Epilogue Part 7 All good things…
For the first time in almost six years, Rosie stood in front of The Grand. This place held fear over her once. Now she found herself pleased to see it, even if someone had taken the letters off the wall. The misery this place churned out had been brought to stop by Recon’s visit. Traces of bones still scattered around. It felt like a real win. A feeling Rosie had missed.
By now her code would be wreaking havoc at the Institute. With no contact from them since leaving Boston, Rosie felt safe enough to return home.
“This fucking place.” Janey picked up a rock, tossing it lightly to gauge the weight. Then she hurled it at a window, hitting dead centre and smashing the glass.
“Nice throw.” Rosie pulled her away, seeing the scowl fade.
They headed through the ruins and up to the eight lane blacktop, Fenris on point. “Relax.” Rosie took Janey’s hand to stop her fidgeting.
“Easy for you to say. They’ll recognise you.” Janey stopped. “What if they’re afraid of me?”
“They’re family Janey, nothing else matters.” Rosie had her own nerves, but kept them hidden.
“I see a pitchfork and I’m gone.” Janey hadn’t enjoyed the first book she’d ever actually read.
Rosie had caught sight of the new town from the air. Built right outside the Vault she hated. She set up on a ridge, dialling in her scope.
Constructed from shipping containers. Rosie figured they must have taken every one from the beached ship. Three and four story blocks, with rooftop gardens linked by walkways. Green vines crawling up the metal walls. The ruined houses had either been pulled down or turned into shop fronts.
“I’m going in.” Rosie left Janey with the rifle. “I’ll check it out and you can follow.”
“Copy.” Janey got comfortable, for the moment at least.
Rosie walked along the road, heading for the perimeter wall. Containers stacked double, mesh and stone blocks providing cover. Some had been stood on end to form watch towers. All manned by armed guards.
Containers in a H shape formed the gate. Rosie saw the locking pins that meant it could be dropped. The murder holes in the structure. She’d seen John’s handiwork everywhere. This wasn’t his work. This had the ruthless efficiency she employed, shaped by the same training. Her pace quickened.
People bustled down the main street, the noise of life echoing all around. She picked out a few deputies she recognised patrolling. Something caught her eye ahead. In the centre of the town square stood a polished stone plinth. Atop it, a suit of power armour, cast in copper. Stood as if standing watch. Candles and keepsakes around the bottom.
She drew closer, finding words ornately carved in the stone. The largest read ‘We Remember Them’.
Rosie took off her glove, running her fingers along the first carved name. Sentinel Brandon Cross. She felt a peace in finding him here, remembered, honoured.
The smell of food drew further into town and off the main street. Each direction offered different sights and sounds. Market stalls overflowing with fruit and vegetables, grown hydroponically in the Vault.
A street entirely devoted to weaponry and armour. T-60’s being repaired and refitted. Heavy machine guns recast in the dull steel of the Vault. All manner of small arms and melee weapons.
By far the most noise came from the narrower streets. Occupied by the junk trade, people haggled, broke down old parts to turn them into something new. She looked forward to being rich again after getting by on the road.
Rosie turned a corner and her heart stopped. Stood chatting down the street she saw him. Long hair and beard she instantly hated. John turned and saw her. His face lit up for an instant, then sank. She thought maybe her dyed black hair threw him, and drew nearer. His look only worsened.
A bell rang from inside a nearby building, followed moments later by a rush of small children. A little boy clamped onto John’s leg. “Daddy!” He beamed. Rosie saw the Blake blue eyes in the boy’s face. John looked ready to throw up.
People passed between them. Rosie used them as cover to slip away. She darted up a staircase and melted into a shadowy doorway, trying to breathe.
“Rosie!” He called out, panic in his voice. She could see and hear him.
“Look, I did a picture.” The boy tried to get his attention. “You’re not looking.”
