainly even the odds.”

“Heh heh heh heh, yeah, take every advantage we can. Protection, with an added bonus. We get the suit, Preston here can rip the minigun right off the vertibird. Do that, and those Raiders get an express ticket to Hell. You dig?”

Putting a hand on her chin, she replied, “Won't the suit need a power source? You can't move in those things without power. They're too heavy,”

“That's the one hitch. The suit's out of juice. Probably been dry for a hundred years,”

“What we need is an old pre-war F.C., a standardized Fusion Core. A high-grade, long-term nuclear battery. Used by the military and some companies, way back when. And we know right where to find one…” Preston said.

“But we can't get to the damn thing,” Sturges interrupted, “down in the basement, locked behind a security gate.”

Suddenly, the kid looked excited. “ A security gate? Hold on!” She quickly unzipped the duffle bag and dug around for a few seconds. “Is this it?”

There in such a small hand was the Fusion Core. If Preston wasn't already impressed and concerned by this kid, he was now.

“Well I'll be, kid. How'd you get to this thing?”

“I picked the lock,” She stated.

The Mr.Handy- Codsworth she said his name was- added, “An highly discouraged skill seems to have finally made itself useful,”

The kid grinned sheepishly then looked at Preston. “I hope you know how to use that armor, Mr.Garvey.”

“I'll be fine,” he managed. He did know to use Power Armor, but it's been years since he has used that knowledge. He never liked wearing the metal suits. They were slow, required too much maintenance, and were sweltering hot inside during the summer months. They're also, quite frankly, claustrophobia inducing. Every inch of your body is encased in thick padding and solid steel. The armor was strong, yes, but as a kid he had worried if Power Armor was strong enough to hold against a Deathclaw, or would it crush the armor alongside the person inside? Leaving them to a slow, painful suffocation and bleeding instead of a quick death of mutilation.

He never did get over his childish fear.

“You stay here with Sturges and the others. Sturges, you set the barricade back up and wait for my signal to leave.” Preston instructed.

“You got it, Boss-man.”

“Absolutely not.”

Sturges seemed fine with that plan, but the Vault dweller definitely wasn't. Her eyes narrowed and seemed to glare into his soul.

“Miniguns aren't accurate from long distances, so you’re going to have to jump to the ground. That leaves you more vulnerable, even with the Power Armor. What if one of the raiders pulls the fusion core out from behind you? Then you'll be stranded and can't move. You'll need someone to watch your back. I'll set up on the balcony you were on earlier.” She stated it as if it was the most sensible thing in the world, letting a child be a sniper while fighting off a group of murderers and thieves.

“I can't ask a civilian to join a fight like this, especially a minor,” Preston argued. He doesn't think he could handle another kid dying on his watch.

“Well then it's a good thing your not asking, I'm telling you,”

Preston had a feeling there was no changing her mind.

____________________________________________________________

Fate loved playing sick, twisted jokes on him. When they were down to the last few raiders and it looked like they could finally get out of this forsaken place, a terrible growl had shaken the ground beneath them. A giant, enraged Deathclaw had followed after, erupting from the ground and destroying an entire car.

Preston is pretty sure he aged ten years from that fight alone.

Luckily, the beast hadn't crushed him inside the armor. It did, however, damage the legs and right arm to the point of breaking. No use in it now unless they found a station to repair it.

Now that the Deathclaw laid dead, he listened. Trying to hear the next wave of enemies or disaster headed their way. Nothing. Guess the punchline was over.

Exiting the Power Armor, he looked up at the balcony. The kid had stayed there the whole fight, even when the Deathclaw had shown up. She would aim for the legs and head, keeping it distracted long enough for Preston to reload or inject a stimpack. He had seen fully grown Minutemen with worse aim than that kid.

He cringed internally, he should probably ask for her name instead of just calling her “kid”.

Now she wasn't there. That meant she was regrouping with the others.

Back inside, everyone else had already moved to the entrance. Mama Murphy was already being sat down by the young sniper.

“So is he your dog?”

“No, no. Dogmeat is his own man. He comes and goes as he pleases. It appears he is pleased to follow you for the time being, he knows your something special.”

“That or he wants the jerky in my pocket.”

That got a laugh from Mama Murphy. The first real laugh from her since Quincy. The ones she got from chems didn't count.

“Thank you for your help back there. I don't know how long we would have been messing with that terminal for if you hadn't shown up.”

She kicked at the ground shyly, embarrassed by the praise. “Happy to help, Mr.Garvey.”

“Speaking of things I don't know,” he smiled and put a comforting hand on her shoulder, “ I also don't know your name. Mind telling me what it is?”

“Oh!” She exclaimed, obviously not realizing she hadn't given her name. “I'm Sunny. Sunny Roberts,”

Preston kneeled down to be eye-level with her. “Well, Sunny, could you tell me where your parents are? I don't think they'll be pleased to hear you fought a raider band to save some strangers.”

Sunny's face fell like her namesake. “ Oh, that's- that's actually why I came to Concord. I need help.”

She took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. Now, she was acting like how Preston expected someone her age to act in this situation. Sunny’s whole body started shaking and her eyes filled with unshed tears, like the world was too scary and large and terrifying and all together not suited for the innocence of a child. Like she hadn’t looked down the sights of her gun at a raider and pulled the trigger with no hesitation.

“Hey, it's okay, it's okay,” he soothed, placing both hands on her shoulders, “Deep breaths, start from the beginning.”

Taking a shuttering breath, she started, “ A man came-a man came into the Vault. He wasn't-he wasn't Vault-Tec. He had a gun and-and a leather jacket. He did something-he did something that caused the pods to unthaw but mine-but mine wouldn't open. Mom's did. She was holding my baby brother. Her pod opened and he tried to-he tried to take Shaun. She wouldn't let him. She told him no and then he,” She took another breath. The unshed tears from earlier finally started to fall, “and he shot her.”

Just like Preston feared.

“He shot her and took Shaun and Dad tried to get to them but he shot him too and I couldn't get out,” She was sobbing now, panic, distress, and grief now grabbing a hold of her. “I couldn't get out and the pod refroze and unfroze but they were gone and everyone was dead and IneedtofindShaunIdon'tknowwheretheytookhimbutineedtofind-”

“Miss Sunny, breathe!” Codsworth interrupted. He placed a gentle claw gently on top of her head, which Preston guessed was the closest a Mr. Handy could get to soothing her. “You will make yourself sick at this rate. Come now, deep breaths.”

As she gulped down air to the best of her ability, one of Codsworth's eyes turned toward Preston.

“You'll have to forgive our state of distress Mr.Garvey. Miss Sunny was in a similar state when she left the Vault and I fear I haven't been much better. Your predicament with the raiders seemed to have acted as a temporary distraction but now I believe her grief is back in full force.”

“It's alright Codsworth,” Preston said. “I promise to help once I get everyone here to safety. We can't stay here.”

“And where do you suggest we go?” hissed Marcy Long. She had been surprisingly silent for most of this conversation but she had to speak now. “We can't go dragging a kid around on the road. It isn't safe!” She continued, a tone of anger and protectiveness usually reserved for her husband lacing her voice. After the loss of their daughter, she likely didn't want another child to die. Preston didn't blame her.

“We go to the place Mama Murphy told us about. Sanctuary is our best bet at the moment,”

“You mean she saw it while she was high during one of her crazy visions,”

“Now Marcy,” Mama Murphy started, “You know the Sight is never wrong. Just hazy. Sanctuary is close by. I know it is,” She turned a comforting gaze toward Sunny, who had calmed down to hiccups now. “Just like I know your brother is alive.”

Sunny froze. “You've seen him? Where is he?”

“I'm sorry, Sweetheart. I didn't see him, but I feel his life force out there. I know he is. The Sight may be hazy, but it won't lie to you.”

Sunny went from hopeful to confused, “The Sight?”

“It's the chems, dear. They let me see a little of what has been, a little of what will be, and sometimes, a little of what is right now. Been that way since I was a girl” Mama Murphy tapped her temple indulgently. “Your brother is alive. And even I don't need the Sight to tell you where to start looking. Diamond City, the Great Green Jewel of the Commonwealth.”

“Um,” said Sunny, who looked to be processing what she was just told. “I'm gonna need to know a little more information than that.”

“Look, kid, I want to help but I'm tired. You bring me some Jet and we'll see what else is I can see.”

“No, Mama Murphy,” Preston scolded sternly. This had been an on-going battle for as long as he has known her. She would sneak any chems she could to try to trigger the “Sight”. It had proven useful multiple times over now, but the drugs were far too hazardous to the old woman's health for him to let her continue to use them. So him and Sturges have taken to confiscating any chem they found before she could take it and would carry her pack whenever they could to feel for any unexplained shifts in weight. Despite their efforts, she still snuck a few in now and again. “We've talked about this. That junk- it will kill you.”

“Oh shush, Preston. We're all gonna die eventually. We're gonna need the Sight. And our new friend here, she's gonna need it too,”

He started to argue again when Sunny tugged at his coat.

“Mr. Garvey, Mama Murphy is right about Sanctuary. It's close by. Me and Codsworth just came from there.”

“Codsworth and I,” the Mr. Handy corrected, “but Miss Sunny is right on Sanctuary's location. Just past the Red Rocket Station and over the bridge and you'll be right there,”

That was great news, even with Mama Murphy's smug grin.

“Alright folks. Thanks to our little friend here, we know where we are going now.”

____________________________________________________________

Sunny led the way to Sanctuary, knowing the way the best. Codsworth took up the rear, with his three eyes pointing in different directions in search of any potential threats. Dogmeat jumped around all over the place, simply happy to be there.

When they finally got to the bridge, he could see why this place was called Sanctuary even before the bombs dropped. It was out of the way, surrounded by trees, and had a river separating it from the rest of the Commonwealth.

Some of the houses had collapsed in on themselves but a majority were surprisingly stable. Sturges found a workbench and immediately started to work on patching up the walls. Marcy found melons and gourds already growing behind the same house, setting Jun and herself the task of harvesting as many as they can. Mama Murphy sat down on an old loveseat with Dogmeat lying down to be her foot warmer.

Sunny kept herself the most busy. First, she helped Preston with dragging the wood and metal debris out of the yards and road and into a pile to be broken down for materials. After that, he started on cutting the wood down for firewood and Sunny dragged out all of the still intact mattresses from the houses. Once outside, she beat them with a bat, trying to get as much dirt and dust off of them as she could.

Once she finished that and deposited the mattresses down where they could safely sleep, she started zipping around the area, grabbing everything that wasn't nailed down and depositing it to whoever she deemed needed it. At least it all seemed to have a use. Hammers, screwdrivers, wrenches, any technology, and even a few bags of concrete powder were handed off to Sturges. Seeds, garden tools, and edible plants where given to Marcy. Water, first aid items, and packaged food was set by Mama Murphy for easy access. Ammo, weapons, and armor were left on the weapons table for him to assess later.

At one point, she snuck up to him, handed him a bag that was full of chems, and whispered, “I found a lot of drugs all over the place. I didn't want Mama Murphy to find them but I don't know what to do with them now. Burning them seemed like a bad idea.”

Codsworth had taken advantage of a cooking station near the front and whipped up some sort of stew for them by sundown. Preston was finishing off his second bowl when Sunny approached him again.

“Mr. Garvey, do you have a minute? I have an idea for something we can use for defenses against raiders but I don't think I can carry them by myself,” She asked.

“Sure, I got a minute,” he smiled, “but you know you don't have to call me ‘Mr. Garvey’, right? Just ‘Preston’ works fine.”

“Alright, Mr. Preston, this way,” She said, turning on her heel and walking away. Even as Sturges laughed at him good-naturedly.

“At least she’s respectful. Could have chosen another name for ya and kept at it till it stuck.”

Deciding that “Mr. Preston” worked just fine, he followed her to a dirt road that ran between two houses.

____________________________________________________________

“Vault 111 is up here. There were a few turrets up here that I think only need minor repairs. If Sturges could fix them, we can set them up around Sanctuary for protection. That way, even if we are all asleep, nothing can sneak up on us.” Sunny started up the overgrown path with Preston close by.

Turrets. Now that was firepower. Those things shot faster than any person and normally had a steel shell protecting it. Even one of those at Sanctuary would give him a better night’s sleep.

“I can see why you asked for my help. Those things can be heavy, especially if there is more than one. Though, are you sure you can carry one? I can go back and ask Sturges for help if we need to,”

Sunny stopped and blushed “I can carry a turret!” She crossed her arms and looked down at her feet. “I just can't carry anything else with it and I think there are at least three,” she whispered.

Preston laughs. Sunny seemed to be good at causing that to happen.

They kept walking and Preston was a bit concerned by the skeletons by the gate and overturned military vehicles past it.

