╭┅┅┫ -ˋˏ *. ❂ .* ˎˊ- ┣┅┅╮
❝ ᴄʜᴀᴍᴘɪᴏɴ
ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴀ ʙᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ
ɪ'ʟʟ ʀɪsᴇ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ
ʙᴜʀɴɪɴɢ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴊᴜɴɢʟᴇ
ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴅ
ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ʟɪᴠᴇ ғᴏʀᴇᴠᴇʀ
ɪ'ʟʟ ʀɪsᴇ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ
ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ʀɪsɪɴɢ ᴜᴘ ❞
╰┅┅┫ -ˋˏ *. ❂ .* ˎˊ- ┣┅┅╯

Tall lamps bathed the room in a soft pink hue, and red curtains streamed down like waterfalls. People lounged on red couches with quilted backseats. Tables littered with alcohol, drugs, and cigarettes dotted the room.

The things that stood out were the loungers.

Inside those pods, people and ghouls alike rested with wires attached to their heads. The wires traveled through the back of the pods and climbed like vines across the floors, up the walls, and through the wooden rafters. One way or another, they connected to a very large terminal in the back corner of the hall. In front of each resting occupant was a terminal screen that projected a scene like a movie.

Underneath an extravagant chandelier in the center of the large hall was an older blonde woman in a feather dress sprawled on a sofa.

"Hey there, handsome," the woman spoke in an alluring voice. "Did you miss me?"

Hancock chuckled and raised her hand to his lips to kiss it tenderly. My eyes flickered between the pair, trying to figure out their relationship.. "Of course I did. Who wouldn't?"

"You here for a fix?"

While they talked, I watched the faces of the people in the pods. For some, the corner of their mouths twitched upwards into a faint smile, others unconsciously tightened their muscles and furrowed their brow; I assumed they were reliving something that no one else could see.

Hancock shook his head and motioned toward me. "Not this time. Got some business to attend to."

"This is Irma," He said, gesturing towards the lady. "She handles the transactions here at the Memory Den."

She smiled sweetly at me. "Nice to meet you. You must be the Vault Dweller?"

I nodded, "That's me. So what exactly is this place?"

"Well, it's no secret that Goodneighbor's known for its chems. But here at the Memory Den, we offer a different kind of high." She gestured around the large room grandly. "These pods allow people to relive their past. But I don't let just anyone in. Reliving memories can be. . .traumatic."

"Oh, no. I'm not interested in that," I couldn't stop the trace of anxiety seeping into my tone. I would never want to relive the events at Vault 109. I swallowed and attempted to regain my composure. "I'm here for Nick."

Her eyes softened. "The old synth's doing just fine, sweetheart." She gestured to a room with a red door behind her. "He's in the spare room."

I didn't wait for Irma to finish what she was saying. Leaving Hancock to chat with her, I pushed open the door within seconds.

My bag, along with Nick's, rested in a corner of the room. Next to our bags was a coat stand that held Nick's trench coat and fedora. Nick reclined on the bed with his head elevated on a pillow, his glowing yellow eyes fixed on the ceiling. His synthetic hand rested behind his head, and a cigarette dangled between the fingers of his metal hand. Instead of his typical tattered trench coat, he wore a white shirt. Various wires extended from underneath the shirt and either fed into a terminal or were connected to an IV stand that pumped. . .coolant (?) into Nick.

I was certain that the gunshot would be fatal. Instead, here he was alive and breathing. As I stared at him in amazement, a wide grin spread across my face.

Without moving his gaze, he said, "I told you Amari, I'm feeling fine. Self-diagnostics gave me the all clear. Nothin' to worry about."

"Guess again, detective." Nick glanced up, and the color would have drained from his face if it could have.

"Well, I'll be damned," he spoke in awe. I quickly dragged a chair to his bedside as he sat up against the wall.

So many emotions burst forth as I sat down in the chair across from him. Yet all I could manage was: "You're alive."

A few moments later, a woman's voice sounded from behind me. "Oh, good. You're finally awake." I turned to see a woman in a lab coat with cropped, dark brown hair standing in the doorway. Her face was tired and hollow, and her features were sharp. Wrinkles creased her forehead, and her lips were drawn into a thin line. However, her eyes were a stark contrast the rest of her description—they were a warm brown filled with a deep compassion and kindness.

By looking at her eyes, I knew at once that she was Doctor Amari.

She moved past me to check Nick's vitals at the terminal connected to him. "You were unconscious for a very long time."

My eyes flickered between Doctor Amari and Nick before I asked, "What exactly happened?"

"It's kind of hard to explain, Ash," Nick said. He pointed to the middle of his torso, where all the wires stemmed from.

"To put it simply, the bullet tore through a pocket in my torso that contains coolant, and coolant's what keeps me from overheating," he said, a little more slowly than usual. "But after we fast-traveled, I zonked out."

