Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Walk down the right back alley of Goodneighbor and you can find anything. The city, she’s a mistress. Not a kind one, sure as hell not a fair one. But she listens all the same, and every once in a while she delivers. I been having so much fun, I forgot to take my medicine. Its bad to forget to take your medicine when you have a condition. I get confused. I don’t know how I got here….

Its Saturday, at least it was the last time I checked. I was leaving the Third Rail, Magnolia’s sweet voice having come to an end and the lights were coming on. Charlie never said anything to me directly, but I’m not blind; I know what I look it. Goodnieghbor’s a good sort a place. Place a guy like me can blend into…when the lights are off. The ghouls have their reasons for looking like they do and everyone, at least here, accepts that. Me on the other hand? Ain’t no reason for the way I am and look. Maybe there is, but hell if I can remember. John Hancock tips his hat to me as I leave. He runs it well enough. Better than his shitty brother Mayor McDonague of Diamond City. Speaking of which-

The roads are eerily quiet as I leave the safety of Goodneighbor’s neon lights and I debate maybe a little too long on whether to head to the Combat Zone to see the shows there or find me some trouble right here in the Fens. Sole, the gal in charge runs a tight ship, tighter than Hancock that’s for sure though the whole Commonwealth knows those two are crazy for each other. They burn a path of mayhem and carnage whenever they team up, so she tries to keep her distance for the sake of the small folk. Too bad that, I been itching for a good firefight.

Between the two of them, they managed to chase the Senator underground, though his goons still rule with an iron fist everywhere else. That was his mistake though wasn't it; he thought violence could cow the girls of the Zone into submission and maybe once upon a time he could keep them in line...until Sole came around, that is. You gotta have nothing to lose to go against a guy like that, but in the end it gave her purpose. She got her name fighting for the soul of that part of town.

Or at least I think that’s how it went...I can’t remember things too well. Which doesn’t leave me with any new ideas how to spend the rest of my night. Diamond City got the Dugout, and Vadim brews the best hooch a guy could ask for, but the guards aren’t partial to my ugly mug. As is, I cant find my medicine because this ain’t my coat; though its a damn fine coat indeed. Doc Amari is gonna be pissed I lost my pills again, and I walk back through the gates of Goodneighbor to the far end where the Memory Den sits. And I know I screwed up somewhere tonight, or in the haze of the last few days by the way Irma is eyeing me.

Damn she’s a beauty, all curves and perfect hair as she sits in her red dress on her red couch like a pearl in a jewelry box. “Marv,” she greets coolly and I can already hear the disappointment in her voice. “Hey Irma,” I say, because I can’t apologize for what I don’t know, “is Amari in?”

“Oh she’s in alright, still patching up the guys you sent to her! Now I know we all love a little business thrown our way, but when you make her work too hard,” she tsk’d and tapped her long cigarette not bothering to finish the sentence.

“Guys I sent...huh.” I’m definitely drawing a blank. She blinks those gorgeous eyes at me and sighs dramatically. “Marv don’t tell me you forgot to take your medicine.” And it feels wrong to disappoint her more, but its worse to lie; that don’t sit well with me. “I had ‘em Irma, but you see,” I open the leather and flash the inside pockets, “This ain’t my coat.”

“And let me guess, you can’t remember where you got it from. Oh Marv.” She sighs again, a sweet soft sound full of compassion and exasperation in equal measure, and I can’t fault her. Not that I ever would anyway, especially the way she leans into the large box beside her and rifles around until she pulls out a familiar looking bottle and tosses it to me. “Don’t lose these ones dear, or you’ll have to face Dr. Amari in her basement.” She raises her eyebrows in mock fear and fans me away. I shake the bottle recognizing the sound, and do as I’m told. She’s sweet to never wince at the look of my face, but as I said, I know what I look like.

Back in the Fens I’m right back where I started, staring down the road wondering if the run in with the DC guards is worth the drinks or bad jokes the Bobrov brothers can offer. "What now," I think aloud not expecting an answer. But the City, every now and then she hears the wishes of the of her citizens; she hears me, and a woman’s cry reaches my ears. I turn and head in that direction, dodging the cars lined up like empty coffins and slip in between the alleys in time to see three punks hassling...an angel.