“I’m sorry, JJ. Let me see.” He picked the boy up, masking his pain. He looked used to doing so. “And you said Mr Holland drew this?” John teased his son.
“No, I did.” He insisted.
“It’s very good. Listen, Daddy…” He winced at the slip. “Has to help find someone right now, ok…” He trailed off.
“Are they lost?” The boy asked, concerned.
“No, they’ve been away. While they were gone, Daddy did something that will upset them.” The words caught in his throat.
“So you have to find and say sorry?” It seemed simple to the boy.
“That’s right. You’re good lad JJ. Do you want to go to Billy’s house and play?” John handed him off to another woman and little boy, his panic returning.
“Cyclone, Wizard, this is Ronin. I need you both outside the schoolhouse asap.” John said over comm. “Eyes on Tornado.” He listened for the reply. “I’m sure. She’s got dark hair but it’s her. I was...collecting JJ.” He lost his temper with the person on the other end. “You think I wanted her to find out like this?! Just get here, if she’s still here...just get here. Out.”
John started to look for her but gave up quickly. He knew she wouldn’t be found unless she wanted to be. And she felt like letting him squirm.
Pinging sounded above her, like someone running along the roof. She saw a figure leap from rooftop to wall, clanging and scraping down the metal to meet John.
When she’d left, Wallace had still been a boy. Now he stood on the edge of becoming a man. Tall and lean, wearing a duster like John’s. And a confidence in his movements that meant he’d gotten her letter. And decided to wear the jet black pipboy like hers.
“I get complaints every time you do that.” John let annoyance get to him.
“You said it was an emergency, Boss.” Wallace answered glibly, his voice deeper. “Besides, pretty cool right.” He held out his gloved hand. “Electromagnets. I can increase or decrease the grip.” His smile won John round.
A few minutes later Matthew arrived. Wearing a deputy’s uniform and prosthetic arm. His hair had darkened and the injury had slowed him. But his eyes were still sharp. He looked around, staring at the spot Rosie picked amongst others. She knew he couldn’t see her. He was looking at where he would hide.
“So should we alert the guards?” Wallace asked, getting a laugh.
“Not unless you want them sent to the med deck.” Matthew smiled, still glancing around.
“Cyclone, check Armourer’s row. See if anyone put in an order for anything exotic. Subsonic ammo, five seven rounds.” John paused, thinking. “See if they’d had any complaints about craftsmanship.” He turned to Wallace. “Get with your people in Junker’s alley. Anyone after Assaultron parts. Then find your mother and take her home.”
“What do we do if we find Rosie?” Wallace asked.
“If she finds you, tell her I love her and I need five minutes.” John sounded desperate to explain.
“Where will you be?” Matt asked, still looking round.
“I’m going to Carol’s, then the sweet shop. Then work my way down the best places to eat.”
Rosie stayed put, pretending not to be able to hear Matthew creeping nearer. He leant on a railing, taking in the view she’d had. “I know you heard me. I fucking heard me.”
“Not really fair though is it.” She slipped out and stood by him. “I mean, I was always better. Even before you got fat.”
“Fuck you.” He pulled her into a tight hug. “Good to see you. I’m sorry you had to find out like that.”
“Can we not talk about that yet.” Rosie still couldn't process it.
“Come on, veterans drink free here.” Matthew pointed to a bar down the street.
They walked down the street to the quiet bar. “Is everything alright miss?” Matthew asked the woman nearly in tears before him. She flung her arms round him. “It’s alright, everything will be alright.” He comforted her as if she were a victim of a crime. He turned to make eye contact with Rosie, almost apologising that his work had interrupted them.
“You remember Janey.” Rosie said with a smile. Matthew’s face dropped. He pulled back, looking into her eyes.
“Janey?!” He looked shocked.
“It has been many eventful cycles.” She spoke like she used to. “It’s so very good to see you.”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but the Boss would have loved this.” They all shared a moment, each looking to the statue across the town square. Then Fenris barked and within seconds he and Matthew were literally rolling in the dirt together like they used to.