Doctor Amari continued where Nick left off without shifting her focus from the terminal screen. "Hancock's bodyguard came bursting in, demanding that we come to the front gates. We nearly jumped out of our skin when we heard a grenade."

Nick shot me a concerned look, and I shrugged in response. "A guard was being rude."

He raised an eyebrow, but couldn't keep the amusement from his voice. "You nearly blew open the front gates? So much for making a good first impression."

I rolled my eyes good naturedly and waited for Amari to continue. "I was able to staunch Mr. Valentine's wound easily, but you. . ." her eyes finally broke away from the terminal screen to rest on me for a few moments. "You were a bit more complicated."

Doctor Amari began to examine the chords and wires connected to Nick to make sure everything was in tact and flowing where it should.

"The bullet shattered midway through your shoulder. I was able to remove most of the fragments, but a few pieces are still lodged in your shoulder. It would have done more damage to remove them. However, the most concerning wound was the gouge on the right side of your face."

She nodded to Nick, and he began to gingerly remove the cables linked to him.While she talked, I began to piece together the story. There was no way Doctor Amari could have stabilized us in one day. "How long have we been here?" I asked, dreading the answer.

"About a week and a half," Doctor Amari said easily as my heart sank. "Like I said, you lost a lot of blood, and that is not exactly in abundant supply."

She turned to Nick to address him. "Your vitals have improved significantly, Mr. Valentine. You are free to go. Refrain from doing anything strenuous, and stay within close range of a doctor until he or she notifies you otherwise."

He nodded. "Thank you, Amari. If you ever need our services, we'll be happy to do it without charge."

She waved a hand at the thought. "There's no need for that, Mr. Valentine." The corners of her mouth rose slightly. "Fixer owes our friends a few favors. It's least I could do to thank her."

I grinned at her, thankful beyond words for her generosity. In the back of my mind, I thought of Kellogg. Nearly two weeks had passed since we tracked him down to Fort Strong. What if he wasn't there anymore?

"Fixer, come find me afterwards. I've got to fix the geiger counter on your Pip-Boy." With that, she exited, leaving the door slightly ajar. Silence entered the room in her wake.

Then all the tears that had threatened to spill over in the past few hours finally came rushing forward.

"Oh, Nick," I said, ignoring the tears as they freely streamed down my face. "I-I. . . I thought you were. . .dead. After we fast-traveled to Good-Goodneighbor, the lights in your eyes were just. . .gone. They faded to black and—" I shook my head and closed my eyes, certain that if I said more it would be incoherent. 

"Hey now." Nick said softly, setting down the cigarette in the ashtray on the bedside table. "It's gonna take more than a bullet to bring down this old synth, kid." I reached for his hands, needing physical reassurance that he was still in one piece.

Nick held my hand in both of his, and gave a genuine smile: a rare gesture from him. Through sniffles, I managed to return it. When he looked down at my hand, he did a double take and took my wrist in his hands and held it closer to his face to examine it.

My eyes followed his to reveal that when Nick began to overheat and grabbed my wrist at Swan's Pond, his metal fingers left blisters. I wouldn't have even known they were there if Nick hadn't spotted them.

Wordlessly, he released my wrist. When he lifted his face to meet mine, he wore a somber look. His eyes dragged over the length of my facial scar, and I frowned.

"It wasn't your fault, Nick," I said matter-of-factly, leaning into the back of the chair and wiping my nose with the sleeve of the flannel shirt I wore. "We're still here, still alive. That's what matters."

"I know, Ash. I just. . ." Nick trailed off, straining his arm for the cigarette resting in the ashtray. I handed it to him, and he puffed on it, watching as the smoke billowed from his nostrils, mouth, and the various crevices in his skin. "I can't help but feel responsible. This world wasn't supposed to leave its mark on you. Hell, that burn on your wrist is because of me." His voice was heavy and slow with exhaustion, and he began curling and unfurling his bionic hand.

I sighed and chose my words carefully. "I'm not the same woman who walked into Vault 109, Nick. This?" I pointed to my eye.

"This symbolizes that the old me is dead. I'm not Ash Myers the CSI anymore. Just like how you're no longer Nick Valentine the cop. You're Nick Valentine: the synth detective; I'm Ash Myers the Vault Dweller, Commonwealth Survivor, and Nick Valentine's assistant detective." I grinned widely. "And I couldn't wish for anything more."

Nick shook his head and chuckled softly. "You're something else, kid. Now let's get out of here."

I began gathering our things together while he pulled himself to a standing position together. When I shouldered our backpacks, he opened his hand to take his from me, but I refused. "Nothing too strenuous," I repeated, opening the door.

Hancock, Irma, and the customers had vacated the main hall. Doctor Amari was the only person who hadn't retired to bed. She typed at the main terminal that the wires fed into.