A rad storm is coming in and its lightening up her hair like a halo, flashing neon green against her white skin. And I see red when she’s struck across the face and drops to the dirty asphalt. I got a condition. It makes me forget, makes me confused. But killing? Killing is one thing I’m good at no matter what condition I’m in and the three men are down before I’m even feeling a little satisfied. Her hiss of pain brings me back from finally turning into what they say I am, and I hold my hand out to help her up. If she wants it. If she doesn’t recoil in fear or disgust. If she doesn’t scream and run the other way.

She does none of those things though. Instead, she whips that halo of hair from her face and gazes at me, straight in the eyes-no small feat that, and wipes delicately at the blood on her lip. Then she puts that delicate hand in my meat mallet one and lets me pull her up without a flinch. Her hand stays in mine as she fixes the strap of her shoe, and I can see my reflection in the red shine of her nail polish until she straightens and looks at me. She’s an angel, a goddess, and when she smiles its like the radstorm dims knowing its place next to this phenomenon of a woman.

“You heading my way,” she asks with a head tilt and I can’t say anything clever; never been that kinda guy to begin with, but she’s already walking backwards, her hand still in mine leading me and so I follow. “Let me at least buy you a drink. On me,” she says with a laugh in her voice and I agree because there’s no way I’m giving up a night in the company of someone who wants mine. She takes me to the Harbormaster Hotel, and its a lousy room in a lousy part of town. But as she walks past the broken blinds and slightly boarded windows, the sky lights up from the storm and outlines her as she takes her coat off. And I recognize now the black trench coat and white scarf but I cant remember from where.

She strolls over and holds up a shot of whiskey with a smile and leans close. She smells wonderful, like the way an angel like her should smell. Like a goddess, like purified water and melon blossoms. She feeds the shots to me like they’re water and I drink ‘em down the same way until she leans in close and whispers ‘I need you.’ And then as an afterthought she whispers her name; ‘Goldie.’ Fitting I think.

And I don’t know how, my memory is not that good y’see, but she’s undressed and her skin is soft and my fingers sink into the flesh of her hips as she’s over me practically weightless and I don’t waste any time wondering how the hell I got this lucky. I’m lost in her, drowning, or maybe breathing for the first time. I take it all in, memorizing it.

I watch her get up in the early hours of the morning; the storm is over and it looks like so is my little moment of heaven. I dress quietly as she freshens up and I’m almost out the door before she can kick me out when I hear, “Same place we met, next week.” I know I must’ve heard her wrong but I don’t get the chance to ask as the door closes on my face.

My week is hell, wondering if I dreamed the whole thing. I had to have. There’s no way a dame like Goldie would ever lay with a brute like me. But as the week wears on, I know what I gotta do. So Saturday night comes and I leave the Third Rail a little early. I light my cigarette at the gate and stare down the towards the Fens, wondering if I can survive the stupid I’m gonna feel. Wonder briefly if anyone else will survive if they cross paths with me then. Only briefly though. I go in the other direction, the need to know outweighing any sane part of my brain, which if I’m being honest ain’t much. I walk the streets in the outskirts of Goodneigbor, searching for that golden halo in the night. And the city, every once in a while she listens; and she delivers.

Goldie’s leaning against the wall near the same place I met her, trench coat open and that white scarf draped loosely over the white dress underneath. She straightens at the sight of me and smiles and damn, its sunshine and light as her hand extends and she leads me all over again. And I’m stuck in a loop; every Sunday morning I’m looking forward to Saturday night rolling around.

And then I mess it all up. I’m helping Mags deal with a rowdy customer who tried to grab her around the waist even after she’s already said no. I toss him on his ass and get a free drink out of it from Charlie whose glad he doesn’t have to call Mayor Hancock down. Its going great until I decide to leave a little earlier like I have been. And the fool from earlier is waiting for me with a couple of his guys. The bat across the shoulders catches me off guard the first time. But he doesn’t get a second chance.

I snatch the bat after dodging the next ridiculous swing, idiot put his whole weight without any sure footing and he’s on the ground by his own hand. I add my two cents though, ‘cause I’m feeling generous. The bat breaks across the head of the second nearest and I let the handle drop carelessly next to the now convulsing body as I make my way to the main idiot. Who may have pissed his pants if the stench I'm smell is coming from him.