“What happened here?”

“Vault 111 residents were speciality military personnel and their families, both active and former. Supposedly, it was to thank and honor them for their service. A good many lived in Sanctuary Hills so that's why this location was chosen. There were more non-military people who wanted in, but they weren't allowed and tried to force their way in, so the military was brought in to keep them out,” Sunny stated. Her face held a quiet sort of reverence, like she was afraid of waking the dead that laid here. She kept walking forward, toward a turret that was covered in fallen wood and started pulling it away. “The Vault closed just as the bombs fell,” She paused as she pulled the turret free.

“They left those people to die.”

Preston crouched down at a second turret. It had some burn marks on it, but didn't seem to have any internal damage. “I'm surprised that the Vault would teach that in their school. Doesn't paint Vault-Tec in the greatest light.”

She was quiet after that, which Preston took as his que to get the last turret. Its barrel was completely snapped off from rust. If its internal mechanisms were the same, he wasn't too sure if Sturges could fix it.

Supposedly. That bothered him about what she said. Something that should have been true but wasn't. Like how reinforcements were supposedly on their way at Quincy and they would just have to hold a little longer. Instead, no one came, innocent people died, and he was left to try to put back together what little remained of his and everyone else's hope.

“Sunny?”

“Yes?”

She sounded upset now. Not like the sobbing, wailing breakdown she had earlier, but still sad. Melancholy, like she was mourning the dead she didn't want to wake.

He took a deep breath and asked, “You said that Vault 111 was supposedly to thank and honor military personnel for their service, right?”

“That's right.”

“Well,” Preston started, “What was it actually for then?”

Sunny successfully lifted up the first turret. It was a little bigger than her torso and looked awkward for her to carry. There was no way she could carry anything else with it. Despite her heavy load, she answered him.

“Testing,” She stated “According to the terminals I read when I left, Vault 111 was actually made to test prolonged cryogenic suspension and its effects on the human body. It was just as unethical then as it is now but it was also very, very illegal.”

Sunny sighed. This story sounded personal to her, so Preston waited, “Vault-Tec knew they couldn't tell anyone outside of their crappy company, much less market it. So they lied. Spewed a bunch of nonsense about ‘protecting our future’ and ‘state of the art technology’ and no one questioned a thing. When we got to the Vault, the scientists told us we had to be ‘decontaminated’ and that we would only be in there ‘for a minute’, but it wasn't a minute,” She was getting angry now, throwing the turret down and waving her arms as she paced and ranted. “I don't even think they thought it would be that long. As far as I can tell, the guards in the Vaults got tired of waiting to leave and rebelled against the scientists studying us, and it ended with everyone not in a stasis pod dead and unable to wake us up. Vault-tec lied to everyone that placed their lives in their hands, thinking that they may have a shot of survival, only for them to die just like everyone else here.”

Okay, more personal than Preston thought. She was right, of course, but the way she spoke.

“That must have been hard. Growing up and hearing about the betrayal that happened,”

Sunny stopped pacing, and pinning him with a look that would have been intimidating if she was older. “What are you talking about? I was there. I grew up in Sanctuary Hills.”

Preston's blood stopped cold. The stasis pods. With no one around to open them, the frozen residents were unable to be released and procreate. Sunny had said they were in there for longer than they should be, and she kept using we and us when…

“Wait a minute, are you saying you were there when the bombs fell?” He asked. She had said earlier that she had been refrozen in her stasis pod when her brother was kidnapped. But Preston couldn't believe it, didn't want to believe it.

“Yep,” Sunny said, “I'm two hundred and twelve years old, give or take a few years. Codsworth's internal clock isn't entirely accurate anymore.”

Preston didn't know what to say. When he thought she had just lost her parents and brother, he already felt obligated to help. Now, it turns out she lost everything. The world as she knew it was gone and only hollowed ruins of it remained. For the pre-war ghouls, they have had time to adjust to the change, to the radiation, and crumbled buildings, and death. He had a feeling Sunny hadn't gotten that chance.

“How long?” Preston asked as Sunny picked up the turret again. His mouth felt dry and he had to lick his lips before starting again. “How long have you been out of stasis?”

Sunny shrugged, not meeting his eyes. “A couple hours at most. I had only been out about an hour when Codsworth and I left for Concord,” She turned on her heel towards Sanctuary, “Come on. It's getting dark soon and I don't want Codsworth worrying about how long we've been gone.”

Preston tucked the other two turrets under his arms and followed. He didn't know what to say.

The walk back was quiet and it was fully dark by the time they set the turrets down next to the workbench. Sturges could work on them tomorrow. By the time they got to the workbench, Sunny looked ready to pass out.

“Whew, what on earth do they put in these things to make them so heavy? I thought they were basically guns that shoot themselves?”

Preston smiled, “ I'm sure Sturges could tell you what is inside it if you ask,” his smile disappeared as quickly as it came. He remembered why Sunny came to Concord and the conversation she had with Mama Murphy before leading them here. “Are you really going to go to Diamond City all on your own?”

Diamond City is right in the center of the Commonwealth and a good, long walk from here. A walk that had ferals, radscorpions, super mutants and even mirelurks once you reached the river. As well as she handled herself at Concord, there was no way Sunny could be on guard the entire trip in order to stay alive.

“I have to, Mr. Preston,” She said, a desperate tone seeping into her voice. “Shaun's my brother. He's my family. The only family I got left. And he's so little, he's only a baby. I don't know what that monster is gonna do to him. I've got to find him and Diamond City is my only lead. And I won't be entirely alone, Codsworth is coming too, and Dogmeat, if he's willing to come.”

That didn't make Preston feel any better. While both could provide extra protection, neither would be any help with less direct threats. Slavers, scam artists, and thieves would see a Mr. Handy as scrap metal, Dogmeat as food, and Sunny as a target.

Looking around Sanctuary, Preston thought for a moment. This place was probably the most isolated of the attempted settlements and, therefore, the safest. And with how small their group was, it wasn't likely for anyone to know about them being there for a good while.

Preston made his decision right then. Gently pulling her wrist towards him, he punched in a marker for Diamond City.

“Sounds like you could use my help. I'll mark it on your map. We can leave after tomorrow.”

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sugar-soda · 2 months ago

Text

Kids Shouldn't be Here: Nick Valentine

Fallout 4 Platonic Companions x Child! Sole

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence, Child in dangerous situations

Masterlist

______________________________________________________________

Kids were in trouble in Diamond City often.

Most of the time, it wasn’t anything big. Kids were meant to get into small amounts of trouble. Sneaking a Fancy Lad Snack Cake before dinner was expected, and with an actual group of kids in the city, arguments and fights were bound to happen. It was easy for them to get a hold of things they shouldn’t: Half empty beers left by guards on break, a single Mentat left in a tossed away tin, and dirty magazines their fathers hid from their moms. All was free reign when the adults were away.

A few times, the trouble they brought was bigger. While an adult would not get sick from a full bottle of alcohol or from a strong hit of Jet, the few times a kid has gotten their hands on something unused like that, it ended with them having to spend the entire night in Dr. Sun’s care. Everyone also remembered when John McDonough had set fire to the radio station. One resident still walked with a limb from when they played with their mother’s pistol.

They weren’t all trouble. Everyone got their news from a quick-witted little girl, and their water was cleaned by a sharp tongue young boy. Children never bothered Takahashi, only approaching the robot when they had spare caps to buy a bowl of noodles. It wasn’t uncommon to find them piled up in a secluded area, reading a few comics and sipping from a single Nuka-Cola until it was time to go to class, go home, or help their parents with their jobs.

None of the adults really trusted each other. Parents especially. So no one asked for help when they struggled to take care of their little ones. If anyone wanted to help, they would have to be subtle about it. Dr. Sun’s price for check-ups would be mysteriously cheaper for families, and Mister Zwicky and Miss Edna ran the schoolhouse 24/7. That’s as much “help” as anyone was willing to accept.

There was, however, one exception to that unspoken rule.

______________________________________________________________

Detective Nick Valentine always liked kids. When he first came to Diamond City, the kids were the only ones to talk to him, asking questions he didn’t have answers for and telling him what he didn’t know about the Commonwealth. Even now, the kids of Diamond City would randomly approach to ask questions about his latest case or news outside the city Piper didn’t deem necessary to write about. His status as a publicly-known, easily-seen, prototype synth ironically gave the parents of Diamond City a peace of mind when he was with the kids. He was already a synth, so there was no worry of him being replaced by one. Even if he was, he had so much wear and tear, there was no way it wouldn’t be noticeable. So no one was worried when the kids ducked into the agency to avoid a rainstorm. Well, except Myrna, who had a problem with Nick's general existence.

Even the original Nick was good with kids, regularly being the one placed in charge of kids to ask gentle questions or provide a distraction until a parent or social worker could take over. Bubblegum and candy had taken permanent residence in his pockets so he could pass them out. His friends and fellow cops had told him he would make a great father. When he first started out, he would just laugh them off, saying he works too much to have a kid. After he met Jenny, the teasing jokes increased and he would have to ignore the pleasant images in his head and the warm, subtle blush on his stern face.

Then Jenny was shot, and the jokes stopped, and any idea of fatherhood had disappeared long ago.

Now, his dislike of gang leaders like Winters had not decreased from that terrible night. Skinny Malone had nowhere near the power of Winters, but he had the same ego. Nick wasn’t sure what exactly Darla saw in the gangster, but his best guess was his promise of caps and power that had blinded the young woman from his cigar breath and bad temper. Not that her’s was any better.

The no-name mobster that was guarding Nick was just as bad. He would yell out taunts or threats and get annoyed when Nick ignored him and get annoyed when Nick did respond. He was sure the guy was compensating for something, but the annoying bastard was sadly right. He didn’t have any way of getting out of this office, and rescue wasn’t likely coming. He was at the mercy of Skinny Malone’s twisted whims.

He picked up the very slightest scrape of a door. All the vaults had these fancy sliding doors that barely made any noise. Lot easier on the audio processor than the rusted, broken doors more commonly found in the rest of the Commonwealth. Nick expected the rough yells of another triggerman coming to tell his current guard it was time to switch off or that Skinny has finally decided to stop wasting time and off the detective.

Instead, he heard nothing. Just the poorly made threats echoing through the empty, wide open room. Nick slowly slid his eyes around what he could see from the window. White metal walls, white metal railings, and white metal railings. Same as it was when he was first locked in this office.

There. A flash of red, before disappearing on the stairs. Definitely not triggermen. They preferred to wear reclaimed suits from before the war in blacks and checkered patterns. Nick wasn’t sure who this person was, but they were the closest thing Nick has had a chance of getting out of here.

“Keep talking, meathead. It'll give Skinny Malone more time to think about how he's going to bump you off,” Nick insults back at the wannabe mobster. He was pulling words out of thin air, but he needed this guy out of here. As the triggerman sputtered out a retort, Nick added detail to his lie in his head.

“Really? I saw him writing your name down in that black book of his. Lousy cheating card shark I think were his exact words. Then he struck the name across three times.” That was how Skinny Malone kept track of everything. His men, money, people he killed, where he was wanted. Everything was kept in a little, black book that was dwarfed by Skinny’s large fingers, and everyone knew what those three strikes meant. Three strikes and you’re out.

The triggerman panicked at the suggestion and ran off. Good. That’s one obstacle out of the way. Now for the door.

“Hey, you. I don't know who you are, but we got three minutes before ole' muscles-for-brains comes back. Get this door open.” He yelled through the window. Running toward the terminal, He saw that there were actually three people.

He was relieved to see Piper. A few times he had asked her for assistance, and even more she had invited herself on a case. Nick remembered when she first came to Diamond City, little Nat in tow. A teenager who had a gleam of determination in her eyes that hasn’t gone away as an adult. While she was as subtle as an atom bomb sometimes, she had her heart in the right place.

A minuteman took watch at the door the triggerman had left through. Nick hadn’t seen one for awhile. When Nat had shown up at his door early one morning, personally delivering a copy of a certain story to each member of the city, Nick knew it was important. He dropped a few caps in the girl's hand, then sat in his chair reading about the death of Quincy over and over until Ellie had woken up. He had passed the paper to her solemnly and neither of them had spoken for the rest of the day. Nick didn’t know if this one was involved, but he didn’t trust him to watch his back.

Whoever the third person was, they ran to the terminal too fast for a good look on who they were. He just caught their shorter stature and a bright blue. His guess was a vault dweller. They were the only ones who wore such a vibrant color. This vault had never been completed, so he guessed they were from vault 81, since it was the only operational vault to his knowledge.

“Hey, Valentine,” Piper greeted through the thick glass. “You got Ellie all worked up thinking you’re dead.”

