Set in the Fallout universe, but mostly in Fallout 3.

TO POINT LOOKOUT AND BACK

CHAPTER 1

Sarah rushed from the Den as fast as her legs could carry her. Run now, breathe later, her mind was whispering as her limbs complained. Could it really be true?

Indeed as she neared the infirmary, a swarm of people just as curious, but not quite as absolutely concerned, gathered to block the doorway. She suddenly regretted neglecting to put on her power armor. Without it, she felt naked and terribly venerable. Luckily, she always had her rank.

"Out of my way!" Sarah shouted over the nonsensical chatter that filled the hallway, pushing her way through the masses as best as she could.

New recruits are stupid, alright. But no one is dumb enough to not comply with something that Sarah Lyons, daughter of Elder Owyn Lyons himself, has to say that sounds anything remotely like an order. And so, the human sea parted to admit Sarah through.

Paladin Cross was the solitary soldier left guarding the door. "Hurry, Sarah. And only Sarah! You all stay back!" Cross pulled her roughly through the doorway by the collar and slammed the heavy, rusted iron door closed behind them. Inside, another mob of people surrounded a single hospital bed that was pushed into the far corner of the room. On the bed, the maimed and unconscious lone wanderer lie.

"Dante?" she asked aloud, mostly to herself, if only as a way to convince herself that she was, in fact, awake. Dante looked nothing like he did when he had first left for Point Lookout, Maryland. The clean-cut, well-fed, yet trim and strong vigilante she knew now sported a shaggy beard, seemed substantially thinner, and looked as fragile as the blackened, withered branches of any unfortunate tree one could find in the Capital Wasteland. What was most unsettling to her was his newest addition to his already vast collection of scars; a fresh incision sat high upon his forehead, as harshly stitched up as it was carved into him.

"Help me get him out of this," ordered Scribe Rothchild to anyone who was listening. Still covered by siege tank-strength plating from the neck down, the true extent of his injuries was unknown. Sarah obliged. "Hold him steady. We have to cut into the side," grunted Rothchild. "The release mechanism is broken. Get the med-bot over here."

Paladin Cross addressed the idle robot in the corner. "Protocol 133-72. Cut through the lock on the left side, and only the lock." Getting an unconscious person out of a semi-destroyed suit of power armor is no easy feat, indeed.

"Sir! Yes, sir!" replied the eager Mr. Gutsy.

"Goddamn robot," Cross muttered under her breath and folded her arms against her chest in annoyance.

"Initiating bonesaw sequence 133-72. Danger in immediate area. Please stand at least the minimum safety clearance of twenty feet from point of impact. Thank you and have a nice day," announced Mr. Gutsy. With the exceptions of Rothchild and Sarah, everyone in the room moved to the back wall. Sarah pressed Dante's shoulder down and held his limp, left arm out of harm's way while Rothchild held his respective leg still. The saw whined as it started and roared as it reached its highest speed. Sarah turned away to protect her eyes as the blade made contact with the metal and sent sparks flying every which way.

"We're through," declared Rothchild. Then he turned toward the robot still hovering at the edge of the bed. "Stand down, soldier. He's not bleeding. Good work."

The Mr. Gutsy retracted all its various appendages. "Dismissed!" it barked and flew back over to its usual corner of the room.

Rothchild pulled away the torso covering as tenderly as he could. He and Sarah continued to separate sections of Dante's power armor from his lifeless body. They were successful at removing all but one part. His right metal boot was dented in at a strange angle and refused to budge, holding Dante's leg captive in its sickening grip. The way it was bent, there was no doubt that Dante's tibia was fractured at the very least. Using the handle of a surgical tool to pry the boot open, they were finally able to slide Dante free. As expected, the front of his lower leg was smashed in.

Scribe Rothchild set to work on constructing a splint for the damaged limb while Sarah cut away Dante's undershirt to bring into view a deep purple bruise stretched across a large part of his stomach and ribcage. "Someone get some ice," Sarah said to no one in particular, then averted her attention back to Dante's face. Pushing strands of his dark brown hair back from his brow, she observed the scar that was still damp with his own blood, diluted by irradiated water. She shook her head in disgust. "How could this have happened to you?" she whispered.

"Sentinel, I think you should come with me. We're questioning someone in the other room who might be able to shed some light on what happened to Dante," said a voice from the doorway. Sarah hesitated.

"Go, I'll take care of him," Rothchild assured her. She nodded, and headed toward the door, stealing one last look as she pulled it shut behind her.

She arrived with the interrogation already in progress. She quietly entered the room and took her place behind her father, making sure to cross her arms in a sign of aggression that only added to the suspect's terror.

"So your name is Nadine, is it?" questioned Elder Lyons. "Can you please explain to me why you brought a member the Brotherhood back to us in such horrible condition? Choose your words carefully. And if you were involved in his injury somehow… Well, you'd better hope that's not the case."

The red headed young woman began, "Please, I only wanted to help him. The locals from Point Lookout, it was all them! They drugged Dante and cut out a bit of his brain. They're cultists, and stupid ones at that. You see, they all cut out part of their brain for their crazy beliefs. Some of them can't keep the drool from dripping out of their mouths," Nadine paused.

"Go on," prompted Elder Lyons.

"They tricked Dante into drugging himself," Nadine continued, "They cut him open. Needless to say, he was pissed when he came to. In the end, he ended up killing their 'god.' No matter how good of a fighter Dante is, he had a few things working against him back in Maryland. Even though most of the cultists dumb as hell, there are a shitload of them, they're violent, and they know the lay of the land. I saw a mob of them attacking Dante. They managed to drug him again, and then beat him... I managed to scare them away with a few pulse grenades. I knew Dante needed good- no, great medical attention. The first aid kit on the boat just wasn't going to do the trick. The only place I could think of that wouldn't shoot us on site was here." Nadine was trembling now, causing the chain of the handcuffs she was bound in to clink together. Looking frantically from father to daughter, it was clear she had nothing else to say in her own defense.

Sarah let her arms fall slack at her sides. "She's telling the truth, Dad."

He sighed. "I know." He pulled a key out of his pocket and removed the handcuffs from Nadine's wrists. "You are free to go."

Without saying another word, Sarah left her father in silent contemplation. But instead of heading back to the infirmary to Dante's side, she rounded the corner and continued to Elder Lyons' private residence. He had always told her she was free to use his computer, where she could sit in alone in silence instead of one of the Citadel's busy technology labs. She couldn't stand to go back to the infirmary, no matter how much she wanted to. She was so close to tears the first time but she had to hide her emotions for the sake of her reputation. And so, Sarah let herself in and sat down before the computer.