Its been a while since I had a moment to just let loose like this, so when he runs off and yeah the smell was definitely from him by the stain on his pants, I give a slow chase. Just to make it sporting; ‘cause I’m feeling generous. I can see the route he’s trying to take, trying to get to the DC gate where the guards might be able to save him. But the Wastes haven’t been my haunt this long without me knowing a little shortcut or two. I go through one of the abandoned complexes, one of the walls blown out in a long forgotten raider squall and make my way up the wooden planks perched to get me to the roofs. I see a few of the Neighborhood Watch looking on from their skybridge but they don’t interrupt. They’re respectful like that. The Girls of the Zone however are strangely missing. I put that away to think about later as I leap onto the guy from above, loving the crunch of his face as he hits the pavement. I turn him just to have a word when a shot goes off and the pain explodes in my shoulder, just for a moment before I tune it out and snatch the hidden gun from him. Training does that to you I guess.

The rain smells like blood as I stand on the edge of the roof of VaultTec HQ staring at the lights of Goodneighbor. You see, I have a condition; makes me forget things. I’m wearing a new coat, its a little snug around the shoulders but its soft and clean. My undershirt, not so much, and I’m stuck wondering where the hell this much blood came from and what the heck I'm supposed to be doing.

And then I see it in my mind, golden hair like a halo in the streetlight and I can see the billboard of Hubris Comics in the distance and her trench coat comes to mind. The Silver Shroud...no...Goldie. I don’t know how I got off that roof, I just know the rain is torrential and I can’ t bear the thought of that angel soaked to the bone and shivering on that corner.

I reach the meeting spot, but there’s no sign of Goldie. So I turn to head to the Harbormaster Hotel, the place she claimed me. Even if she never wants to see me again, I gotta apologize for standing her up. Being rude to the dames; that don’t sit well with me. I’m turning down the main road when I hear it, screeching tires like someone’s challenging the rain to a race. Its only moments later I realize the sound is heading straight for me and turn to the headlights. The Corvega’s a lovely blue I think idly, as it smashes into me and sends me several yards down the road. Hard heels click and I look up in time to see Goldie staring down at me looking like nine levels of hell pissed before she puts two slugs in my chest. Not that I don’t deserve it.

I wake up sometime later, clearly daytime by the light filtering in through the blinds but its not my place. Its too lush with the hazy carpet and deep red cushions of the chairs around me, though not one of the one I’m sitting on that’s for sure. And I’m tied to it. I notice then the faint glow of an assaultron blade with an electric mod and follow the waist it’s strapped to, and I know instantly where I am.

Deadly little Miho, never too far from Sole. Which means I’m in the Combat Zone. A gal in NCR armor with no fatigues underneath tilts her head while spinning a revolver in and out of its holster. I know her, I know all of them from a distance. “Hey Dallas.”

“Hey Marv,” she answers with no shortage of cool indifference and while she hasn’t ever been real friendly with me, I know this is business. And not the fun kind.

The door opens and in strolls Sole, a real wasteland warrior this one. She’s got her usual regalia of holey fishnets, six inch heels and a black and white striped corset under spiked raider straps. She kicks a chair over in front of me and straddles it backwards, tilting her head so that the half of her hair not shaved close to her scalp flows down her shoulder. Her eyes are steely, and not just the color as she pours herself a glass of gin and sips, her black lipstick staining the rim. “The girls tell me you been a bad boy,” she says with a taunt and I would’ve loved to hear it under any other time, but there’s somewhere I’m supposed to be.

“If I have, I can’t remember-” her punch silences me just for the speed of it, I didn’t see it coming. She takes another sip like nothing’s happened and Dallas is smirking clearly getting off on it. And then she comes in. Golden hair, clear eyes and lips redder than heart blood. “This the guy,” Sole asks between another sip. Her shoes are gunshots and she punches me, slower than Sole as I see her windup from a mile away. But it still takes me by surprise with the ferocity behind it.

“Sorry Goldie. Didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”

“You’ll be joining her soon enough for what you did to her,” she sneers and its only Sole’s hand on her pistol that keeps me from another bullet hole. “He confesses first. We got rules Wendy. Its how the Zone works,” she reminds finishing her glass after removing her hand, and I register I been pistol whipped twice in that time by the delayed feeling of pain. Oh...I forgot to take my medicine. So I slowly start to undue the ropes tying me to the chair to get to my pills.

Goldie leans close, hands on the arms of the chair and I spare at glance down to see her aiming at my parts. “Goldie and the other six. Where are they? Are they still alive? Did you at least make it quick!” She hits me again before I can answer. Another dame comes in, newer to the group. Lucy I think it is, from Abernathy Farm in the north. She’s got a sweet face with her short hair curling around her ears. “Oh sugar, I think we got the wrong guy.” Sole’s up at that, and Miho moves to guard her back, eyeing me like she wants to finish the job before they move on to the next. I like that kind of dedication to work ethics, even if its me we’re talking about.

