And She Continued Pt 1

Ready to Climb Again

The music crooned over the rough crowd. Valentine had left a while ago, taking Dogmeat with him.

I needed to be alone.

Very, very alone.

Charlie set the glass of vodka in front of me, "Needin' anythin' else, love?"

"Not right now Charlie, thank you." I grabbed the glass daintily with my fingertips, swirling the liquid around.

My brain was on fire with thoughts, burning with questions and theories. At the same time, I was numb. My baby, my Shaun... he was a young man. I shook my head, swallowing the contents of the glass in one go. The alcohol burned away the tears.

How old were those memories? I wondered, setting the glass on the table and slouching over my crossed arms. At least he's alive. That's something, right?

I sighed heavily, my mind wandering. What had it been like to watch him take those first steps? Learn real words and their meanings? I could feel the emotions welling up again.

"Charlie! Another!"

"Righto miss." He motored over, poured the glass and turned to leave.

I grunted, draining the cup and setting it down. "Another."

"Are you sure-"

"Go on ahead Charlie." I felt annoyed by the silky voice and gorgeous body that came with it. "I'll keep an eye on our friend here." She was silent as Charlie poured another glass. "Just leave the bottle." She told the Mr. Handy. "I'll get her to her room tonight."

Already I could feel the alcohol rushing to my head. "Oh man, I'm feelin much better." I smiled, looking her over. "You are beautiful. Who are you?"

She laughed, I liked the way her chest bounced. "I'm Magnolia. I sing here."

I was quiet for a minute, sipping my fourth cup of vodka as I eyed her. A spike of jealousy went through me for a minute. She was everything I would never be; elegant, sexy, a better singer, well cared for, desired. I shook it off, taking a gulp.

"Well I sure do like listening to you sing."

"Would that help you?" She looked concerned. "Another song?"

I smiled at her and winked, "I think so."

She laughed in her throat, a demur purr. I winced. She was used to getting hit on. And why the hell was I hitting on her anyway? I caught myself looking into her eyes, a heavy blush stealing over my face as she poured me another drink.

"Do you know of any jobs around here?"

She was silent for a moment, "You know... I do. Hey, Charlie!" She waved him over. "I'm going to go sing for you, Charlie here will have just what you need." She turned to go, I caught her wrist.

Looking down I asked, "Are you- are you always this friendly to the newcomers?"

A soft, self-aware laugh peeled out of her. I nodded, letting her go. Of course. Of fucking course.

"Whaddya need?" Charlie's brutal accent assaulted me.

"Got any work for me, Mr. Handy-man." I laughed at my own joke. "Oh c'mon." I smiled at my full glass. "That was a good one."

"And one I've heard before." He muttered before saying a little louder, "Actually I do..."

--------------------------------------------------

I picked the lock to the last warehouse, then kicked the door open, happily spraying bullets every which way; no warning. Triggermen fell and shouted and dodged and shot back, but ultimately they all died.

This was about as much fun as a girl could have in the wastes. I laughed, the bottle of gin I'd been nursing rolling with a soft clink as I accidentally kicked it.

"Oops." I slurred, tripping over a body, blood smearing over my face as I wiped my hair out of my eyes. "Shtupid hair." I growled, staggering back out the door, giggling as I missed the last step.

A ghoul ran right into me.

"Watch it." I hiccuped.

"You ran into me." She pointed out, "Shh. Hancock's giving a speech."

Drunk, but curious, I took a seat on a nearby bench, ignoring the protests of the man whose lap I nearly fell into.

I watched, eyes glued to the man in red, his voice slithered out over the group. He was charming, he was influential. His words wrapped around his people and gave them strength and courage. Bound them together. Which made sense, they were his people. I had no excuse for the way that his voice made me feel; it was as though he was speaking right to me, as though we had this bond over something.

I smiled down at my hands, sobering up a little. I looked at the people around me. Each and every one of them had something taken away by the Institute. Each of them shared that pain in common, with each other... with me. For a moment I felt myself being pulled along the current, being accepted and drawn into them. I laughed and shook my head, looking over my shoulder.

The sign for the Memory Den buzzed.

The memories came back.

The high faded.

I was sober again. I waited for Hancock to finish his speech, felt the roar of the people around him, waited for the crowd to disperse and made up my mind.

I entered the Third Rail, nodding to Ham with a smile, avoiding Magnolia if only because I felt like an idiot, catching Charlie's attention.

"It's done Charlie." I nodded.

"That was quick." He confirmed the amount of caps we had agreed on.

"C'mon." I lowered my voice, leaning forward, "Tell me who your boss was. Who asked for this? I already have a hunch. It's not hard to figure it out there, captain."

Charlie sighed from deep within his chassis. "Very well. The man who requested this is the man who runs everything."

"I knew it." I smiled, taking the caps, "Thanks Charlie."

"Why-" He stopped me, "Why don't you go see him? In his rooms. He'll want to speak with you."

I shook my head, "Not really much to say since he didn't want me to know. I'll talk to you later, yeah?"

"Yeah..." He watched me for a minute, then went to go help another customer.

I left to go visit the Memory Den.

"Oh my God, it's the real costume!"

I felt guilt flood me as I handed the costume over to Kent. His enthusiasm, the way his mind processed thing; it was like giving matches to a toddler and telling them 'have fun'!

"But I'm no Shroud." His voice stabbed through my heart. I saw him look at his hands, scarred and clumsy.

He turned to his radio, his eyes widened with glee, "I'll be the voice!"

"P-pardon?" I took a slight step back.

"I'll give you the costume. You can be the Shroud. Here, I made this-" He handed me a duplicate of the prop gun I had seen at Hubris Comics. "I souped it up some for ya. You go and fight the bad guys, I'll give you your targets!"

I wanted to say no as my hands reached out and grabbed the costume, as I took the submachine gun with a small thank you. Even as I turned the station on my PipBoy and made a right down the hall to change in the bathrooms.

God knows I wanted to say no to the ghoul. But I couldn't. I couldn't crush his dreams, his exuberance, his joy like that. I sighed as his voice broke through the radio station. I pushed off from the wall I had been leaning against, studiously ignoring the jeers coming from the people who passed me by.

"Silver Shroud, your first target-"