Chapter Text
In the wasteland, hope was a rare commodity.
Outside the reinforced gates of Tenpenny Tower, the world was rusted, irradiated, and brutal. Raiders roamed the wastes like wolves, the wind carried dust instead of promise, and the dead often refused to stay buried. But inside the tower, things were… civilized.
Life moved differently than it did in the wasteland. The carpets were thick and clean, the chandeliers actually worked, and the people who lived there liked to pretend the world hadn’t collapsed into nuclear ruin two centuries ago. The air smelled faintly of polished wood and old perfume instead of rust and dust.
For most people in the Capital Wasteland, that kind of comfort was a fantasy.
For a young girl, Kathleen, it was just home.
At the end of one of its quiet hallways at the very top floor of the tower, the door to a modest suite opened with a quiet click. Mister Burke stepped inside, brushing a speck of dust from his sleeve before he even looked up.
He barely had time to close the door.
“Papa!”
Something small and fast slammed into his legs. Kathleen was hugging him with all the strength a six-year-old could manage. Burke staggered half a step, catching himself against the wall as two arms wrapped around his knees with enthusiastic force.
He looked down slowly, “…And Good evening, my little dove,” he said in short.
Kathleen squeezed her father’s legs tighter. “You’re late!”
Burke glanced toward the hallway clock. “I am precisely four minutes behind schedule.”
“That’s late!”
She leaned back to look up at him with a small pout, her grey-blue eyes bright with accusation.
Kathleen looked so much like him that it startled people sometimes, occasionally unsettling newcomers or visitors of the tower, if they knew or had heard of Burke. She had the same dark hair, though hers was gathered into a slightly crooked bow tied above her ear. and unlike Burke, her cheeks were always rosy.
She also smiled and talked.
A lot.
Burke sighed softly, setting his briefcase down beside the door, while she continued clinging to his legs. “Miss Kathleen,” he said calmly, “if you intend to keep me prisoner in the doorway, I’m afraid neither of us will be able to enter the room.”
She considered that for a moment.. then she released him. “Oh kay!”
But once again, the energetic child he still could not fathom he was able to create, before he could straighten up again, grabbed his hand and began tugging him forward. “Come see! Come see!”
“I haven’t even removed my coat yet–”
“Papa!”
“Yes dove? You are very persistent." Burke said, trying to keep his cool. He would never snap at her, he knew how to keep himself calm but after such a long day he would much prefer peace and quiet than this.
“You have to come see..”
“Very well then..”
Kathleen dragged him across the living room to the small table near the window. Several objects had been carefully arranged across its surface, a single bottle cap, bent spoon and a pencil she had for drawing. And what appeared to be a small rock. Where did she get that from?
Burke stared at the display. “…Oh wow, I see.”
“It’s my collection!” Kathleen announced proudly, putting her curled up fists against her sides.
“Of course it is.”
She pointed to the bottle cap first. “That one’s lucky.”
“Lucky, you say?”
“Yes, whenever I carry it around in my pocket something lucky happens.”
“How fortunate.”
Then, she moved to the bent spoon. “And that one’s shiny.”
Burke leaned slightly closer, perhaps it was a little dirty but.. Yes, it looked shiny nonetheless. “That,” he said, “is indeed a spoon.”
Kathleen frowned at that, clearly not the answer she was seeking. “You’re supposed to say it’s nice.”
“I beg your pardon.” He cleared his throat, “It is a very impressive spoon, you've found.”
The young girl nodded, satisfied and proceeded to pull out a drawing next, holding it up for him to take. Burke picked it up carefully between two fingers.
It depicted three stick figures.
One tall. One small.
And one that looked suspiciously like a very round brahmin.
“How lovely my dear, such a nice scene you’ve depicted but.. Do you care to explain what I am looking at?” Burke said, enthusiastically.
“That’s you,” Kathleen said, pointing to the tall figure.
“I had assumed.” The man grinned, watching closely.
“And that’s me.” Naturally.
“And that’s the brahmin that lives outside the tower.”
Burke paused and blinked for a second.
“…There is no brahmin living outside the tower.”
“There was yesterday with its owner.”
“Oh! i didn't know.”
Kathleen let out a small chuckle and leaned closer to inspect the drawing again.
“I gave you a tie,” she added.
Burke noticed the scribbled dark line around the stick figure’s neck. “How thoughtful, it's like the one I always wear.”