“Speak up Lucy-” I was right- “What do you mean he’s the wrong guy. I saw him with Goldie for the last several weeks!” Sole puts her hand out and calms, “Easy Wendy. We do this right or Goldie’s death goes unpunished.” The words are wrong and I strain against the ropes ignoring the way the assaultron blade lights up the room when its out of its sheathe.

“Goldie what’s going on? What do they mean you’re dead?” She looks at me with spite and malice and I notice then. The smell, the looks, the feel of her hands, they’re right, but they’re wrong too.

“Goldie was my sister, my twin.” Huh, must’ve been the nicer of the two if the look this dame’s giving says anything about her attitude. I must’ve said it out loud because the pistol crashes against my temple again rattling my already troubled brain. “You killed her you son of -”

“Wendy.” Sole’s voice silences the room. Hell it silences the show going on below for a brief second. She pours another cup of gin and leans near me smelling of gunpowder and soap. “Some filth has been carving up the girls and leaving them for dead-the ones they leave that is. My first thought was the pricks of Diamond City. But McDonague wouldn’t try again after the lickin’ me and Johnny baby gave him. Took him months to replenish his DC guards. And no offense, but looking at you now, you don’t seem the intelligent type to be able to lure my girls into a state of complacency, not with that mug.”

“Nuttin’ taken,” I answer easily enough because I’m not one to argue with facts. “So my next guess is the Institute. Senator Shaun Roarke trying to get a little revenge. But we would know if Coursers were walking our streets. Miho has a personal grudge and it wouldn’t slip her notice.” Said assassin shifts and the blade cuts a clear line of light into that corner. Goldie-no...Wendy points the gun at me again. “This asshole’s working for them then, like Kellogg was.” Kellogg; now there’s a name that hasn’t been spoken in a long time and for good reason the dirty cop/mercenary/dirtbag that he was. "He's not like him," Sole assures though she looks like she's trying to convince herself of that. But I ain’t nothing like him so I play my card and I stand and say so myself. “I ain’t nothing like him.”

Wendy steps back, eyes wide, and for a moment I see all the innocence and fear of Goldie before she’s herself gain. Dallas steps behind me and grabs the rope checking it before making eye contact with Sole. “I tied these knots, they’re my specialty! I had plenty of NCR boys trussed up like pack brahmin out west-”

“I know,” Sole says firmly and its got an edge of kindness, like she knows Dallas would never betray her. “You just sat there and took it;” I look at Wendy and she’s staring at me hard like she’s trying to see into my thoughts. Bad idea that. “You could’ve taken my gun at any time...” I shrug away the curious stares and pick up my coat, shaking it out sighing at the lack of jingling pills. “Sure, but I thought I could talk some sense into you. Besides I’d have to paste you one, and I don’t hit girls.” She laughs at that, but it sounds almost like a sob is hiding just a pitch under it. She lowers her gun shaking her head. “He ain’t kill Goldie, Sole. I saw the way she walked him through our turf, hand in hand. Thought it had to be him because she's too smart to be caught but...”

Sole frowns and motions Molly forward who strolls up and pushes me gently with two fingers to sit back down. She reminds me of Irma with her blond hair and green eyes, but her doctors coat splattered with blood throws off the soft air. She’s clinical in the way she patches me up, offering me the gin bottle before digging her forceps in my shoulder for the bullet still lodged there. I watch Lucy whisper to the others, and I read Sole’s anger in the way her hand keeps flexing for the tire iron dangling like a pendant off her hip. Wendy looks damn near inconsolable and I’m standing much to the annoyance of the pixie with sutures in her hand. She follows my steps, still closing the wound and I gotta admire that kind of work ethic.

“Give me a name.” Sole looks pissed and shakes her head. “We’re our own enforcers Marv-”

“Somebody wanted her dead and she knew it. Why else would a goddess like her pay any mind to me. I was supposed to protect her but I showed late. Now I’m gonna find the son of a bitch that killed her and I’m gonna give him the hard goodbye.” Go-Wendy lifts her head and her eyes look like glass for a moment before she spins her gun and hold it out for me. “You kill him for me Marv. You kill him good.”