“I’ll give her a day off once you and your friends get me out of here,” He promised. His gaze flicked to the minuteman. “Do I know these guys?”

Piper followed his eyes, “No, met them earlier. Don’t worry, he was with Colonel Holis when Quincy fell.”

Good enough for him.

The sound of the terminal going off and the click of the lock interrupted any further conversation. “I got it, Miss Piper!” the third person spoke. The voice sounded young. They rushed in quickly, Piper coming in after the previously unseen third member of the party.

Looks like he was right. The kid couldn’t have been more than a few years older than Nat. She was all awkward limbs and too-big armor. The yellow-gold lettering on her suit said 111 instead of 81, so he was wrong about that. He had never heard of Vault 111, but it may have opened up in the time he was locked up in here. That didn’t explain what the kid was doing or what the hell Piper was thinking bringing her here.

Nor did it explain the laser rifle in her hands, nor the sniper rifle slung haphazardly to her back.

The kid seemed surprised by his appearance, probably not stopping to register it when she was hacking the terminal. Her eyes widened in shock at his appearance and her nostrils flared as she attempted to school her face into a polite neutral expression. He appreciated the attempt at least. Most people would either freak out or spit insults in shock.

Deciding to wait and see what explanation she had, Nick lit a cigarette. He couldn’t actually breathe in the smoke or feel the effects of the nicotine, but it was a habit from the original Nick that he had never been able to properly shake. Guess addictions ran deeper than just physical.

“Gotta love the irony of the reverse damsel-in-distress scenario,” he said, “Question is, why did our heroine risk life and limb for an old private eye?”

“My brother was kidnapped,” the vault girl answered, “You’re my only lead on finding him, so here I am. How did you get in here?” She said it with such ease that Nick wondered if she realized how strange this scenario was. Not that he had any room to comment.

“A missing kid, huh? Well, you came to the right man. If not the right place.” Missing people were sadly a dime a dozen in his line of work. Kidnapped kids, sneaking spouses, and turbulent teenagers would disappear and their loved ones would come to Nick Valentine, the Synth Detective. The cases didn’t always end the same way. Sometimes he simply brought back a runaway who overestimated their skills and underestimated the Commonwealth, dragging them to their crying mothers or upset fathers. Other times, he revealed an affair that had been ongoing for months or years, until the immoral lovers decided to run from their problems instead of releasing their poor, betrayed spouses. He normally alerted the guards and kept an eye on the cheated party, due to how prone they were to the whispers of revenge. Kidnappings were the worst. They normally involved sneaking, fighting, and sweet-talking his way to the victim’s freedom. Sometimes he saw a reuniting of families. Other times he brought back a limp body. Still there are others, where there was nothing at all.

“I thought you were looking for a kidnapped woman, Nick. How did you end up being kidnapped?,” Piper questioned.

“I've been cooped up in here for weeks. Turns out the runaway daughter I came here to find wasn't kidnapped. She's Skinny Malo's new flame, and she's got a mean streak,” Nick explained. The vault girl made a grossed out face, guess she hadn’t gotten out of the ‘boys are icky’ phase. “Anyway, you got troubles, and I'm glad to help. But now ain't the time. Let's blow this joint. Then we'll talk.”

The girl nodded, “Got it. I’m Sunny, and the man with us is Mr. Preston. We met Miss Piper when we went to Diamond City looking for you.” As she spoke, she grabbed a bobblehead off the desk, pivoted on her heel, and followed them out of the office.

The minuteman, Preston, took his gaze off the door. While Sunny had tried to hide her reaction to Nick’s robotic appearance, he gave none at all. “It’s an honor to meet you, Detective Valentine. Sorry it couldn’t be under better circumstances.”

“Likewise. We’ll save the pleasantries. Hope you know how to use that musket.” Nick took the point of the group, rushing down the steps toward the exit. He explained quietly the situation regarding the vault, Skinny Malone, and how he got hired then subsequently thrown in the office. Two weeks of being guarded by these meatheads had made Nick more than a little stir crazy.

They came up to the entrance of what looked like the vault cafeteria. Triggermen were scattered around, playing cards and drinking what little provisions they had away. It's a wonder they were able to stay here this long the way they blew through food and liquor.

“How do you want to do this?” he whispered. There was a tell-tale sign of a Stealth-boy being activated and Sunny had disappeared. Good. There was a plan for her.

Piper had taken the first shot, and then chaos erupted. The gunshots echoed loudly off the metal walls of the vault. Preston's laser musket was probably the quietest of all of them, though Nick had seen a laser come from nowhere a few times.

The rest of the Vault went the same way. Run through the stairwell, shoot the triggermen, rinse and repeat until annoyed. “Who built this damn vault? A fitness instructor?,” Nick complained.

Whenever the fighting would stop, Sunny would reappear, then set to rifling through the dead men's pockets for ammo and stimpaks. She stayed quiet for the most part. She mostly made occasional noises of agreement in response to commands. There was a brief excited squeal of excitement when finding an in-tact comic book before she remembered herself. Nick was glad she seemed to understand the situation, he didn't have the patience to keep an eye on an unruly teen.

They finally came up to the room where Skinny Malone mainly set up shop. Nick could hear heavy footsteps

The door click and angry swearing through the door. He tried to open it, but it held fast. “Another locked door. Shouldn't be too hard…”

As he messed with the lock, he gave a warning. “I hear big, fat footsteps on the other side, so Skinny Malone and the rest of his boys are waiting for us in there. The name's, uh, ironic, but don't let that fool you. He's dangerous. Once we step through this door, get ready for anything.”

The spare bobby pin he kept snapped. “Dammit,” he swore. He started fishing for another in his pockets. While he could pick a lock just fine, he was much better with terminals or any piece of tech. Old Nick didn’t bother with either, but he also didn’t need to. This skill belonged to the Synth.

Something tapped against his shoulder. “Here, I got some.” Sunny was holding out an old cigarette carton, stuffed full of bobby pins that rattled with each tap.

“Thanks,” he said, taking a pin and trying again. This time he found the sweet spot in the lock. It clicked open and he was met with the business end of multiple submachine guns.

“Nicky? What're you doin'? You come into my house. Shoot up my guys. You have any idea how much this is gonna set me back?,” Skinny Malone said in false hurt.

“I wouldn't be here if it weren't for your two-timing dame, Skinny. You ought to tell her to write home more often.”

“Awww… poor little, Valentine. Ashamed you got beat up by a girl? I'll just run back home to daddy, shall I?,” Darla mocked. Her grip around her bat tightened. Apparently, she liked to get up close and personal with her victims in a way that firearms didn't allow for. Nick had the unfortunate experience of learning that when he first came to the Vault.

“Should've left it alone, Nicky. This ain't the old neighborhood. In this Vault, I'm king of the castle, you hear me?,” Malone spat, “And I ain't lettin' some private dick shut us down now that I finally got a good thing goin'!”

Darla’s glare snapped to Skinny. Even he wasn’t free from her ire, “I told you we should've just killed him, but then you had to get all sentimental! All that stupid crap about the ‘old times’."

“Darla, I'm handling this! Skinny Malone's always got things under control!”

As the killer couple bickered, Nick thought that they could sneak past the two if it weren’t for the two bodyguards aiming at them.

“Oh yeah, then what's a kid doing here, huh? A pipsqueak helped rub us all out of here!,’ Darla pointed her bat too close to Sunny’s face, and leaned down to snarl in her face. “What are you doing here, you brat?”

Sunny’s eyes widened in a mix of emotions. Surprise at being addressed, fear at being threatened, and confusion at the question. She was quiet for half a second, before steeling her face like she did when she entered the office, and asked her own question.

“What are you doing here?”

Darla didn’t like that answer one bit, grabbing the girl’s arm and dragging her forward. “You fucking mocking me? Don’t test me, cause I ain’t got a problem with knockin’ a snot-nosed brat off the map!, “ she spat.

“You’ve got a family don’t you? With food, water, and safety? Who love and care enough for you to go all the way to Diamond City in the hopes of hiring someone who can find you? Why would you give that up?”

Darla still looked angry, but now that anger looked conflicted. Nick didn’t know much about her family and their homelife. When her father had come into his office on a late, chilly afternoon, he knew he wasn’t from the city. His skittishness at the crowds and purple stains on his clothes suggested he was a mutifruit farmer, but all the man spoke about was his poor daughter had been kidnapped by some gangster, and he had no idea where he had taken her. When the father had calmed down enough to describe the gangster in detail, Nick knew where to look for the girl.

“I had nothing in that dirt pile! No one understood I wanted to be more, not just work in the fields with the other girls and pop out babies for the first fucking guy that popped the question!”

Sunny grimaced as Darla tightened her grip, but kept pushing. “So you came here? An empty vault surrounded by gangsters with no caps? Ordered around by a gross old guy that could be your father?”

“He’s got power!” Darla argued, but she didn’t look like she believed herself. Most of Skinny Malone’s men were now corpses pumped full of lead. He had been muscled out of his previous territory by stronger, smarter, and better supplied gangs. It wouldn’t take much for them to come in here and kill off the gang for good.

“What good is that when you have no food or water? If the settlements don’t bow to your threats, and you can’t get caps, where are you going to get stimpaks or radaway? At least that dirt pile seemed to care about you, all he’s done is drag you underground and yell at you.”

There was a beat of stillness as Darla didn't respond, staring at Sunny. Then, she just…drops the kid’s arm. Sunny immediately scrambles back behind Preston. Darla stared for a bit longer, brow furrowed and angry, then turned and started walking toward the exit.

“Darla? Wh-where are you goin'?”

“Home, Skinny! Where I should have been all this time. This is goodbye for us,” she snapped. Her walk turned into a sprint as she took off toward the vault door, refusing to be stopped by Skinny’s yelling. Nick guessed he would get a message in a few days from her father, telling him Darla is home, safe and sound.

“Oh, come on, Nicky! You cost me my men, now you and your friend cost me my girl?, “ the gangster turned back to the detective. Well, the runaway girl got out. Now he had to get himself out.

“The kid here just did you a favor, Skinny. You always did have bad taste in women,” Nick quipped, “Now that she's not around to feed that temper of yours, maybe you'll see sense and let us walk? You still owe me for two weeks in the hole.”

Skinny turned multiple shades of red. “ You smug, overconfident ass… Agh! All right, you get to the count of ten! I still see your face after that, I'm gunning both of you down!,” he growled.

That was long enough for Nick.

“Ah, look at that Commonwealth sky. Never thought anything so naturally ominous could end up looking so inviting…”

The mad dash out the vault and into the open air hadn’t affected Nick, but the other three were kneeled over as they tried to catch their breath. Nick patted Sunny’s shoulder as she gulped down air, “Quick thinking in there, kid. You kept a cool head in there.”

“Oh, I didn’t,” Sunny disagreed, gasping between words. “I have no idea what I said, it was just word vomit. I think I actually threw up a little.”

The walk back to the city was filled with chatter. Piper caught Nick up on everything he missed while prisoner in the vault. Who had been accused as a synth, who did the accusing, who had been caught cheating, what asinine thing Mayor McDonough had most recently done, and everything in between. When she had exhausted all topics, she pressed Preston into talking about the Minutemen and his hopes for the currently broken faction.

Sunny added small comments to their anecdotes. She had added that the mayor had mistaken Preston for her father when Piper had told him about McDonough making the kid cry. When the Minuteman told about their incident at the Museum of Freedom, she had helpfully added about Preston getting thrown into a car when fighting the Deathclaw.

It naturally segwayed into Sunny coming from a vault.

Nick wasn’t surprised that Vault-Tec would do something so horrible as to freeze people alive, but he was surprised anyone survived. Guess they were in the same boat. The only reason either of them were here in the Commonwealth is because of the immoral actions of people wanting to play god with no consequences. Nick had no idea how the Institute had gotten the original Nick’s memory files, but he had definitely not signed up to have his memories shoved into a experimental robot. Even if some families would have willingly frozen themselves to wait out the nuclear apocalypse, Vault-Tec still decided to lie and trick innocent people for their sick experiment.

Now all that was left of those experiments was a Synth Detective and a two-hundred and twelve year old kid.

Sunny hadn’t walked in their small group, instead choosing to flit back and forth on the street and between the three. She was filled with nervous energy, likely about the missing brother she mentioned earlier. There were a million ways someone could go missing in the Commonwealth, and going missing from a vault would make a case harder than the average runaway case. Nick just hoped the boy was alive, wherever he was. He wanted to go ahead and start asking questions, but they all probably needed rest before they were really ready for questions. Anyway, he would prefer to ask questions in a more private place with a notepad and pen. He could borrow Piper’s but he didn’t want any private details mixed into the next edition of Publik Occurrences.

