Count Down to Detonation - fallout fan fiction

Prolouge

Dale sat still in his rolling chair, staring blankly at a child's smashed pipboy.
"Do you think you can fix it, Murphy? I'm so sorry this happened again... Jack just hasn't been himself lately!" exclaimed Ms. Betty Doggett. She leaned over the desk a bit, her VaultDoc uniform unbuttoned to show cleavage.
It wasn't working, even though she was honestly a total MILF.
"Doggett, he's 'dropped' the damn thing four times this month. I don't think I have the parts to keep doing this. I'm going to have to tell the overseer-"
"Please-," she interrupted, "he keeps getting picked on by the boys at the upper living quarters."
Dale leaned back and slumped in his chair. Betty Doggett and her son Jack were taken in from the wasteland three years ago. As much as they needed new people to make sure their genes were clean, the original vault dwellers held great prejudice against the entering waste-landers. And the fact that they've run out of vault uniforms doesn't make it any better. They made runs to get  suits from the failed vault 334 as well as any parts and supplies that could be used to build the new families living quarters.
"Alright," Dale came to a conclusion, "I'll mark it under my name. Under one condition: you let me talk to Jack. He needs to know how to handle himself around those asshole kids."
Ms. Doggett flashed a million-dollar-smile, "Thank you so much, Mr. Murphy."
'Who knew such a doll could come from the wasteland?' Dale thought as she left. He watched her hips sway as she walked through the door and shut it behind herself. She was gorgeous. He couldn't deny it.

In the other side of the vault, Jack sat on his bed re-reading the 13th issue of Astoundingly Awesome Tales. Coming from outside of the vault had its perks. When he first came, he had brought his small collection of comic books with him into the vault. He had thought that it might help him get some friends within, but it didn't really help much. Ronnie Phillips and Kenny Martin stole the first one he had taken to class.
After reading a few pages, he jumped off of his bed and ran to his mom's work desk. He was allowed to use it if he didn't mess up her work. He kicked his feet back and forth in the tall chair as he started to draw on scratch paper.
Jack was a very creative kid, often telling far-fetched and overly glorified stories of his adventures while crossing the capitol wasteland with his mother. This time, he was drawing his own comic about synths. Though he had only heard rumors about them, he knew that they'd make for a great story. He drew himself and a synth named Anne working together to defend a city from a monstrous death claw. He had just started drawing the ending of his comic strip when suddenly an alarm system went off.
Jacks chest tightened as he flung himself to the ground. He scrambled to his feet and looked around frantically as the siren blared so loudly that it felt like the air was with pulsating with electricity with every flare. Jack felt himself shake and start to cry. His first instinct was to call for his mother, but when she didn't come, he did the next best thing he could. He climbed into a tin chest marked with the VaultTech logo and curled himself up as he waited for the alarm to turn off.