“Don’t worry Goldie, before its time to end it, he’s gonna think hell I send him to is heaven.” She nods once and straightens out my coat. “A man name Northy was seen near all girls before they went missing. Frequents the Shamrock Taphouse.” She looks back at Lucy to make sure that’s right, and the little sprite nods nervously avoiding eye contact. I don’t hold it against her. Sole sighs and motions her hands. “We got a theatre to run. If your not out chasing crooked cops, you better be chasing caps.”

She waves them out of the room and waits until its just the three of us before she whispers. “You need some girls to back you up, you know where to find me…better yet if you lead the bastard back here.” And then she’s gone. Wendy lingers for only a moment before she’s gone too. And then the assaultron blade glows and I know I overstayed my welcome. But I got things to do anyway.

Whenever I got questions I just find someone smarter than me and ask them. Sometimes I ask hard. And Northy? He don’t know when to stop screaming and start talking. But I guess I’m a little enthusiastic tonight. He gives me what I want though and I’m wiping my hands off when her perfume hits me. I turn and watch her come out of the shadows, hands in a bomber jacket over a pencil dress. “Goldie. I’m on the right track. I’ll get him for you.” Her lips twist in a smirk and I sigh. “Wendy, I’m sorry, I got confused.”

“Its okay Marv. What’d he say?”

“Smiling Kate. Over by Bunker Hill, she gets the drops for whoever’s in charge” Her face is hard and its clear how different the twins are-were. But then she’s jangling her keys and motioning over her shoulder. “C’mon. I’ll give you a ride. Just in case you hesitate to hit a girl.” I laugh because for Goldie, I’d walk across the Glowing Sea if it meant finding the one who did this to her.

“Sure thing. Just gotta pick up some supplies.” First stop, my mom’s house to get Gladys. Then: surgical tubing, razor wire, special gloves, handcuffs, and a gasoline can. Don’t worry Goldie. I’m getting close. There’s no where in the Wealth I won’t go to find this guy for you. I’ll get him, and I’ll get him good, just like you asked.

Chapter Text

The tires squeal the way Wendy takes the curb. If I was a lesser man, I might actually be scared as we wind our way to the abandoned Pickman’s Gallery. Smiling Kate didn’t stand a chance against her, she didn’t even give me the opportunity to ask politely before she was on the ground screaming with three bullets in her thigh.

Pickman.

Its a name not spoken lightly, even in Goodneighbor, and Kate only stayed on his good side by sending less than acceptable recruits. A real lifetime psychopath this one and I worry for the avenging angel next to me. She stops the car a few blocks away, the mutant barriers making traveling by car near impossible and I lean back and hand her the razorwire. “You set up a perimeter outside, in case this son of a bitch tries to make a break for it. Then get back to the car.”

She’s not happy, I can tell. But she also doesn’t argue and takes the razorwire easily enough. I watch her keep to the wall as she skirts the super mutants and begins wrapping a path around the main door. Me? I go take care of the big green guys. Can’t have them killing Pickman before I can. Its a little tricky, but I wrangle two mutant hounds into a cage and make my way back to the car. Goldie is sitting in the driver seat staring straight ahead in thought but snaps her eyes to me when I lean against the car. “You ready?”

“Yeah.”

“Get ‘em good Marv.”

“Will do Goldie.” I take the gasoline from the back and walk in to the alley blocking off the escapes except for the main door and light the fuel. Then I step outside and wait. Several of his captives coming running out minutes later and I watch them fall and tangle into the trap set, not feeling an inch of sympathy. Raiders, like hitmen, you don’t feel bad for, no matter what you do to them. A knife slices across my arm and I turn to Pickman just as his fist smashes into my face. Too bad for him its mostly scar tissue already.

Mercs are a mess to fight, some are wiry and quick but squishy. Others are all solid bulk and muscle with superhuman strength. Of course Pickman is the second of these two and I’m thrown into the hull of a car. “So you’re the one disrupting my flow of supplies. What did you come here for, to make art yourself?”

I’m standing for a little less than a few seconds before he’s on me again. See the reason I don’t wear a suit and tie is it gives too good of a place to grab and I toss him from the tie around his neck into a sandbag barrier. “I’m here for Goldie. And the girls of the Zone.”