He gave the paper back to her carefully and patted her head. “You know, Kathleen, perhaps you will become an artist once you are older.”
The girl gasped, “Really?!” while her eyes widened and she almost burst in joy right at the spot when a knock sounded at the door.
Kathleen gasped dramatically again and turned her attention to their guest. “Miss Lydia!”
She ran for the door before Burke could respond. When it opened, Lydia Montenegro stood outside with her arms folded and a tired smile on her face. Her shop had clearly just closed. The pink dress she always wore was dusted with lint and thread, and she carried the faint smell of fabric dye and old perfume.
“Well there’s my favorite customer,” Lydia said softly, happy to see the little girl she had practically helped raise.
Kathleen grinned happily up at her, wrapping her arms around her legs too. “I helped today, didn't I? Oh please, tell papa!”
“You should’ve seen her, Mr. Burke. Kid’s got a future in sales.” Lydia laughed, running her fingers through the girl's hair.
Kathleen puffed up proudly once again.
“I counted caps!”
“You counted my caps,” Lydia corrected.
“And I was right!”
“Mostly,” Lydia sighed with a small laugh.
Burke raised an eyebrow at that, “Mostly?” it would be a shame if his child didn't know her maths correctly. No child of his would go uneducated.
“Well,” Lydia admitted, “she tried to charge a customer twenty caps for a hat.”
Kathleen let out a gasp or betrayal. “It was a nice hat!”
“It was a sock.”
“It looked like a hat!”
Burke pinched the bridge of his nose. Evenings often worked like this. When Lydia closed her store downstairs, she would stop by the Burke suite to check on Kathleen, if she hadn’t decided to take the girl downstairs for the day.
Sometimes she stayed a few minutes.. sometimes a few hours. Especially on nights when Burke’s work kept him busy.
Tonight she wandered into the living room and examined the table. “What’s all this?”
“My collection,” Kathleen said proudly.
Lydia picked up the spoon, inspecting it. “…You stole this from the dining hall.”
“I borrowed it.”
Burke didn’t even look up, now having made his way back to his suitcase and fumbled with a few papers he was taking a peek at. “Tomorrow, please make sure to return the dining utensils before the staff notices. Is that understood, young lady?”
“Understood, papa!”
Dinner arrived soon after Burke had managed to settle down on his couch chair. A tower attendant knocked politely and rolled in a tray holding brahmin stew, bread, and a small slice of cake that Kathleen immediately spotted.
Her eyes widened.
“Cake!”
Burke set his papers aside and adjusted his glasses. “You may have it after dinner.”
“Awhh.. After?”
“Yes, after dinner.”
“But that’s a long time!”
“It is fifteen minutes, darling. You will survive til then, think most kids in the wastes don't get cake.”
Kathleen sighed like a tragic heroine and climbed into her chair, her father was right. Most kids out there didn't have any food, let alone cake to eat. The thought sometimes made her feel bad for those kids, imagining herself in their shoes.
Lydia leaned against the counter watching, making sure Kathleen kept her table manners while stuffing her face. “You know,” she said, “for someone who scares most people you come across, you’re pretty normal with her, as a father.”
Burke sat down at the table and unfolded his napkin, looking up at Lydia with a smirk. “I fail to see how parenting and intimidation are mutually exclusive, but I will take that as a complement. I tend to raise her right and.. I am doing my best.”
Lydia snorted, “Yeah, I can see that with how busy you keep yourself. Now, If you don't mind me asking, since i believe i have never asked before.. where is.. her mother?” she finished her sentence quietly, whispering that last sentence since Kathleen was present.
Ah, there that familiar question was, once again.
Working while raising a child had been… an adjustment. Burke had never expected to be a father, too focused on his purpose and job in this world.. Then he had met Kathleen’s mother, and well.. that was not something he discussed openly. Not with Tenpenny, not with the tower residents, and certainly not with the curious gossip that thrived in the lobby.
The official explanation he had given everyone that has asked throughout the years was simple. Kathleen’s mother was gone and no longer with them.
Some said she had died in childbirth or out in the wastes, others said she had just left like some parents do when they no longer want to be a part of their child’s life. Burke never corrected either version, the truth, like many things in the wasteland, was buried and lost to time, he intended to keep it that way.
After all she had never asked if she had a mother, never knew what it was to have one and as far as she was concerned for her age, she didn't need one. Besides, raising Kathleen inside Tenpenny Tower had its advantages.