All of the stores were closed by the time they got into the city. Everyone was asleep by now, except it seems, Nat, who was still up waiting for her sister. Piper crashed onto her couch with a promise of a longer interview later, and a Mr.Handy replaced her. According to Preston, “Codsworth” was Sunny’s and had served her family before the bombs dropped.

No wonder she was so attached to him.

When they got to the agency, Preston gladly took up Nick’s offer to take his bed. It’s not like he actually slept, he just used it for a more comfortable place to sit at night when his chair was too hard to sit on. Elle was fast asleep on her own sheets, still full dressed. She probably tired herself out in worry.

Sunny was still filled with nervous energy, hopping from one foot to another as Codsworth fretted over her. She clearly won’t be getting sleep soon.

Nick sighed. Best get some work done while she was still awake. He pulled off his coat and placed it on her shoulders, hoping the weight would settle her a little.

“Here, kid. At least sit down, I’m getting antsy just watching you.”

“Sorry,” she apologized, and flopped down on the offered chair while Codsworth checked her shoulder for bruising. Nick opened a cabinet drawer and flicked through his files, looking for anything involving Vault-Tec and their metal graves. There wasn’t much, barely enough to fill half a page, but it was something.

“You said your brother is missing, right? Any idea if he ran off on his own or if someone else did the dirty work?”

“Someone else,” Sunny answered immediately, trying to sound calm, “Shaun’s a baby, he can’t even walk yet.”

Nick nodded and switched to a drawer with files on cases with really young kids. Babies weren’t desirable in the slave trade, since it takes so long for them to grow up and be useful, they needed a lot of care, and can easily die from anything. Too much risk, not enough reward. He stacked what few files he had with his Vault-Tec file.

“Any motive that you can think of?, ” Nick continued, “Rogue scientist who couldn’t handle the guilt of freezing a newborn? Crazy neighbor hopped up on Buffout?”

“No. I saw the man who took him. After he killed Mom and Dad, he looked right at me,” she paused, blowing out a shaky breath. “ I’ve never seen him before, and he wasn’t dressed like a scientist. He was dressed like he was from the Commonwealth.”

Taking an empty file and mostly empty pen, he also grabbed a list of known, at-large criminals along with what pitiful information he found. He sat down at his desk. Sunny being a witness wasn’t a good thing, no matter how much easier it would make his job. No kid should see that.

“It’s going to be okay. Do you need a minute, or do you think you can tell me what he looked like?”

#child sole #child! sole survivor #fallout #fallout 4 #fo4 companions #kid sole #kid sole survivor #fallout 4 companions #fallout companions #kid!sole #fo4 nick valentine #nick valentine #fallout 4 nick valentine #child! sole #fo4 nick #Congrats Sunny you have now unlocked Robot dad.#Preston and Nick have spilt custody

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sugar-soda · 1 month ago

Text

Kids Shouldn't be Here: John Hancock

Fallout 4 Platonic Companions x Child! Sole

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence, Child in dangerous situations

Masterlist

______________________________________________________________

Kids were never in Goodneighbor for long.

Diamond City is where families stayed. Where couples went to lay down roots and send their children to school and grow old surrounded by grandkids and loved ones. Goodneighbor was for everyone else. The ghouls, drifters, merchants, chem addicts, and everyone looking for a good not-so-family-friendly time.

The occasional settler would come in with a little one, a brief stop in their search of a place to call home. They would typically only stay the night at Hotel Redford then leave in the morning, their children never being seen between when they show up and leaving. The kid would be left in the locked, rented room while their parents bought supplies. No one complained except anyone unfortunate to be staying in the room under them.

Citizens of Goodneighbor prefered it that way. The lifestyle that they enjoyed had little room for entertaining anyone too young to enjoy a hit of Jet. Many probably didn't even like kids, as patience was not a virtue they possessed. Only a few would be willing to deal with them. Daisy had a soft heart under her hard shell, and wouldn’t mind a settler bringing their children, but none ever had. Kent had started his love for the Silver Shroud when he was very young, and mentioned he hoped he sparked the same love in other youths. Dr. Amari had been called out of the city a few times to check on a kid who had taken a rough fall to the head, or was experiencing memory problems, but those calls were few and far between.

So, when a kid did show up, it was strange…

______________________________________________________________

Mayor John Hancock didn't interact with kids very much. The last time he interacted with one was probably when he was still a stupid teenager, giving one of the Diamond City kids a too rough nougie before he went to find an unsupervised area to get high in.

When he established Goodneighbor, there weren't any kids around. Ghoul kids are rare as hell and he had no business with any settler's kids when they came through.

When he was a kid, John thought teens were annoying and adults were stupid. As a teen, he thought kids were stupid and adults were annoying. As an adult, he realized kids and teens were stupid and adults were really stupid.

Tonight, it was blissfully quiet. He had come down to enjoy a smoke outside the Statehouse with Fahrenheit right beside him. Leaning against the wall, he could hear what few stragglers were still hanging around. With how late it was, almost everyone was down at the Third Rail. Daisy and KL-E-O were still open for another half hour and were quietly bargaining with customers. Anyone else around was either a guard or enjoying a quiet high like he was.

The mentats he took earlier were still effecting his senses. He swore he could hear everything better right now. Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back and took a drag, holding the smoke in for a minute before letting it go. He better enjoy this moment before work inevitably begins again.

The horrible, metallic screech of the entrance broke the silence. John grimaced and made a mental note to get someone to oil the damned thing tomorrow. He kept his eyes closed, refusing to let the moment pass.

“It seems a rook has brought in a pawn.” Fahrenheit stated cryptically.

John hated when she spoke like that. It was chilling when she said it to some pretentious Bunker Hill merchant, but when she did it to him, it was just frustrating. If she wanted to tell him anything while he was high, she couldn’t expect him to get it if she was speaking riddles.

He cracked open one eye slightly. Turns out the creaking door wasn't welcoming another late night drifter, but a group.

Good ol’ Nick Valentine with them. John didn't see much of him nowadays. He would only stop over at Goodneighbor for a case. That at least meant that something interesting was happening. When John was a teenager, the synth detective would regularly catch any misbehavior he was in. He would confiscate any chems or alcohol he had, but he never gossiped about it like anyone else who caught him. Nick would just voice concern over how he was killing himself then leave. John would be mad at the time, but he appreciated it now. He hoped the detective stuck around to catch up.

There was a Mr. Handy, too. A neat little bowler hat sat on its head like Whitechapel Charlie, though he doubted he had the same custom accent his bartender had.

The third member of the party made John put his full attention on them. Nick had brought an actual fucking kid to Goodneighbor.

The kid had a sniper rifle and a duffle bag thrown over her shoulder. Leather armor that wasn’t made for such a small body covered her arms and torso, but it didn't do much to cover the blue and yellow vault suit. The Pip-boy didn't help John's confusion. Twin braids swung as she swiveled her head to look around.

Whatever case she was part of, Nick probably had it handled. No need for him to stick his non-existent nose in detective business.

“Guess I'll have to tell Charlie to keep Nuka on hand, unless you wanna be on drunk toddler duty?,” he half-joked. Charlie's age recognition component had actually busted about three years ago and they never got around to fixing it, since it wasn't normally an issue. To the Mr. Handy, the Vaultie would look no different than any other patron.

Fahrenheit scoffed and John leaned his head back, ready to take another hit, when Finn's grating voice scratched in his ears and broke the silence worse than the rusted door did.

Finn was on the really, really stupid end of the spectrum. Always squawking and harassing any newcomers and getting on the mayor’s last nerve.

John focused on their conversation, but stayed put. Finn went into his lie about the Vaultie needing “insurance” with so little charm or charisma that John would have thought he was a predator rather than an asshole.

“Thanks for the offer, pal, but we'll be just fine,” Nick spat out the word ‘pal’ like a curse. He pulled the kid's arm gently, placing her behind him and acting as a barrier between her and Finn. The detective could be pretty intimating if he wanted to. He was full six feet tall when most had trouble reaching five foot eight, had exposed wires and steel frame that won't break easy like bones do, and a yellow glare that went straight through your soul. Smart men would know to just leave the synth alone and take the loss.

“I wasn't talkin’ to you, synth. I was talkin’ to the kid,” Finn was not a smart man.

The Mr. Handy spoke then, “The young Miss has no business with you, sir. Take your scam elsewhere, as you'll get no caps from us today.” Ha. Called it, no custom accent.

The Vaultie said something then, but it was too quiet for him to hear her. The mentats must be wearing off.

Finn must have not heard her either, because his temper flared and his volume rose, “ What'd you say, you little bitch?”. His hand reached for his pistol. Looks like John needed to step in now.

“Whoa, whoa. Time out,” he interrupted, “Nick Valentine makes a rare visit to town, and you're hassling his friend here with that extortion crap? Lay off, she’s just a kid.” He gave a quick nod toward the synth. “Good to see you again, Nick.”

“Hancock,” he replied flatly.

Finn clenched his jaw and gritted his teeth. Looks like he was already on edge tonight. Someone else must have already called him out on his bullshit.

“What d'you care? She ain't one of us,” Finn Sasser, puffing his chest out like he was an animal trying to intimate John. He wasn't.

John had always been a shorter guy, and becoming a ghoul made him look skinny as hell, though Dr. Amari had assured him the weight loss was from the loss of his skin and that he was a normal weight for a ghoul his size. Point was, John Hancock didn't strike a physically imposing figure, so he was used to fighting taller assholes who were itching for a fight.

Ain't one of them come back for seconds either.

“No love for your mayor, Finn?” He warned, “I said let her go.”

That seemed to irritate Finn even more. “You're soft, Hancock. You keep letting outsiders walk all over us, one day there'll be a new mayor.”

Yep. That was it. Time for Finn to go.

John grinned, “Come on, man. This is me we're talking about. Let me tell you something.” He reached into his coat with one hand as he placed his other on Finn's shoulder. Pulling Finn down, he flicked out his knife and drove it into the man's stomach, repeating the motion a few times for good measure. All of the air in Finn's body left in a quiet, pained grunt before John let his corpse fall like a sack of tatos. The kid made a noise that was a mix of fear and shock and gripped Nick's sleeve for comfort.

“Now why'd you have to go and say that, huh? Breaking my heart over here.”

Slipping his knife back into its hidden sheath, Hancock put his full attention back on his guests. Nick's glare had turned into one of exasperation and the Mr.Handy's eyes were narrowed in on him as a new threat. The Vaultie's eyes were full of fear, respect, and a little bit of relief. Looks like he had done the right thing, at least as far as he was concerned.

“Sorry, Nick. You know I'd prefer to give you a warmer welcome, but some people just don't know how to roll out the welcome mat,” he greeted.

“Well, I should know better than to be surprised at casual stabbings in Goodneighbor by now,” Nick replied. “Though, I think you gave the wrong first impression to my client here.”

The kid's grip hadn't let up on the synth's sleeve. Any harder and she would rip it.

John stepped a bit closer and held out his hand. “You all right, sister?” he asked. He didn't know how long this kid had been out of the vault, but judging by her gear, he guessed this wasn't her first time seeing a dead body.

She blinked a few times, as if processing what happened, then finally snapped back into reality to answer. “Yeah, I'm…I'm fine, just wasn't expecting that. Thank you for your help, sir,” She said before taking his hand and shaking it.

Damn, this kid was tall. Standing next to Nick, she looked around average height for a child, but standing closer showed John he only had a few inches on her. He knew he wasn't the tallest guy in the Commonwealth but shit. What were her parents feeding her?

“Good. Now don't let this incident taint your view of our little community,” John put on his least threatening smile. “Goodneighbor's of the people, for the people, you feel me? Everyone's welcome.”

“I feel you. You're the Mayor here?” She asked, tilting her head.

John's smile spread a little wider. “ Heh. Got a good pair of ears on ya. Mayor John Hancock, leader of this little slice of chaos.”

The girl smiled a little, amused at John's introduction. “Sunny Roberts, and this is Codsworth.” She released his hand to gesture at the Mr. Handy, whose eyes were still targeting John. Not everyone likes the zombie look, he guesses.

Backing up, John said his farewell to Nick, “Don't be a stranger, brother. You can visit outside of detective work, ya know?”

“Not this time, Hancock. I'll buy you a round next time to make up for it,” Nick promised, rolling his eyes fondly.

John laughed. “I'll hold you to it.” He looked back at Sunny. “You stay cool, kid, and you'll be part of the neighborhood. So long as you remember who's in charge.”

She gave a serious nod. “Yes, sir, Mayor Hancock.”

Tipping his hat, Hancock turned and sauntered back toward the Statehouse. Break time was over.

“Our men could take a few lessons in respect from her,” Fahrenheit said, falling into step behind him. “And manners.”