“Goldie? Ah yes. She was a work of art herself; there was little I had to do. Just open her up and show how beautiful she was on the inside as much as the outside. Shame she was a whore.” I see red. Nobody talks about Goldie that way. I handcuff him to me the next time he swings and smash his face several times into a light pole until he stops moving. Sadly there’s no scream to go with that satisfying sound of crumpling cartilage but he’ll be making a whole bunch of ‘em soon enough. I hear three shots behind me and turn to see Wendy has taken care of the ones who got caught in her razor wire trap.

“Is he the one? That’s Pickman? Move aside Marv.” Oh no, not that quick. Wendy’s a deadshot. And I promised you I’d get him good. So it hurts me more than the bullets and being tossed like a ragdoll, but I knock her out with a punch to the head, catching her over my shoulder to keep her from hitting the ground. Dragging the bastard by his arm, I get her back into the car and turn to the mutant camp I cleared out only an hour or so ago. I cant believe my luck with the toys they leave behind for me.

He wakes up into the first hack of his leg but I know how to tie a tourniquet and by the time his arms and legs are gone, I’m exhausted and a little disappointed he hasn’t made a sound. He just stares with a small smile like he’s admiring the work. I suppose he’d be the only one to appreciate it. In the end he awards me for the effort I put in. “Art like this deserves a review,” he says softly.

A name. A place. I let the dogs out and watch them finish my work, waiting but he doesn’t make another sound. Doesn’t speak again. I stay until his last breath just in case before going back to Wendy. She stays out for the whole trip back to the Zone and Miho looks ready to skewer me as I carry her in. Sole kneels next to the chaise I lay her on and glares at me for answers. “The one who killed Goldie is dead. But there’s one more person on this ladder.”

“Who,” and her voice has called the attention of her girls. “Eddie Winters.”

“No way,” Dallas breathes. Molly nods moving Sole aside and she gives me a side eye as she checks the bruising. “She’s right Marv. Eddie’s a myth. That detective in Diamond City has been trying to break his code for years now. I say its the mobster’s last laugh on all of us; being the boogeyman of the Wealth.” Sole however doesn’t look convinced, ‘cause she’s looking at me like I might have the answers she needs.

“You go and finish this Marv. For us. For Goldie. But talk to the Synth. If what you say is true, he’ll know how to get you in. Please.” And damn if it ain’t the soft way she says it that makes me agree. I know she’s playing me like a fiddle, but it ain’t anything I wasn’t already gonna do so why not. “Sure thing Sole,” I say walking out, leaving Wendy in the safest hands.

I take the stroll over to Diamond City. A guard goes to block my way, must be new, but a veteran yanks his umpire outfit and keeps him in place. The night is just starting to settle and I make my way through the ghettos of buildings until I reach the neon sign and step in. The receptionist Ellie turns and freezes and I try to shrink my seven foot frame to keep from looming over her. “I’m looking for Nicky. He in?”

“Marv?” I turn to the heavy accent and stare at the detective’s glowing eyes. He moves to his desk and motions to the chair. I don’t sit. Unless its a barstool, most give under my size. “What can I do for you? Haven’t had any run ins with the guards have you?”

“Nah, nothing like that. I think I have a lead on Eddie Winters was wondering if you could share some light on the subject.” He does, and the more I hear, the more I like the sound of how this is going to play out. The police can’t touch him. The districts are afraid of him. The man can bribe or intimidate his way out of anything; except this. He was going to die for a prostitute of the Zone and if that ain’t ironic I don’t know what is.

“So...you wanna tell me why the sudden interest,” Nicky asks into the quiet as I think about my goddess avenged. “Just got a hunch. A sweet friend of mine was killed in the Zone. Several. Got word it might be him. She was a light in this hellhole of a city, doesn’t seem right not to avenge her.” He sighs sympathetic and nods. “A lot of lights have gone dark under Eddie Winters. Soon Bostsin City is gonna be a lonely place without a kind soul to rekindle her.” Not if I can help it. And after hearing his story, I know I can’t take the piece of mind of making the bastard pay at some point from him.

“I’m heading to his bunker. Gonna kill him. For Goldie. For your Jenny. If you got a problem with that I suggest you stay put because I’m not bringing him in. We both know there’s not a settlement circuit judge that will prosecute him.” His synthetic eyes go hard and he taps cigarette out grabbing his trench coat. “Hold on now. This is gonna be hard to clear you of if you do this,” Ellie warns putting a folder down and trying to take Nick’s coat from him. “The justice department failed Ellie, this is the only way now.”

“You can’t! If you fail, he’ll come for everyone you know! This is madness! The streets will run red with blood!”