She was safe from raiders, radiation, ghouls and the creatures that crawled through the ruins of the Capital Wasteland. Better yet, the tower residents adored her, even Tenpenny himself found her amusing. “Bright child,” the old man had once said, Burke recalled while they stood at his balcony, watching her chase birds across the courtyard. “Shame the world she’ll inherit is such a mess.”
“Well, i– uhm.. She is no longer–” Burke stammered, trying to keep his story straight when Kathleen, coincidentally saves him by raising her spoon filled with stew. Luckily not the one she had taken from the dining hall at Café Beau Monde.
“You’re only scary when I don’t go to bed!”
“Thank you,” Burke said, holding back his laugh at the sudden unexpected comment from his daughter. “That is precisely the reputation I aim to maintain.”
Dinner was slow that night, Kathleen talked between nearly every bite.
“And then Miss Lydia said the dress was pre-war,” she explained.
“Yes,” Burke said, listening while he himself ate.
“And that means it’s older than you.”
Burke almost choked and then he paused.
“…Technically most things are.”
Kathleen thought about that. “Huh.. you're right!”
Lydia snorted quietly into her tea from across the table, sitting on the couch.
Later, after dinner, Kathleen insisted on helping clear the dishes, which involved carrying a single spoon very carefully across the room while Burke carried everything else and Lydia had finally headed back to her apartment, Kathleen followed her to the door.
“Will you come tomorrow?” she asked, giving her the puppy dog eyes.
“After I close the shop,” Lydia promised.
Kathleen had grown rather attached to Lydia as of late and while that was a good thing, having some kind of mother figure. Burke felt saddened at this, he didn't mind of course.. But it was a reminder of things he found irritating. With what still played with his feelings.
Then she shut the door and turned dramatically toward Burke.
“Papa, guess what...”
Burke couldn't help but smile, checking the clock.
“I suspect you are about to tell me regardless.”
“…It's story time!”
Kathleen swiftly changed into her pjs, a white silken nightgown that fit her perfectly before she climbed eagerly into bed. Burke meanwhile retrieved the worn pre-war book from the shelf. The pages were fragile with age, but he handled them carefully.
She scooted closer to his side as he sat beside the bed. “Okay, okay..” she said, wrapping herself around his arm and squeezing her face against it. “You can start!”
Burke cleared his throat and began to read, his voice warm and soothing. “Once upon a time, a brave knight rode across the kingdom to rescue the princess from a terrible dragon—”
Kathleen raised her tiny hand immediately in protest and smacked it down on the page. “Yes?” Burke asked, confused on why she wanted him to stop.
“What if the dragon wasn’t bad?”
“…Pardon?”
“What if he was lonely and invited the princess, but because he was so big and ugly everyone assumed he was terrible.”
He considered that for a moment, to be such a wild child she was quite intelligent and creative. He really could not tell where she got it from.
“That possibility is not addressed in the text.”
“Well it should be!”
Burke closed the book halfway and smiled at her, reaching his hand out to caress her cheek lovingly. “I might not be too skilled at writing, but what if I write a revision for you?”
Kathleen yawned, already exhausted and at the brink of falling asleep.
“Papa?” she said, rubbing her eyes and nuzzling into his hand.
“Yes, my little dove.”
“You’re working tonight, right?”
Burke hesitated.
“Yes, that is correct.. I am.”
Her expression drooped slightly and she clung onto his hand using her small grip.
“Dont be sad, I will return before morning,” he added, hoping to reassure her, “If something were to happen or if you wake up, you know everyone here will offer to care for you.”
“I know.. You promise?”
Burke rarely made promises, unless they were deals set in stone, but this one was simple.
“I promise sweetheart, I always do.”
Kathleen seemed satisfied with that and let his hand go, lowering herself down, pulling the blanket up to her chin. Within minutes she was asleep and Burke remained sitting beside the bed a while longer, watching her breathe softly.
Outside the window, the wasteland stretched endlessly beneath the night sky.
Raiders. Radiation. Creatures twisted into monsters. A world that could take everything from you in a heartbeat. Burke adjusted Kathleen’s blanket carefully. She looked so peaceful and safe.
For a moment, he allowed himself a thought he normally would have dismissed as foolish. Perhaps she would grow up here, inside the tower. Untouched by the horrors outside.
Maybe the wasteland would never take notice of her at all. Burke stood and quietly left the room, In the hallway, he gathered his papers and straightened his coat. Downstairs, work was waiting.