“Heh. If our reputation and the fact we pay them don't teach ‘em respect, nothing will.” As the doors to the Statehouse closed, he held his chin in mock thought. “ Say, how old ya think the kid is?”

Fahrenheit was silent for a second, then answered, “Twelve, she hasn't hit puberty yet.”

“Naaah. She has to be like fifteen, sixteen. You saw how tall she was? Give her a year or two and she'll be taller than both of us.” John put his hands behind his head. “I bet fifty caps she's at least fourteen.”

“I'll take that bet.”

______________________________________________________________

John didn't actually expect to hear about or see Sunny again, but three days later, Publik Occurrences had an article all about the young girl. He had his men run and get one every time a new article was made, so he could either keep up to date with news that could threaten Goodneighbor, or laugh at Piper's more wild articles.

This latest one was all about the kid with a sniper rifle he had met, who turned out to have been a popsicle not too long ago. Fahrenheit and him got into an argument over the caps he owed her. He said that both of them were wrong, as neither of them guessed Sunny was two hundred twelve-years-old. Fahrenheit said the years in the freezer didn't count and that she won the bet. While John didn't exactly agree, she took her caps anyway.

He saw Vaultie again a week after that first meeting. Nick was still with her, but Codsworth had been switched out with Piper Wright herself. He had only seen them enter the town and given a wave before a meeting with Bunkerhill merchants called him in.

A later check-in with the Third Rail revealed she had met Ham, Magnolia, and Charlie that day. Ham had only let her in on the fact that she was there on business, investigating a runaway who was friends with Mags, and a promise not to drink any alcohol, as Ham didn't want to deal with a drunk pre-teen.

Which was a promise she kept, as Whitechapel Charlie reported that she had only bought a Nuka-Cola to get him to answer questions. John had let out a quick sigh of relief at that, as he completely forgot to tell the robot not to sell alcohol to the kid. That relief was short-lived as Charlie then informed him he had hired Sunny to clear out the storehouses. A job he deeply regretted delegating now.

Magnolia was more put out than the Mayor over this information, as she had nothing but nice things to say about Sunny. How polite and sweet she was and how it was so nice to have an audience member sober through her entire set. She had threatened Charlie, saying if the kid got hurt, she would scrap him for parts herself.

John was thoroughly surprised to find the storehouses cleared out two days later.

Outside of Nick, Piper, and Codsworth, she had a whole host of people in her rotating roster of companions. There was Dogmeat, who John had met before when the pooch was sniffing around Nick's heels. There was a Minuteman, Preston Garvey, who was a bit too straight laced for his taste, but seemed like a nice guy. And there was a Brotherhood of Steel guy, Paladin What's-his-face, that Sunny seemed to lose more and more patience for everytime she brought him along.

She also had somehow found time to hire McCready at some point in her trip to the Third Rail, as he vacated the backroom and was next seen with Sunny leading an assaultron who had been modified to dispense ice-cold beer down the streets. When asked, Sunny told him she had been hired to retrieve it and take it to the hotel.

About two and a half weeks after that, John had been looking for someone to check out the Pickman Gallery. While he had never been there himself, the rumors of the place were chilling, and it was just a little too close for comfort for him to ignore. The kid must have overheard him talking about it at some point, because she came up to the Statehouse with a knife and a disgusting painting made of blood as proof of the place being cleared out. Apparently, the guy had been draining raiders like a vampire for his ‘art’, and the whole building was full of paintings like that one. After he paid the kid, he burned the probably haunted painting, sent a group of men to clear out the gallery for his own piece of mind, and gave Fahrenheit an order to make sure the kid wouldn’t take anymore of his “jobs”.

After that fiasco, the kid seemed to be everywhere. Diamond City Radio news started to be filled with stories of “the Kid who won't Die”, “the Child of Death”, and “the Sole Survivor”, which was the name that stuck. Outside of Piper's article, the Commonwealth seemed to forget her actual name. Sometimes, Sunny was just called “Sole”. When he wasn't hearing about her and her companions over the radio, one of his citizens had something to tell him about her.

Daisy told him about how she had given a long overdue book to the kid, and how she offhandedly mentioned how bad she felt about not returning it and how awful it was that the place was overtaken by supermutants. Sunny returned three days later, slightly singed, with a return token and the news she had cleared the place out. And it was.

She had met Kent and turned his one man fan club into a duo as she was a fan of the Silver Shroud as well. They both somehow convinced Preston to wear a Silver Shroud costume and take down some criminals as the crusader. He had to hold back his snickers when talking to the man, but they actually did a pretty good job. Then Kent got kidnapped and they had to go rescue him. After they all got out, John sadly didn't see anymore of the Silver Shroud.

The eternally bitter ex-Vault-Tec Rep had finally moved out of Hotel Redford. The Roberts family had coincidentally been the last family he signed up for Vault 111 before the bombs fell and he had been denied the safety he had sold others. When she was visiting to see if they could get the beer dispenser to dispense Nuka-Cola, the ghoul recognized her and there was a confrontation. According to some of the hotel's patrons, there had been some yelling and Paladin What's-his-face had to hold the man back from Sunny. After that, she had offered for him to come live in Sanctuary and start a new life. When he left, it was the first time John had seen him smile.

______________________________________________________________

Paper work was never John's favorite thing to do, but it was better than meetings, so he didn't complain as much (he still complained, just less than when he had meetings).

That didn't mean he didn't take every excuse he could to get out of it. It was midday and almost everyone was taking a break for lunch. Fahrenheit was off doing who knows what, so he had taken the opportunity to sit down and get high in peace.

He held the hit of Jet in for a moment before letting it go. The first hit was always the best, but he was a long way from getting truly high.

John startled as a sharp knock broke the silence in the room and he fumbled to not drop his Jet. “Dammit! What?”

A guard stuck his head in and said, “The Sole Survivor is here. She says she needs to talk to you.”

He must have taken a bigger hit than he thought, because John had trouble getting his brain to work. “What?” He said, pushing himself off the couch and starting toward the front of the building. Why would the kid need to talk to him? Last time he directly spoke to her was during the Silver Shroud adventure, and that was a few weeks ago. Most of the conversation had been between Preston and him.

Sure enough, there she was. Dogmeat and Paladin What's-his-face were with her today. Her old leather armor had been sold and replaced with combat armor, though it still fit awkwardly as it was made for a fully grown adult. Even the dog got some new goggles and little doggie armor.

She had her back turned toward him as she glared at the Brotherhood soldier. Whatever they were talking about, the discussion had clearly turned sour. It was honestly comical, some big man in power armor arguing with a little girl and her puppy. John hoped Sunny won, just for comedic effect.

“As a Brotherhood squire-”

“As a Brotherhood PALADIN-” Sunny cut him off, “-you are supposed to protect me and help strengthen the Minuteman alliance, Paladin Danse. Yet all you have done is been a jackass and make everything worse.”

“That is insubordi-” Paladin Danse tried to snap, but Sunny wasn't going to give him any ground.

“It STOPPED being insubordination when your leadership made everything worse at the Slog and at Graygarden. Those are Minuteman allies and you directly threatened-”

John coughed loudly. As entertaining as it was, it looked like Sunny was ready to physically fight the Paladin with her bare hands, and that was a fight he didn't want in the Statehouse.

Sunny whirled around, her lips pressed in a tight line. “Mayor Hancock! I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come down. I hope I didn't interrupt anything important,” She apologized. A light blush was creeping up her face, clearly embarrassed being caught mid-argument.

“Ehh, depends on what you find important. Nothing that can't wait for the great ‘Sole Survivor’,” he quipped.

Sunny grimaced at the nickname. “Oh, you heard it, too?”

John barked a laugh, “Haha! Only the entire Commonwealth has, sister. Better get used to the fame. Come on, join me in the office and you can tell me what's so important.”

Sunny started to follow, paused, then turned back to her companions. “Stay. Here,” She snarled through gritted teeth at Paladin Danse. Her gaze softened when looking at Dogmeat and she gave him an affectionate rub on the head. “Make sure he doesn't cause any trouble, okay boy?,” She said before following John, leaving the Paladin to stew in annoyance over being babysat by a dog.

Sunny sat on the couch in the office very politely, with her hands folded neatly in her lap and very deliberately not mentioning the smell of cigarettes and drugs that seemed to choke the air in the room.

“Ya want anything to eat?,” John offered as he swiped a Fancy Lad for himself. No use in going into this conversation with the munchies. He would have offered her something to drink, but all he had was vodka, wine, beer, and more vodka. The only time he drank something nonalcoholic was when Fahrenheit poured water down his throat during a hangover.

“No thank you. I already ate with Miss Daisy earlier,” She said. After Sunny had cleared the library and given the poor woman a heart attack, Sunny had become a regular shopper at the store, as the settlement she lived in didn't have a regular supply store yet, and she disliked the one in Diamond City.

“Suit yourself,” John shrugged, “what can I help ya with, kid?”

“It's about one of the citizens.”

John drew in a hiss. He really hoped this wasn't going where he thinks it's going. “They didn't…do anything to ya, did they?”

Sunny shook her head vigorously. Looks like he didn't have to cut anyone's balls off today. “No, no. It's not that kind of issue. No one here has tried to do anything to me since you stabbed Finn when I first visited,” She assured.

“ That's good to hear. Who's got you so concerned then?” He took another Fancy Lad. Not the most healthy lunch, but he never liked salads anyway.

“Bobbi No-Nose,” She stated.

That made more sense in why she was here. While no one in Goodneighbor had a squeaky clean record, Bobbi had a habit of causing trouble specifically designed to give others headaches. In the past few years, she hasn't been happy with John's control over Goodneighbor and made herself a constant thorn in his side because of it.

“Ol’ No-Nose? She ain’t no fan of mine, but she’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“She wants me to help rob you.”

The Fancy Lad caught in John’s throat. Serves him right for not taking care of the slimy bitch sooner, now she’s trying to get a kid mixed up on her crimes. “Excuse me?”

“First she told me that she was breaking into one of Diamond City’s warehouses. She said that they put all of the former resident belongings in there and that she wanted to take them back, but that didn’t sound right. Why would they put things in a storehouse to rot instead of just selling it for a profit, or using it, or even breaking it down for parts. After a bit, she admitted that she and her associate were breaking into one of your warehouses.”

John ran a hand down his face, already tired of this bullshit. Did this woman really try to tell the most obvious lie in the world to the world’s most observant, rule-abiding, dangerous middle schooler? If the next sentence that came out of her mouth was that she shot the ghoul for trying to break the law, or that she came right here after the offer, he wouldn’t be surprised by either reaction.

“I told her I would think about it, then came right here.” Called it. “I don’t know how she’s planning on getting in, or who her accomplice is, but she told me they needed someone small to get to certain areas, and the day she plans on doing the heist. I thought it was best to tell you all this and see what you wanted to do.”

Fuck. If Bobbi had been doing it solo, he could just bust her door down and take care of the bitch himself, but her accomplice could still go through with the heist if Bobbi kicks the bucket, and he had no idea on how they planned on doing it in the first place.

“Alright, sister,” John sighed, forming a quick, basic plan, “You tell me when this heist is happening, then I want you to go back to No-Nose and tell her that you accept the job. I’m gonna send extra men to guard my warehouses. Keep ya head down so you don’t get shot. After that, I’ll need to know how she got in so I can shut it down for good. Ya got that?”

“Yes, sir,” she said, giving another serious nod like she had when they first met.

“Okay,” John said, standing and stretching his back. “Break time’s over. Thanks for the warning, kid.” as he walked past, he gave Sunny’s hair a quick ruffle. Didn’t know why he did it, but it felt right at that moment, so he did.

Sunny gave a big smile that shone just like her namesake and stood up. “Thanks, Mayor Hancock! Have a nice day. I’ll see you after Bobbi’s been taken care of.” Then off she went, leaving his office in complete silence again.

John gave a lazy wave as he sat down at his desk. Pulling out a case of mentats, he popped one in his mouth and rolled it around his tongue, staring at the door Sunny had left wide open.

Heh. She was a good kid.

______________________________________________________________

John was pissed.

He hadn’t been exactly sure how Bobbi was planning on getting in the warehouse. Maybe she found an opening in the guards’ schedule or her accomplice had more influence than the average joe. Whatever theory he came up with, he couldn’t think of a way Sunny would be needed. He definitely wasn’t expecting them to tunnel into the warehouse.

According to Farheinheit, when they popped out of the ground, no one got shot. Sunny had convinced Bobbi and her accomplice to leave Goodneighboor for good instead of dying. While Ferheinheit and himself were put off by the lack of bloodshed, the goods in the warehouse were still there and No-Nose wouldn’t be bothering him again. Happy ending for all, right?