“This is blood for blood, and by the gallons! This is the for the good days, the bad days, the all or nothing days! There’s no choices left, and I’m ready for war!” She shrinks back and Nick pats her arm with a sigh. “Go home Ellie. Take a few days off.” Her lip quivers and she cries hard, burying herself into his metal chest. In minutes she’s calm. That’s the thing with dames. Sometimes all they gotta go is let it out and a few buckets later you’d never know. “This better not be goodbye Nick Valentine,” she warns taking her keys from the desk. Oh it’s somebody’s goodbye I think darkly.

We head to Andrew station, and I laugh at the effort the raiders put in to stop us. They don’t know what I’m willing to do to get in there the poor schmucks. Once we’re in I cant help but think Sole seemed to know what she was talking about at the sight of the master computer lock. Nicky uses his clues and works the keyboard over until I think he’s fried the thing, but then like a birthday party surprise, the door pops open and my present waits inside. Eddie Winters.

The smug bastard was a ghoul, was probably expecting to live out his years here until he could come back and start his reign of terror again. And he opens fire to take us out before we cause a hitch in his plans. Not in my city. And ‘not on my watch’ the Synth says. Evolution has gifted the man with rock hard muscles and a strength that strips the synthetic covering right off of Nicky’s face and hand as he wrestles the tommy gun away. I finally get him and lift him over my head. “Wait! Is this whore really worth dying for!?”

“Worth dying for,” I break his back over my knee, “worth killing for,” my hands are around his neck and I stare into the bastard’s eyes, reveling in the fact that he know I can’t be bought or cowed; “Worth going to hell for.” And I separate his spine from his head with a hard squeeze. And oh Goldie you should see it, its beautiful hearing him choke on his blood.

I’m bleeding all over the place and I cant find it in me to care as I help carry Nick out of the bunker; his screws must been knocked loose ‘cause he’s out cold. We sit on the subway bench and I hear the cavalry coming. The city’s goons, the bought DC guards, the mercs, the raiders with too much love of caps over chems. I pick up Nick and throw him under one of the rail cars, coming to standing just as they burst through the subway gate. And the sound of gunshots is deafening in this underground tunnel that’s now become my grave. But I’m not dead when the firing stops and starts again and I hear a repeating sound that takes a moment to register as stilettos across the tile floor. And then my angel is kneeling over me before I go out.

I wake on the operating table only briefly before I’m knocked out again. And when I come to finally, I’m on a chaise in a small utility room. I stand at the sound of the door opening and I smile as my goddess comes in. “I got ‘em good for you, didn’t I Goldie?”

“Yeah Marv, you got ‘em good.” And she smiles that sideways smirk and there’s nothing I can do but hang my head. Poor Wendy, I’ve gone and confused them again. “Wendy, I’m sorry-”

“You can call me Goldie if you like,” she whispers and guides me back to the chaise where she rests on me. When we wake some time later she’s staring at the floor while Sole is glaring at her before turning it to me. “We got you out patched up. The streets are still hot, but you can’t stay here.” Wendy moves and I sit up smirking at the new trench coat Dallas brings in. “I’ll be alright. Just gotta get my medicine.” She nods and gives the dame at my side another look before adding, “I’ll make sure Miho has the way clear,” as a way to give us a moment of privacy. She’s got a big heart, Sole. But the Commonwealth will exploit that and she knows it too well. We all do.

Its quiet in the room until she sighs and her hand goes on my shoulder, sweet and kind. “Thank you Marv. Sole can’t say it so I’m going to-for Goldie.” Before I can answer she’s placed a soft kiss on my bandaged cheek and is taking my necklace off my neck, putting it around hers, and don’t it look pretty there. “This is goodbye,” she whispers and goes to the door, looking back with a smirk, “But its not the long goodbye. You did good Marv. Some real good.”

Miho is on the other side of the door and I stand knowing my time is up. She leads me through the basement into the sewers where we pop up by the Parkside Apartments. I don’t hear her go, but I know I’m alone. Its been a while since I took my medicine, so it feels a bit deeper than usual. In the distance I hear a Sergeant Gutsy patrolling and I know I need to move but I can’t think of where to go. “What now Goldie,” I ask aloud without expecting an answer. But the city listens to her citizens, and every once in a while she delivers, and I hear the sound of fighting and make my way there. Walk down the right back alley of this city and you can find anything….