They sat at a table on the roof. Matthew arrived with three shots, three beers, and a bone from the kitchen. “Absent friends.” He toasted. Janey threw back a shot too, for appearances sake.
“Can I?” Rosie asked, taking his gloved hand.
“Sure.” He took off his jacket, revealing the prosthetic.
A leather brace over his shoulder supported a custom made arm. Pistons and servos taken from bots set in cast and brushed aluminium. “Wallace?” She asked, impressed with his work.
“Yeah, and this is just my everyday arm.” He bragged, his injury worn like a medal. “Can’t use a Frame, but got a custom T-60 that works. Can still shoot a rifle, less good with a bow.
“I never got to apologise for that night. I should have been quicker.” She blamed herself.
“John and I, we spent months on burial detail. Found every last knight. Gave them proper graves. I went out that night ready to die Rosie. Because of you I’m here, not resting in the Field of Steel. You don’t have anything to be sorry about.”
“So.” Rosie couldn’t ignore it any longer. “Are he and Louisa together now?” She saw she’d asked a stupid question.
“No, of course not. They were grieving, lonely and drunk. It didn’t mean anything and they both regretted it. Not that it makes it ok. Speaking from experience with this sort of thing, it was a moment of weakness. He hates himself for it.” Matthew let out a sigh. “A few months later he told she was pregnant. I punched him in the face, knocked him flat.”
“You know he let you hit him, right?” Rosie knew he could dodged that punch with ease. Matthew hadn’t thought of that.
“Like I said, hates himself for it. He saved my life Rosie. I wouldn’t have made it through without him. And I’m far from the only person around here that can say that.”
Rosie followed Matthew to his house, to get the letters from Charlie and Paul. The top floor of a building, sparsely decorated. “Can I stay here, for a bit?” She asked, opting for the easier option.
“Stay as long as you want.” He seemed worried but not because he’d have house guests.
“Plus Janey and Fen.” She smiled, seeing Matthew roll his eyes.
“Sure.” He caught sight of the clock on the wall. “Shit, I’m late for my shift.”
Matthew hurried out the door. Janey took Fen and left to meet the Velo. Rosie headed into the town square. The sweet shop wasn’t hard to find. A pre-war house, the ground floor gutted. People queued at the counter, a wall of jars filled brightly coloured candies.
Some sat at the tables, others watched the sweets being made. A woman took a bubbling vat from the stove, pouring out thick goo onto a cold metal table. More women worked the goo with flat boards, folding it as it cooled.
Rosie could've watched them work for hours. She saw John, rushing in past the line.
“You see a woman, dark hair, green eyes? Might have bought a lot of sweets?” John’s observations made her smile. His face as the woman shook her head stopped her smiling.
“Here, rhubarb and custards.” She held out a paper bag, John started to refuse. “For JJ.” He took them. John made it a few steps before slumping into a chair at an empty table. He took a sweet from the bag, looking broken. Rosie couldn’t take it, and sat next to him. His face lit up, before breaking again.
“At least now I know why you didn’t come looking for me.” She tried to break the awkward silence.
“Rosie, I couldn’t find you in the town I built. What chance would I have out there.” He forced a smile, his leg shaking beneath the table.
He offered her a sweet. As she reached into the bag John saw she wasn’t wearing her ring. It hurt him, but what wounded him was pretending he didn’t notice. Rosie pulled her necklace out. The chain taken from Brandon’s tags, and her wedding ring on it.
“I never took it off. Not once. It’s a tradecraft thing.” She saw him smile for real. It didn’t last.
“I wouldn’t blame you if you’d thrown it in the river. After what I did.” He took a deep breath. She could see him preparing for the moment. “I’m so sorry Rosie. I know I let you down. I know I betrayed you. I know I hurt you. All over again. I know that I love you, now and always.”