So why was he so annoyed at the situation? He puffed on a cigarette in thought as Farheinheit finished her report and left. There was once upon a time where he would have loved to be part of a heist like that, but now he wanted to put a bullet through Bobbi for trying to pull a fast one on him. He could say it was because it was a personal slight to insult his intelligence by trying to rob him in broad daylight, but he knew the real reason.

He was getting too comfortable in power. Here he was condemning his critics for doing the same thing he did back in Diamond City. He was itching to hunt down Bobbi and make an example of her, but an example of what? Of the fact he has forgotten his own sins and is now killing his own people? That he doesn’t do his own dirty work and left a kid to deal with it? That he was a tyrant?

Fahrenheit opened the door again, “Sir, the Sole Survivor is here.”

“Just call me Sunny, please. I already hear that name enough from settlers.”

Sunny entered, ducking under his bodyguard’s arm to get through. He could hear Mac and Piper’s voices faintly from downstairs, cutting up with one of his guards. Sunny herself looked the same as always, but was covered in a faint layer of dry dirt, giving her the look of a carpenter or farmer.

“Hello, Mayor Hancock. I showed your men the entrance to the tunnel in No-Nose’s house. They are trying to figure out the most secure way to close it. I found a broken suit of power armor that got down there somehow and the guards said that it wasn’t worth fixing ‘cause of the missing pieces. So we moved it to Daisy’s for the Minutemen to come pick it up, unless you want it of course.”

She kept talking, but John wasn’t listening. Sunny was definitely more morally upright than him, but she was fair. If you tried to kill, she would kill you. (Though he hadn’t personally seen her in a fight yet, his men reported Pickman and a whole group of raiders dead at the gallery.) She wasn’t going to kill for talking shit, like he did Finn, or for theft, like he wanted to do to Bobbi, but there were consequences. If you were good to her, she was good back. She was polite, speaking to him by his title and all that bureaucratic stuff. Sunny helped without being asked, but spat venom if she thought someone was wrong. She had looked death in the eye more than once and somehow survived. There were a lot of things he could say about the kid, but the most important part was that she was free.

She had a lot to learn about how the Commonwealth worked, but she was doing a damned good job of forcing it to learn how she worked. She was the most free person he had seen in a while. She went where she wanted despite her guardians' protests, made decisions how she wanted, said what she wanted, and helped not for payment, but because she wanted to. She had no power over anyone but herself, and that made her more powerful and respectable at twelve than most were at fifty. People listened to her because she had no desire to control them, just a desire to be a good person, and people responded to that, even if the baby face and braids had made many hesitant. The respect she had gained was out of awe of youth and trust of innocence, and now John feared he was commanding respect not from a sense of justice and freedom, but out of fear and control.

“Sorry ya got mixed up in all of this, short stack,” he cut her off.

Sunny wasn’t bothered. “No-Nose was the one to ask me in the first place. It’s not your fault. Sorry we blew up your floor.”

“That reminds me,” John said, leaning back in his chair. “We got to talk about paying off the damages you caused to the building. You did a lot of damage to the foundation.”

Sunny frowned thoughtfully. “How much do I owe?”

He bit his tongue, trying to hold back laughter. “Twenty thousand caps.”

Sunny’s eyes widened. “Is there any work I can do to pay it off? I don’t have that kind of money right now.”

John couldn’t hold it in and burst into laughter, “Pfft. The look on your face. Forget the money. Chump change,” he stood up from his seat as Sunny let out a sigh of relief. Like he said, she still had a lot to learn. “Lemme tell ya, sister. This classy little tricorner hat of mine is getting heavy. Am I turning into the man? Some kind of tyrant? I spend all my time putting down the people I would've been proud to scheme with just a few years ago. I need to take a walk again. Get a grip on what really matters: Living free. And you seem to be a pretty free bird.”

“Are you saying you want to leave Goodneighbor…and follow me around?” Sunny looked confused as she tilted her head. “,But aren’t you their leader? Why would you want to leave?”

“For one, Bobbi almost pulled a job on me. That means I'm getting too comfortable. Need to get out there and hone the razor. For two, Goodneighbor is about doing your own thing. I’d still be in charge, don’t get me wrong. The mayor's still the mayor, whether he's "in residence" or not. I've walked out of here plenty of times. Keeps me honest. Can't let power get to my head. That's not what being in charge of Goodneighbor is about. If I don't leave every once and a while, the power's gonna change me. Can't have that. Besides, you might just be the right kind of trouble with everything you get yourself mixed up in? Can’t let the young ones have all the fun, now can I?”

Sunny ignored Fahreheit’s comment of John “,Only being in your thirties. You're not that old.”

“Well, if you are willing to help, who am I to say no?” she gave a toothy grin.

Returning it with one of his own, John headed toward the doors to the balcony. “Let me just have a little chat with my community, first. Give them the news. Then we can get this show on the road.”

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sugar-soda · 4 months ago

Text

Kids Shouldn't be Here: Piper Wright

Fallout 4 Platonic Companions x Child! Sole

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence, Child in dangerous situations

Masterlist

______________________________________________________________

Diamond City wasn't always the perfect place to raise a kid.

Sure, there were a lot of pros to the place. Big sturdy wall to keep the rest of the Commonwealth out, plenty of food and shelter, and plenty of services that you couldn't get anywhere else, like haircuts and a year round doctor. Hell, they even had a school. So many in the Commonwealth couldn't even read and the children of Diamond City got to learn that along with science, math, and history. So yes, there were some good reasons to have a kid there.

If anyone were to ask about this to the Mayor, he would puff up like a peacock and proudly state that “children were the Commonwealth's future,” and “it takes a city to raise a child,” and other nonsense like he was still campaigning for office.

If you were to ask someone who was not the Mayor, they would tell you that the city was nice, but it still had problems.

For one thing, with 2 bars and a chems dealer right in the market, there were plenty of chances for any kid looking for mischief to swipe a Mentat or a bottle of beer when no one is looking. Dr. Sun had taken to meticulous combing through his inventory everyday to make sure he didn't become a target of little, sticky fingers as well.

While they didn't have to worry about their kid being killed, the concerns were replaced e with others that were almost pre-war in nature. After all, they couldn't attach their child to the hip like in small settlements, so the children were left to run amuck with no supervision between school letting out and their parents coming home. Between those times the adults would worry.

Did their kid do their assigned reading? Would they eat their tatos for dinner later or would they insist on surviving off of sugar bombs and snack cakes? What if they fell and hurt themselves on the rusty, dirty metal that made up most of the city and get an infection? Were they leaving poor Sheffield in peace? Were the other kids playing nice?

Those ran through their minds until they could go home.

The suspension was also something everyone dealt with. The Institute had rooted itself into everyone's mind as the Commonwealth's boogeyman, and no one could sleep at night anymore. Anyone could be kidnapped and replaced by an identical synth, so anyone could be a threat. Trust was in short supply, so there would never be that sense of community other settlements had. Every man was for himself. But no good man could go without his children.

____________________________________________________________

If you were to ask Piper Wright, she would say she is great with kids. After all, she raised her sister Nat, and she's great in Piper's biased opinion. Nat was smart, sassy, and incredibly self-sufficient. Piper liked to think she made Dad proud with how she raised Nat.

As self-sufficient as her sister is, that doesn't mean Piper thought she could live entirely on her own. Which is exactly why Danny needed to stop screwing around and open the gate!

“Danny, I swear to God, if you don't open this gate and let me in you will be sorry. I’m standing out here in the open for God’s sake!”

“I got orders to not let you in, Ms. Piper. I’m sorry. I’m just doing my job. The mayor’s pretty steamed about your last article. Said it was nothing but lies”

Ah. Right. In hindsight, accusing McDonough of being a synth was probably going to get her in trouble. But not like this! She thought she'd get another lecture she wouldn't listen to or a fine she'd never pay.

She left the city this morning to interview a few guards on duty. The barracks nowadays were too small and the guards too many. So her next article was a push to expand their barracks up into the stands. The rich folk already living up there will complain about “ruffians” being in the stands, even if they would be on the opposite side of the city, so she had to get everyone else on the same page to get the expansion approved. Which she couldn't do if she couldn't go home!

“God damn it, Danny! You can't just lock me out! I live here!” Piper slammed her hand against the speaker.

As Danny told her to lie low for a few days and let the Mayor cool down, she caught the tiniest movement to her left. She squinted against the harsh afternoon sun and saw a rather…odd group was making way toward the entrance.

The most notable was the Mr. Handy, or Miss Nanny, she never could really tell the difference. While Diamond City had its own share of non-humanoid robots and she herself had gotten a few drinks from Whitechapel Charlie when visiting Goodneighbor for a story, all of them were in cities, places where there was supplies and space to do maintenance to keep them running smoothly. Seeing them out of the city normally meant to turn tail and run as it shot lasers and tried to make you into minced meat with its saw blade. This one, luckily, didn't seem like it was crazy. It floated gently alongside its companions, keeping its three eyes on a swivel.

The second was a man. Judging by his militia hat, he was a Minuteman. Huh. She thought they were all gone after Quincy. That tragedy had destroyed a lot of people's faith in the cause. Piper was the first in Diamond City to hear about it, having heard about it from Mayor Hancock himself while visiting Goodneighbor. She cried her way through a whole pack of cigarettes before typing up the article. Like hell she was gonna let McDonough tell the city first and try to spin all those deaths into some Diamond-City-Superiority propaganda bullshit.

He tried when he made a speech about two days after she made Nat hand deliver a copy to everyone in Diamond City. By then everyone knew what happened. It was the least she could do.

Her eyes narrowed in suspension. If he was alive now, there was a high chance he was one of the ones who didn't respond when the emergency call happened. Coward. She would have to keep an eye on him.

The last person had her back to her, with a duffle bag slung across her shoulders and a pale purple ribbon holding any hairs that escaped her messy twin braids out of her face. A sharp looking sniper rifle accompanied the duffle bag. Looks like she was just a kid, judging by the height difference. Strange. She didn't share any physical traits with the Minuteman, so Piper wouldn't guess they were related. Unless they were distantly related, or the kid was adopted, or maybe they were related through marriage?

The Minuteman stopped to talk to a guard, likely asking about the city. The girl shifted on her feet, obviously impatient to go. The duffle bag moved and revealed a tiny shoulder wrapped in blue and gold numbers across her back.

So the kid was a vault dweller then. That kinda made sense. She probably was sent out to do trading for supplies and the Minuteman was likely her guard and the Mr. Handy was probably from the vault too.

Piper wrinkles her nose in distaste. Why would they send someone so young? Someone older wouldn't get scammed to hell and back at least.

Piper hadn't realized she was staring until the kid started staring back. Those big eyes seemed to stare into her soul, full of curiosity and questions. Just what Piper needed. While Danny always tried to follow orders, he could be a bit of a soft touch for kids. She's seen him sneaking books he bought from traders into the school. His bleeding heart was her ticket in.

“Psst. Hey, kid.” Piper tried to keep her voice at a volume where the speaker wouldn't pick her up. The girl looked around to see who she was addressing before pointing at herself quizzically.

“Yes, you. Come here.”

The girl peaked over at her guard, who was still talking. At some point, the Mr. Handy had joined the conversation, leaving her in the clear. She silently shuffled over and leaned closer.

“You wanna get into Diamond City, right?” The Vault Dweller nodded quickly, large eyes still unblinking. “Play along. I'll get us both in.” Piper leaned back toward the speaker, raising her voice exaggeratedly. “What's that, kid? You're here all on your own? What about your parents?”

Luckily, the kid picked up on Piper's plan. “ Oh, my parents are…they're gone,”

“ You hear that, Danny? You really going to leave a little kid out here, all alone, surrounded by raiders, and super mutants, and ferals and-”

“Okay, okay! Geez Piper, way to lay on the guilt trip. I'll open the gate up but McDonough better not be on my ass about this.”

A loud beep resounded out and Piper couldn't help but feel smug. That feeling didn’t last long as Mayor McDonough was already there, sour expression making even a radroach look pleasant.

“Piper! Who let you back inside? I told Sullivan to keep that gate shut! You devious, rabble-rousing slanderer! The-the level of dishonesty in that paper of yours! I'll have that printer scrapped for parts.”

God, this man made her blood boil. It was like his voice was nails on a chalkboard every time he opened his mouth. “ Oooh, that's a statement, Mr. McDonough? ‘Tyrant mayor shuts down the press?’ Why don’t we ask the newcomer, huh? Do you support the news? Cause the Mayor is threatening to throw free speech in the dumpster.”

McDonough seemed to just register the kid, who had stopped her trek inside to wait for the Minuteman and Mr. Handy, who had finished talking to the guard. She clearly wasn’t expecting someone to drag her into the argument, startling at being addressed.