"I've got to talk to Doctor Amari," I said. "Go ahead, I'll meet you outside."

Nick shrugged on his trench coat, adjusted his fedora on his head, and turned to leave. "Fine by me."

I slowly walked towards Doctor Amari, waiting until I heard Nick leave before asking her, "Is everything at HQ alright?"

Doctor Amari murmured, "Everything is fine. I just wanted to talk to you about your encounter."

Noticing my confusion, she explained. "After you and Mr. Valentine were stabilized, I ran a copy of his most recent memories before your arrival at Goodneighbor. That was the best way for me to understand how to properly treat you two."

Her face sobered. "You were shot with a bullet. Because the Institute, Brotherhood of Steel, and Gunners typically use laser weapons, it's safe to assume those groups did not attack you. When I reviewed Mr. Valentine's memories, there was no movement in close proximity to the two of you, which suggests your attacker was in a tall building. No Raider or Super Mutant party could have hit a target from so far away. In conclusion, this leads me to believe that the person or people who attacked you and Mr. Valentine are an unknown variable."

She gave a heavy sigh, and her shoulders slumped downward. "Be cautious, alright? You're not only a valuable asset to the Railroad and the Minutemen, but also to the entire Commonwealth."

I tilted my head slightly, inquisitive.

"I saw how you shielded him, which was extremely dangerous I might add. You're very lucky to have escaped with your vision," Doctor Amari said slowly. "But it was also an act of incredible brave and selfless, and I suppose that's why you did it." It seemed that compliments were a foreign concept to her, which made it even more heartfelt.

"Thank you, Amari." I said as a grin spread across my face. "Thank you for everything. I won't forget what you've done for us. If there's anything you or Irma ever need, consider it done."

"Just take care of yourself." The corners of her mouth finally rose high enough to reveal small dimples in her cheeks.

I gave her thumbs up and left.

Outside, I found Nick in the middle of the street with his hands deep in his pockets, gazing upward. Vibrant streaks of red, purple, pink, and orange smeared across the dark sky. I fished my Pip-Boy out of my backpack and clapped it back onto my wrist, unbalanced for a few moments due to the sudden weight. "You ready?" I asked him, powering the Pip-Boy back on.

"That brings us to the next point on our agenda," Nick said as we strolled towards Goodneighbor's front gates. "What are you gonna do about Kellogg?"

I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. "I've had a little time to think about it. You take my PipBoy and fast-travel to Sanctuary, so you can be near a doctor. Let Preston know where I am. After I restock here, I'm going straight to Fort Strong."

Worry seeped into his voice. "It could be an ambush," he pointed out.

I shook my head, resolute. "Doesn't matter. I'm not giving up after all this time." Nick opened his mouth to protest, but he knew he couldn't change my mind. I wasn't about to waste anymore time not receiving the answers I was due.

"I'll go with you."

Nick and I both looked up to see Hancock leaning against the cobblestone barrier, adjacent to the stores. "You need a traveling companion," he said, stepping forward. "And I need a breath of fresh air."

I crossed my arms, peering at him through narrowed eyes in an attempt to see through any potential pretenses. "Are you sure you should just pack up and leave? You're the mayor, after all."

Hancock crossed his arms. "For one, I'm getting too comfortable. Can't properly lead a city full of lowlifes and outcasts if I can't be one of 'em. Gotta get back out on the road," he answered, easily but unwavering. "For two, sounds like you need a tough fighter to watch your back."

He had a fair point. Two actually. The logical side of me protested, but I always trusted my intuition before aything else. And my gut told me that he was being sincere. After all, he knew nothing of my problems. For all he knew, I could just be confronting Kellogg about a debt situation. From Hancock's point of view, he had much more at risk.

Additionally, the day's events left my mind absolutely fried.

I relented with a sigh. "Okay, fine. We'll leave as soon as you're ready."

Nick, probably too drained to argue further as well, caved. "Just be careful, alright? Kellogg's one of the most dangerous people in the Commonwealth. But then again, so are you."

He turned to Hancock and pointed at him with a subtle, threatening undertone in his voice. "You watch her back. Don't get into too much trouble."

"Aw, come on Valentine." He flashed that goofy, lop-sided grin. "You know I don't make promises I won't keep."

I hugged Nick around the neck. He patted my head and hugged me back, and we stepped back after a few moments. "Don't go against the doctor's orders," I said as I unclasped my PipBoy and handed it to him, along with his backpack.

He tipped his fedora and said, "I'll see you soon, kid. I hope you find what you're looking for," before he evaporated into the night air. With a soft woosh and a flash of light, he was gone.

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

wassup !!

this chapter is boom officially revised

point out any spelling errors if ya see em, im too tired to re-read it for the 19494926th time

you all mean the world to me, thank you (:

xo,
-rambler