“I love you, now and always.” She put her hand on his. He looked at her like she’d found him, lost without her. “Family is all that matters.” Rosie knew that, despite the pain. “I fought too hard to get back here, I’ve already missed so much.”
“Ask.” John readied himself for a difficult conversation. She’d seen him face Deathclaws and not blink, now he looked terrified.
“How does it work, with you and Louisa?” Rosie tried to build a picture of his life.
“She lives downstairs, I live on the top floor. JJ stays with her mostly, but he’s got his own room in my place. We just get on with things. I’m trying to take a step back, make more time.” John shifted in his chair. “It was my fault. It was the first anniversary of the war. I was drunk and grieving, and back in that fucking Vault. It’s no excuse.” Rosie remembered marking the same anniversary, out there alone in the world. It hit her hard, and most of her family survived.
“I’m not angry John.” Rosie lied. Nothing she could say would change anything.
“What’s the tactical situation?” Rosie changed the subject.
“Quiet. We’ve got people at the Tower, they’re keeping the bots running. We’re moving irradiated topsoil south. We resupply them twice a week. Got supply runs, two a week between here and Farmborough.”
“Any trouble?” Rosie asked what she really meant.
“Raider clan rocked up to the gates last spring, demanding tribute.” John looked distracted for a moment. “Matt tracked them to their camp. We rolled in heavy. Nothing since.” He looked distracted again.
“What is it?” She sounded harsher than intended.
“Nothing.” John hadn’t gotten better at lying. It made her smile.
“Just tell me, I can’t imagine there’s a bigger surprise.” She tried to make a joke but it missed the mark.
“I told Roxy I’d pick up JJ by six.” He sounded guilty. Somehow that made her feel worse.
“I’d like to meet him.” She found herself saying.
“I don’t want to put any pressure on you.” John replied. She heard Louisa’s advice, something she’d missed.
“I missed so much, John.” Rosie didn’t want to miss another minute.
John led her to the tallest building in town, a square block with large windows. He stopped at the third floor, sending her to the top. She entered into a bright, open space. Vault made glass windows on three sides. Wooden planks on the floor and walls. An electric heater in a stacked stone fireplace. An overflowing toy chest and dishes piling up in the sink.
She went into the first bedroom, finding their old bed from the home they shared. The room looked too small. Rosie noticed something off about the bookcase. She gave it a shove and it creaked open. Inside lay a narrow room, the walls lined with guns. She noted a few new additions, but the ladder and square of light drew her curiosity.
Rosie pulled herself up into a glass box. Comfy seats and a small bar. Scenic views all around her. Red forest stretched for miles. The roof of The Grand stuck out. A glimpse of the Tower in the distance. It reminded her of the first moment she stepped out into the world. She wound a crank handle in the corner. The glass wall ascended smoothly, hinging fully open as it passed halfway.
She walked the rooftop garden. Neat lines of planters with fresh shoots breaking through the dirt. Rosie loved it, bright and open. She could see the effort he’d put in to build this place. Given the demands on his time, it couldn’t have been easy.
The ballcam she’d placed out of habit alerted her to movement. Rosie slipped back down and into a chair at the table. Her mind flashed to all the stories of evil step mothers she’d read about. She smiled wide as the door opened.
John walked in, holding his son’s hand. He had his father’s blue eyes and his mother’s hair. “JJ, this is my...your…” John started to get flustered.
“Aunt Rosie.” That felt right to her.
“From the stories!?” The boy looked at her like she’d walked out of the pages of a comic book.
“What stories?” She asked John, only for the boy to answer.
“Daddy knows all the Aunt Rosie stories, they’re my favourite.” JJ walked over and hopped on the chair opposite her. “The time Aunt Rosie found Daddy when he was lost in the forest. The time Aunt Rosie made friends with a robot. The time Aunt Rosie saved a puppy, that’s my favourite. Even though sometimes it makes Daddy sad.” Rosie smiled, the fear of being a stranger melting away. John had made her a hero to the boy.