“Piper! You can’t expect a child to understand the delicate situati-”

“My dad always said that politicians who try to control the press are the ones who know that they are doing something wrong.”

Piper barely held back the sputtering laugh. She wasn’t expecting such a harsh reply to the Mayor but it was sure funny.

McDonough quickly tried to pivot back to his ‘for the people’ persona as the Minuteman and Mr. Handy joined them.

“Oh, I didn’t mean for you to get involved with our argument, young miss. No, no, no, why you and your father look like Diamond City material,” McDonough said. His eyes were glued to the Mr. Handy, knowing that if they could afford to keep a Mr. Handy while on the road, they likely could afford to stay a while.

The Vaultie squinted at him confused. “Father?” she asked, before realizing, “Oh, you mean Mr. Preston? He’s not my dad, he’s just a friend.” The Minuteman stepped forward and held his hand out to shake the Mayor’s hand, but his expression could best be described as thinly veiled annoyance. “Preston Garvey, Commonwealth Minutemen. I escorted Miss Sunny here from a new settlement up North.”

Ha. Called it. Piper knew they couldn’t be related, though now she wonders how recently the Vault opened, if it had started a new settlement and she hadn’t heard about it. Vault dwellers typically didn't like to leave their underground homes, even if they did open for trade. At least that's what the folks in Vault 81 did, from what she heard.

The mayor at least had the decency to look embarrassed by his assumption, a faint blush dusting across his face before he tried to cover it with a cough.

“Ahem, well, I can assure you that the trip will be more than worth it. Diamond City has all the finest comforts: a safe, comfortable place to rest your head, great food, and anything you could dream of can be found in our fine market stalls. Was there anything in particular that you were looking for, young miss?”

Garvey’s face shifted slightly from annoyance to sympathy, focusing on the girl (he said her name was Sunny, right?) who’s expression dropped from a polite, neutral face to fragile, fearful hope. Even the Mr. Handy seemed sad, which was almost impressive given its lack of face. Whatever they were here for, Piper guessed it wasn’t a shopping spree in the market.

“We were informed this would be the best place to look for help in finding a missing person,” the Mr. Handy said, posh British accent clear as the day he came off the assembly line. Damn. Another missing person? That would make 4 in as many months. And that would only count the ones Piper knew about. Who knew if anyone else had been taken and replaced by a perfect look alike. The ones not replaced just added to the fear of who had been, and if they could trust them should they ever return. A city filled with suspicion but no help. Diamond City Security wouldn’t hear anything about missing people and any complaints to the Mayor were tossed in the trash. Piper would know, she dug through it. “An infant boy was taken from Vault 111 and we are most fearful of what could have happened to him.”

“He’s my baby brother,” Sunny said, her voice cracking like she was about to cry “His name is Shaun. He’s only a few months old and I need to find him but I don’t know where else to look.” Piper’s heart broke for the girl. She was so young, she couldn’t be older than Nat. She didn’t want to imagine her sister out by herself out here in the wastes. And she was looking for her brother? A baby? The whole situation was heartbreaking.

Crap. That line she said about her parents being gone wasn't just a fib was it? Now Piper just felt like an ass.

McDonough's attempt at looking sympathetic was unsuccessful, so he just looked uncomfortable. “I'm sorry, Miss. But Diamond City Security simply doesn't have the time to look into every missing person's case. I'm afraid they're too busy to look for your brother.”

Sunny crumbled and tears started flowing. “You mean we came all this way for nothing?” Garvey looked pissed, opening his mouth to start spitting fire at the useless Mayor, but Piper, in her rage and experience yelling at the spineless bastard, beat him to the proverbial punch.

“Seriously, McDonough? A kid crosses the Commonwealth looking for an infant and you tell her you can't spare one guard to help! What the fuck!”

Sensing the danger he was in from the reporter and Minuteman, McDonough tried to cover himself, “However, there is a private citizen who might be willing to help. Nick Valentine. A…detective of sorts. He specializes in tracking people down. I'm sure he'll be happy to take your case.” That did little to comfort the kid as she kept crying and hiccuping.

“Hey,” Piper said, stepping in front of the girl and leaning down to be closer to eye level with her. “ I know ol’ Nicky myself. He's the best in the business. He'll find your brother, I know he will. Come on now, dry those tears. You can't see your way to his office with blurry eyes.”

Sunny nodded, as she tried to wipe her eyes and nose, even as more tears gathered in her eyes. The Mr. Handy placed a gentle claw on her head. “Come now, Miss Sunny. You can't go into a new city with the sniffles. You need to make a good impression.”

As he fussed over her appearance, Preston said, “Thank you for the help with the Mayor. I don't think he would have given us any information if you didn't put pressure on him.”

“Aww, it's nothing. Giving McDonough a hard time is part of my job. I'm Piper Wright. I write Publik Occurrences articles.” She offered her hand. From the corner of her eye, she caught Mayor McDonough just as he fled up the stairs. The Mayor of Diamond City, folks! Makes kids cry and leaves you to clean up the mess.

Preston smiled, “Oh, so that's what that yelling was about,”

“Well, not everyone wants to know the truth. But don't let me bore you with my job. You’re here to see Valentine, right?” She took a quick glance over him, trying to see if there were numbers on his coat or any significant markers of which Minuteman company he was part of. She didn't know exactly how Minuteman identified each other, but she knew only one company responded to Concord's call for help. Colonel Holis was their leader, she thinks. If Piper could figure out which company he was in, she could know if she could trust him to not tuck tail and run at the first sign of trouble.

“That will be our first stop after we get supplies, though we could use some directions. This is my first time in the city.”

“Sure thing,” Piper agreed, “follow me. Won't get anything done standing in the entrance.”

“Sunny,” Preston said “come on, I want you to stay in my sights the entire time we are here,”

“Ok, Mr. Preston,” She said, drying the last of her tears. Her face was still red and puffy and downtrodden but she was calmer now. Holding on to one of the Mr. Handy's arms, she was gently led to join them toward the steps.

As they walked, Sunny looked at Piper, “Thank you for helping us get in, Miss Piper. Sorry we got you in trouble.”

Piper smiled gently at the girl, “Don't worry about it, I was already in trouble with him. You guys didn't do anything.”

Sunny and the Mr. Handy crossed the threshold first and stopped to stare. “Wooow,” Sunny drawed out, “it looks really different from before, Codsworth.”

“Quite different,” the Mr. Handy, who Piper now knew was Codsworth, replied, “but I do believe that the change is not all that bad. It has quite a lot of character if I do say so myself!”

“Welcome to Diamond City,” Piper grinned and pointed down to Nat yelling out the headlines, “ See that girl down there? That's my sister, Nat. She can give you a good run-down of the place if you ask.”

Sunny looked over at Preston, silently asking for permission before taking off once he gave it. Nat immediately jumped into her sales pitch, but Piper knew she would be excited about a new kid when she got out of “work mode”. Even if she did have a robot following her around.

“So, Preston,” Piper started, her eyes not leaving the pair as they talked, “I'm surprised you've never been here before. I thought being a Minuteman meant you got to travel all over.”

Preston started going down the steps at a slow pace as he answered. “Typically, you are right. I've been everywhere from Bunker Hill to the edge of the Glowing Sea. I guess Diamond City is just so well protected, it never needed to call for help.”

She continued pressing. “Anyplace interesting? I've only been as far as Goodneighbor and that only takes half a day.” She needed to know if this guy had really ignored Quincy's need for help or had just not been told by his superiors. If he really did turn his back on the settlement, Piper was sure he'd do the same to the kid.

“In recent memory? Sanctuary has been the best. It's this old Pre-war subdivision that Sunny showed us after we met in Concord. It's peaceful, with plenty of space to grow food, a small river, and isolated enough that raiders aren't too big of a worry.”

Damn it. Nothing. Piper decided for a more direct approach. “Anywhere else? Like…I don't know…Quincy?”

Preston stopped so abruptly that Piper nearly ran into him. He turned around and his face had changed from a kind, strong Minuteman to a stern, angry soldier.

“If that is your way of asking if I was at the Quincy Massacre, yes, I was. I was there as my entire company died one by one waiting for backup. I was there when I realized I was the only one left and Colonel Holis was dead and no one was coming. I had to make the decision to retreat with what few survivors left in hopes their sacrifices wouldn't be in vain. And I was there as we wandered through the Commonwealth looking for somewhere that we can be safe. So yes, I have been to Quincy.” He turned back around sharply and continued down in a march.

Shit. So he did go to Quincy's aid. And paid heavily for it, if he was the last one left. Today was just the day Piper insulted everyone, huh?

“Wait, Preston!” Piper quickly moved in front to stop him from storming off. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to accuse you of anything.”

He scoffed.

“It's just that… When Quincy happened, everyone was devastated. The Minutemen were supposed to help people! Now, we don't know if we can trust the few left. I didn't know if you were gonna run and leave that girl behind when things get dangerous. But I am sorry. I can only imagine how terrifying it was going through all of that.”

Piper hoped he would accept the apology. She already made enough enemies by exposing scumbags with the paper. She had no desire to add a genuinely good person to that group.

Preston exhaled deeply through his nose before all the rage seemed to drain out of him. Leaving behind only a man who looked really, really tired.

“I understand,” he said. “ Just don’t bring it up again.”

Piper agreed quickly, just as Sunny came running back up to them. The bright, cobalt blue of her vault-suit stood out like a beacon against the faded reds, browns, and grays of the city. Even when partially hidden by the brown of her leather armor, the only thing that rivaled that suit's color was the jewel green wall that gave the city its nickname.

“Do you charge for your paper, Miss Piper? Cause your sister completely forgot about that if you do.” Even as she spoke, Sunny’s eyes roamed around the scenery. It was probably super different from the vault she grew up in. Piper had never been in one before, but she was pretty sure she would react the same way Sunny is if she went inside one.

“It's on the house for first timers, kid. Next time you're gonna have to cough up some caps.” She quipped, even as the wheels in her head started turning. Sunny couldn't have been out of the vault for too long. What did someone who was raised on pre-war values, with pre-war history, surrounded by pre-war technology think of this post-war society? What did she learn in her classroom that's been lost to time for them? What stayed the same no matter where she was?

“Thank you very much for the assistance, Miss Piper.” Codsworth said, “ You said that you did know the way to Detective Valentine's place of work, correct?”

Snapping out of her thoughts and coming back to the present, Piper nodded her head. “Right. Sorry about that,” She pointed toward the space past Moe Cronin and his swatters. “Go past all the stores and take a hard right into the alleyway. Valentine Detective Agency is the only thing down that way and it has a neon sign to boot, so you won't miss it.”

Sunny nodded her head along to Piper's instructions then looked at Preston, expecting him to say something. He was silent for a moment, leaving an awkward tension in the air as Sunny’s gaze flicked between them confused. Piper wondered which would win? His lingering anger and offense or the exhaustion that now seemed to settle deep into his bones.

The exhaustion won as he simply said. “ You take care, Miss Wright. We won't keep you any longer.” He gently placed a hand on Sunny’s back and started leading her away. Codsworth gave his own polite wave and farewell before following, but Piper had her focus back on that blue suit.

Sunny looked back at her and waved over her shoulder, giving a toothy grin. The dark screen of her pip-boy caught the light of the sun and gleamed slightly. The thing looked so big and bulky on such a small arm.

Piper decided to go with her half-baked idea and quickly caught up with the group, placing a hand on Sunny’s shoulder opposite of Preston. “Hold on a minute, Blue. I got one more thing to ask ya.” The new nickname slipped out easily past her lips. It seemed to fit the girl as well as her actual name.

Sunny didn't seem to notice what Piper had called her, or at least didn't acknowledge it. She turned back around and cocked her head, slightly confused on what the woman could need from her. Preston looked somewhat annoyed at being stopped yet again, but he didn't look as mad as Piper thought he would. Codsworth even seemed curious, continually zooming and un-zooming on her.

“What do you need, Miss Piper?”

“How do you feel about doing an interview for Publik Occurrences?”

“Huh?” Sunny’s brows furrowed in further confusion. “Interview? What do I need to do an interview for?”

“I want to put your story in print,” Piper told her. “I think it's time Diamond City and the Commonwealth to have some outside perspective. You haven't been outside the vault for very long right? So, you could provide a fresh pair of eyes to what everyone thinks is normal.”

Sunny stayed quiet for a moment, thinking.

“Okay, but I’ll have to do it later. We need supplies and I need Detective Valentine’s help.”

____________________________________________________________

It was late into the evening when Piper heard a polite knock on her door. All the shops had closed down and a dinner of cram and salisbury steak had long been eaten. Piper had finished up her last touches on her article and was writing down questions to ask the young vault dweller up in the loft and Nat was patching up a tiny tear in her coat. Having been grounded for getting detention while she was away, she was banned from playing with her toys, comics, and magazines until the end of the week. As her guardian, Piper had to be responsible and teach Nat that she should have talked to the teacher instead of punching a boy in the nose when he wouldn’t leave her alone. As her sister, Piper was damn proud.

“I got it,” Nat piped up, setting her sewing down easily. Piper was glad she actually enjoyed the activity cause she never had, nor did she have the patience for it. It was a necessary chore that needed to be done if you wanted to have decent clothes in the Commonwealth. Unless you were a yuppie in the Stands who could shell out the caps for new clothes when your old ones were ruined, someone in the house had to pick up a needle and thread.

Piper kept her focus on her notepad, wondering if asking a Vault Dweller if they were technically inbred was inappropriate before scratching the idea away completely.

“Hey, Piper? That vault dweller and her bodyguard are here to see you.” Piper finally looked away from her work and down toward the door. Sure enough, Sunny, Preston, and Codsworth were in her home. Sunny trying to diligently kick the dirt off her boots and Preston realizing it wouldn’t matter anyway.

“Hey! Glad you guys remembered!” Piper shoved her notepad in her pocket and descended the stairs. Now on the ground floor, she got a side by side comparison of Nat and Sunny.

Okay. Maybe she was older than Nat. While the girl still held baby fat on her face like her sister, Sunny was several inches taller. She seemed…smoother, too. She didn’t have all the small scars across her hands Nat did have from handling paper and the printing press everyday. Her face didn’t have a random cut or bruise that kids normally sported around here due to falling and eating dirt. Nat and other young girls kept their hair chin length, so as to not have to spend a ton of time taking care of it. Even Piper made sure her hair never got past her shoulders. Sunny’s went past that, probably longer if they were out of the braids.

It was like she was missing parts that Piper was used to seeing in kids, and had them swapped with completely foreign ones. Vault kids really were an entire different breed from Commonwealth kids it seems.

“Hello, Miss Piper. Sorry for coming by so late but we are just stopping to tell you that we are going to have to delay that interview until later.”

Piper raised her eyebrow. Why stop and tell her if they decided not to do the interview? Did she anger Preston enough for him to forbid the interview? No, he would have shot down the idea when it was brought up and wouldn't show up to delay it. Did someone bad-mouth her enough in the market for them to change their minds? She wasn't exactly friends with most of them, but she didn't think any of them hated her enough to actively discourage an interview. Did they…

“Did Valentine forget to show some of that Diamond City hospitality? Normally, he’s better about that,” Piper tried to joke. Nick was always willing to help anyone who needed it, but a lot of people were put off by the bolts and exposed wires. If they were rude about the whole “prototype synth with memories from a pre-war cop” thing, she wouldn’t be surprised if he kicked them out.

“Unfortunately, Detective Valentine was not there to receive us, only his assistant.” Codsworth answered.

“Miss Woods says he left to investigate a kidnapping by a gang led by a man named Skinny Malone and hasn’t returned. Does the name ring any bells?” Preston continued.

Piper’s mind went right back into work mode. Going over to one of her filing cabinets, she opened a random drawer and started flitting through the unorganized papers. “Nat, where’s my files on Skinny Malone and his gang?,”

Nat shot over another cabinet, “His personal file is here,” a quick shuffle and Nat pulled out a folder.

Another cabinet and quick shuffle, “His gang's criminal history is here.”

Tucking under Piper, she closed the first drawer and opened the one below it, “And every article about their crimes are here.” She closed the drawer with her elbow and handed her sister the now decent stack of paper.

“Why do you know my system better than I do?”

“‘Cause you don’t have a system at all.”

Piper pulled out his personal file and the crime list. Handing the personal file over to Preston, she gave a quick rundown, “Skinny Malone is a small-time gang leader who wants to make it big. He grew up here in Diamond City. His family was well-off in the Stands, and spoiled him to be more rotten than brahmin shit. His dad cut him off 20 years ago after an altercation that ended with Skinny in the city jail, and told him that his bail would be the last time he spent caps on him. Skinny couldn’t handle an actual job, so he shot his parents in the head, took all the caps they had, and started his own gang .”

Preston followed her explanation on the paper, a serious look on his face. “And one of this gang’s crimes is kidnapping?”

Piper started skimming the list of crimes, cursing herself for not at least alphabetizing the stupid thing. Robbery, Assault, Murder- the whole thing was copied down as his crime list grew but kidnapping wasn’t one of them. She chewed on a nail.

“Nothing on kidnapping, but I do know he’s got a thing for pretty ladies way too young for him, and doesn’t like to be told no. If one got his interest enough and rejected him, I wouldn’t be surprised if he decided to just take the poor girl.”

“Miss Woods said that he was investigating Penn Street Station. We are going there to see if Detective Valentine needs help.” Sunny stated. “If he is as good as everyone says, I bet the girl will be there too.”

Piper flicked her eyes back over to the group before handing the paper back to Nat and heading past the couch. “Penn Street Station is past all the guard stations and is a good walk away. When are we leaving?”

Sunny immediately caught the addition in the question. “I’m sorry, we?” Piper had picked up her 10mm pistol and was now counting her bullets.

“Yes, we. Valentine has been a part of Diamond City for as long as I can remember and he’s my friend. If you guys are staging his rescue, I’m coming.” Satisfied with the amount of ammo she had, she put her pistol in the pocket opposite of her notepad and pencil. She’ll need that too.

“Besides,” she added, “I still want that interview.”

____________________________________________________________

They had to leave Codsworth behind. Sunny had pitched a massive fit over it, but it was sadly the most practical. Penn Street Station would be crawling with Skinny’s gang, so a stealth approach would be needed. Codsworth was just too loud, his engine, singular thruster, and multiple arms always making an audible noise. His shiny metal finish and inability to crouch made him a giant silver beacon. It was only after she was told that he would stay at Publik Occurances and Piper lied that Nat needed someone to watch her for the night did Sunny agree to him being left behind. (Nat never needed anyone to watch her and had glared at Piper for saying that.)

By the time they had left the city and passed all the guards, the moon was high in the sky and the streets were quiet. Piper fished her notepad and pencil out of her pocket and flipped to the questions she prepared earlier. Not as many as she would have usually liked to have, but she could improvise a few if needed.

“So Blue, you up to answering a few questions for me?,” Piper asked the girl in front of her. A Stealth-boy had been attached to the girl’s armor and her rifle now held steadily in her hands. It looked so big in her hands, Piper couldn’t believe she used it.

Sunny turned slightly to glance at the reporter. “Why do you keep calling me that? Blue?” she asked.

'Cause of the blue jumpsuit you're wearing?,” Piper answered, “You're a Vault dweller. That and the Pip-boy are dead giveaways.”

Sunny pulled at her collar and looked down to inspect her outfit. “Nothing else that fits me is any good. Everything else is either too big, in shreds, or a dress. I even have to tighten up the armor that I’m wearing with it as tight as it can go.”

Piper smiled and continued, “ I'm going to ask you a few basic questions first, just some simple information until I get to the bigger questions.”

“Okay.”

“Name?”

“ Sunny Evangeline Roberts.”

“Birthday?”

“April 4th.”

“Vault?”

“111. It's on my suit.”

“Age?”

“12, technically.”

Piper frowned at that answer. “What do you mean by ‘technically’?”

“I mean, I'm only technically 12. If we actually counted the years between now and when I was born, it would be about 212 years.”

If Piper had a drink, she would have choked on it. Instead, she just choked on her spit. Sunny’s tone didn’t sound like she was joking but Piper couldn’t imagine her being serious. The only ones who lived that long were ghouls and Sunny had the very strong distinction of having a nose. As she was trying to regain her breath, Preston lightly scolded the girl.

“Sunny, you can’t just tell people like that.”

“But you told Paladin Danse, why can’t I tell Miss Piper? If she is gonna write about me, she’s got to know.”

Piper couldn’t believe they were so casual about this. “Wait, wait, wait! What do you mean you’re over 200 years old?” she asked, voice jumping higher and louder than she meant it to.

“All Vault-Tec Vaults had an experiment built in,” Preston answered seriously, “none of them were good, which is why most are either abandoned or destroyed from the inside. Vault 111 put all of the original residents in cryogenic suspension.”

“They didn’t tell us,” Sunny’s voice had a hard and shaky tone to it, like she was trying to be tough but couldn’t. “No one would have agreed to it otherwise. It was too risky. So, they lied and told us the pods were for decontamination. ”

“Oh god, Blue.” Piper’s brain was having a bit of trouble catching up. This kid was old enough to be her great-great-something-grandmother. She had seen the bombs fall. She didn’t know anything about Vault-life, but knew everything about before the war like it was yesterday, because to her, it was yesterday. Most of her questions no longer applied, but a million more took their place in her head, and over half of them would be twice as insensitive as the inbreeding question.

“How…how did…how did you get out? When did this happen? ” Piper’s mouth finally settled on.

Sunny kept walking, but her steps slowed down and her hold on her rifle became looser. “ About two weeks ago. There was a malfunction in my pod. The fact that it was able to still open after not being maintained is nothing short of a miracle.”

Preston now slowed his pace to match Sunny’s, and Piper had to slow now too so as to not topple over the girl. Their brisk walking pace was now a shuffle. Piper’s pencil seemed to move on its own as it wrote down Sunny’s answer.

“Did anyone else make it?” Piper asked softly.

“No. Mom and Dad were killed when Shaun was taken and life support failed for everyone else.” Sunny’s nails dug into grip, scratching at the faux leather. “The scientists and guards that were supposed to watch us had some sort of…fight? Rebellion? Whatever happened between them, when I got out, all that was left was bones. Codsworth was the first person I found when I got out.”

Piper bit her tongue to avoid adding any commentary to the girl’s tale and just asked her question, “Why was your family allowed in the vault? I know only specific people were allowed in each one, or else we wouldn’t have so many ghouls.”

“Vault 111 was advertised as a military vault. They said it was to honor and thank our great American heroes, both past and present. Dad was retired military. His squad were the first to test out new Power Armor on the field, so they were really important. He injured his leg when I was nine, so he was honorably and medically discharged.”

Piper couldn’t contain her curiosity. “Was he the one who showed you how to use this giant thing?” She reached over Sunny and tapped her pencil against the stock of the gun gently.

She couldn’t see it, but a small smile was now on Sunny’s face. “Yeah, he did,” she reminisced, “After he retired, he stayed home while Mom went to work, taking care of the house and me. He was a bit paranoid afterward. He saw things while deployed, but they never told me what it was. He wanted to make sure I would be safe, so he taught me and Mom how to shoot, how to hunt and gather food, how to get clean water, stuff like that. I complained at the time, but now? I don’t think I’d be alive without them.”

Sunny looked up at the crumbling towers and shining stars. “Even with how worried about the future he was, I don’t think he could have imagined it being like this. Otherwise, I don’t think they would have had Shaun.” She looked straight ahead at Preston’s back again.

Piper was going to need to sharpen her pencil, trying to keep up with the girl’s words. She knew what the girl ment. If her brother was just an infant, there was a big age gap between the two, just like her and Nat. If their Dad had survived and their Mom stuck around, Piper wouldn’t have to play the stressful balancing act between sister and parent. She loved her sister with all of her heart, but Piper sometimes resented the responsibility on her shoulders. Sunny’s parents were now gone, and she was putting herself in the role of a mother on a mission to find her baby. After a beat of writing, she spoke again.

“What do you think of this?”

Sunny turned her head to look back at her. “Huh?” “All of this. What do you think of it? It's obviously different from before the war. I think everyone needs to hear how we are doing in comparison to before.” Sunny was silent for a short while, tumbling the answer around in her head. “ Things are different, that’s true. We didn’t have raiders and our toilets worked and the cows had only one head. My parents were here and my brother was safe. The buildings were safer and there was a lot more of everything.”

She paused as they had to climb over a large amount of debris. The rubble was loose and unsafe to walk on, so crawling uncomfortably on their hands and knees over it was the best way to get around the rocks and concrete.

“There is good though,” she started again, “I have Codsworth, and I met Mr. Preston, and Dogmeat, and Paladin Danse, and everyone back at Sanctuary. Some things are different, but still nice. Diamond City was beautiful in a way I have never seen and when there aren't gunshots, everything is so quiet. And so many people are trying. They are trying to survive, and build homes, and have families. They have hope, so I have hope I can find my brother and have a good life.”

Piper smiled and scribbled down the last words of Sunny’s little speech. This was a lot to work with, and Piper didn’t want to cut anything. She hoped her old printer would survive all the extra work and not kick the bucket like Nat keeps saying. Once she finished her notes, she looked back through quickly, and found something that brought up another question.

“What’s a cow?”

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