“Why don’t you show Aunt Rosie your paintings.” John suggested. JJ excitedly headed into his room. She saw John breath a sigh of relief. His calm transferred to her. It lasted till Louisa walked in.
“Hey John.” She called out while looking at a shopping list. She dumped the bags on the counter, “I think I got ev—” Louisa saw her, a smile turning to tears. Rosie hugged her, the joy of seeing an old friend washing over any other feelings. “I’m so sorry Rosie.” She whispered. “Please don’t blame him. He loves you.”
“It’s alright, I understand.” Rosie lied. However much it hurt, it felt better to be amongst family.
“What’s wrong Momma?” JJ pulled at his mother’s dress.
“Nothing sweetie.” Louisa wiped her tears and smiled. “I’m just so happy to see…”
“Aunt Rosie.” She said, getting used to sound.
“I’m very happy to see your Aunt Rosie back home, where she belongs.” Louisa took a deep breath. “Come on JJ, let the grown ups talk.”
“But I want to show Aunt Rosie my pictures.” The boy protested.
“Listen to your mother JJ.” Rosie smiled. “I’ll be here tomorrow.” The boy and his mother left.
“Can I buy you a drink?” John asked, looking like he needed one.
“Sure.” Rosie followed him out and into the darkening streets.
She noticed everyone smiling and waving to John. People gave him things, mostly food. He’d gotten better at handling it. He stopped at the statue, taking a moment. She got the sense he did so often, more carved names important to him than her.
A pre-war house had been gutted, refitted as a bustling bar. A wooden rectangle surrounded with stools. Comfy seats round a roaring fire, a pool table at the other end. Music and noise echoing up into the new looking rafters.
John hopped onto a stool at the corner of the bar. The spot Rosie would’ve picked, good sight lines and solid cover. The woman behind the bar poured two beers and left a bottle of whiskey with two glasses.
“So.” John didn’t know what to say.
“So.” Rosie teased him, drawing out the moment. She watched his face as Fen barged his way in.
“Hello boy!” John got off the stool before Fen pushed him off. She couldn’t tell who was more excited. Rosie patted her thigh and Fen settled down. “You’ve got him well trained.”
“I wouldn’t have made it without him.” Rosie felt her mask slip and saw the worry on John’s face. “Do you want to talk about it?” He asked. “Not tonight.” Rosie sipped her beer, watching John’s eyes grow wide.
“Sara!” John beamed as Sara arrived with Janey. Sara punched John with a jab so fast and sharp she almost wondered if he could have dodged it. John staggered back. Sara plunged her hand into a pitcher of ice water on the bar.
“We got a problem?” The barman racked a shotgun, before John waved him away.
“Let me see your hand.” Rosie appreciated the gesture. “It’s not broken.”
“Boss.” John looked ready to take another punch.
“It’s good to see you, John. Heard you had a boy, congratulations.” Sara meant it, despite her anger.
“Thanks.” He smiled and winced. “I want you to know, we buried the elder. We can go right now if you want. It’s peaceful…he’s with his men.”
“I saw the statue, you did right by them.” Sara put her hand on his. “We’ll go in the morning.
Rosie introduced an emotional Janey to a shocked John. They shared stories and drinks, slipping back into a familiar warmth.
Rosie hung back with John as the others headed down the street.
“I’m going to stay with Matt, for a bit, get settled in.” She didn’t want to force things.
“I understand, take all the time and space you need.” John took it better than she’d hoped.
“If you’re collecting JJ tomorrow I could bring Fen, take him for a walk.” She thought he’d enjoy that.
“He’d really like that.” John shifted awkwardly. “Carol has the best restaurant in town. Suzette told her about something they did in Paris. She has a table for two right in the kitchen. Do you want…can I take you to dinner?”
“I’d really like that.”
The End.