A/N: Welcome all, to the updated/revised story formally known as A Trial of Risk and Fall! Welcome! As a forewarning, the rating will change as the story goes on and the plot progresses. The model in the cover photo is a woman that goes by the username of "Bee ( melvnin), a Gambian model on Instagram. If I'm requested to remove the photo I will do so, of course! I don't intend any harm or infringement upon anyone. This story is also posted on AO3 under the UN of "TheFaerieChild". If you see this work posted at any other site besides FF or AO3, and under any name aside from TheKonfessionist and TheFaerieChild, please notify me immediately! This person has not been given permission to repost my work under any other identity or under any other website!

The story will be updated, from here forth, every Friday so mark your calendars! Until next Friday, enjoy this generous two-parter "Chapter 1" for the time being!

Without further-ado, here's the updated story of Winona Parker, now known as Inventor's Absolution! Enjoy!

Happy reading, happy writing!

~Konfessionist, signing out

May 1, 2268

"Well, I think it's a good idea! You'll see when we get it put together, Wally." Butch grinned impishly from ear to ear and lazily propped his feet up onto his classroom desk, crossing them at the ankle. Wally sat at the desk in front of him, sitting backwards in his chair with his arms folded on the top of the seat back, and Paul stood near the two with his hands tucked into his jumpsuit pockets. He was kicking at the floor with downcast eyes and a doubtful expression.

Mr. Brotch just finished up with their History lesson, and with all the students gone to get their meals (teacher included), the classroom was open as it was during every lunch. It'd be empty for another few minutes before Brotch returned to eat his meal at his desk, so they had to plan quickly during the private time for Wally's 9th birthday party—which was to be in three days. The boys deemed it necessary that it had to be a party that their peers would talk about for years to come; they'd play rounds of Hunt the Mutant, his dad would get Andy to do magic tricks for them, and Old Lady Palmer was going to make her trophy-worthy chocolate iced cake as his birthday dessert.

Pranking the taciturn Winona Parker would just be the cherry on top of the proverbial sundae.

"Uh—this prank seems cool and all, but it's kinda… mean, Butch." Paul finally spoke up, rubbing his arm awkwardly.

"It's s'pposed to be mean, stupid! 'Ya pull pranks on people you don't like, so it has t'be mean! And humiliating!" Butch exclaimed in annoyance as he tucked his legs back under his desk to sit upright. "And this is the most humiliating prank I've ever created!"

"I don't know if it's a good idea…" Paul muttered again in protest under his breath. His eyes were roaming about the room now to look at anything but his intimidating friend; the black chalkboard on the far wall that had their lesson of the last hour, the posters that encouraged learning taped to the walls, the projector screen unfurled at the front of the class so Brotch could play a clip about the Great War. It showed soldiers marching in formation with their weapons to their shoulders, and a cartoon map of the U.S.A. being destroyed by atomic bombs with present tags that read "From: China, To: America". Butch always liked the explosion animation that followed.

"It's a dumb prank." Wally commented with an unamused shake of his head. It was a phrase he'd been repeating over and over all throughout Butch's explanation of his plan, interrupting him repeatedly. "It's not even a good dumb prank."

"Is too a good one!" Butch hissed at him, feeling a welt of anger lash up inside him. "It's genius! It's gunna be my best work yet!"

"Won't she get suspicious, though?" Paul piped up, looking back and forth between the two of them. Butch groaned in frustration at things not going his way, having believed that his friends were going to be completely on board with his plan. "I'm serious, guys! Winona's really smart—"

"That's 'cause her dad's a doctor, of course she's smart." Wally spat.

"—so won't she get suspicious of Wally inviting her? Since you guys pick on her all the time, and all…"

"I'm not inviting her—"

"Yes you are!" Butch cracked as he shoved back his chair and got to his feet, his splayed out hands slapping down onto his desk top as he loomed over Wally, who remained seated. "What? Are 'ya scared, Mack? You wussin' out on us? You big chicken!"

Wally's neck flushed bright red under his jumpsuit collar at the accusation, spreading up into his cheeks as he pushed out his own chair to stand upright—slamming a fist down onto Butch's desk between the other boy's hands and leaned into Butch's face, glaring intensely in challenge like he was daring Butch to say it again.

"I'm not scared!" He snarled, pulling back away to plop down into his seat, immediately seeming to cool off though his brow crinkled in agitation. "I'll invite her."

Butch grinned with glee. Ever since they were kids, he knew how to push most of Wally's hot buttons with relative ease; accusing him of being scared was one of them, and it'd peeve Wally enough that he'd do just about anything to prove that he wasn't a scaredy-cat. It was a card Butch always laid out on the table when Wally would refuse to do a prank, if only to goad him into cooperating.

Works every time! He thought to himself victoriously.

"I still don't know, guys…" Paul mumbled.

"Why not? The freak was just asking for it, for being so weird!" Butch exclaimed as he turned back to Paul, remaining standing. "You're either with us, or against us, Hannon!"

"O- Okay, okay!" Paul waved his hands in front of him in a gesture of surrender. "I- I'm with you."

"Good!" Butch kicked his chair in under his desk and they walked out the door, side by side, finally going to lunch. "Grab any garbage you can get till Wally's birthday and bag it up and stash it. We'll put everything together the morning of the party and hook it up in the auditorium when the lights are out for Hunt the Mutant."

"It's still dumb," Wally repeated, yet again, and Butch turned on his heel to wallop him—but stopped when he noticed Wally's slightly giddy smile. "But if we pull it off—she won't even see it coming."

As the boys walked on, out of sight from the classroom in confident march without a glance back, conversing about this idea or that for Wally's birthday… they hadn't noticed the two little figures that were crouched behind the water fountain suspiciously. When they disappeared around the bend of the corridor, the eavesdroppers both stepped out from their hiding spot, and glanced to one another in worry.

"Okay, it looks like they're gone…" Amata spoke as she frowned, pointing down the hall where the troublemakers had gone. "I really can't believe those jerks. This is going way too far!"

"I'm surprised that you're surprised…" Winona responded quietly, almost too quietly to be heard, while looking back at her. "This is Butch we're talking about. For whatever reason, he likes to bug people."

"Bug people? Winnie, this is more than just bugging, now! This prank he has in mind is down-right dirty. Literally." She sighed and crossed her arms uneasily, still watching down the hall where the trio had walked away.

The girls were coming back from Winona's apartment when they happened to hear Butch boasting about a new idea he had cooked up from inside the classroom. This was something the whole class was use to—Butch's schemes—but when Amata heard 'prank' and Winona's name, they took shelter around the corner and listened intently to their plans as Butch (loudly) gave it blow-by-blow to his companions. Winona forgetting her lunch pass, which was unusual for her, proved to be a Godsend rather than a mistake. Otherwise they never would have heard Butch's plan!

"…So what are you gunna do about it?" Amata asked after some moments of quiet.

"I don't have any other choice if I want to get Butch before he gets me," Winona spoke, and there was a smile on her face that suggested a cunning solution was coming to formation in her mind. "So I have a plan."

"I like the sound of that!" Amata laughed, reflecting Winona's own smile in giddiness. "Waddya need?"

"Well, for starters, I need some sturdy material for the base of my invention. I think I could sneak into the lower levels and get some of that plastic piping from Stanley's workshop—I've seen him working with them before."

"Yeah, but what can I do to help you?"

"I need elastics—rubber bands or hair ties would work—a paper clip, glue, and some sort of fastener or clip…" Winona murmured in thought.

"My dad has a huge stash of work supplies! He has these binder clips, too. Could that work as a fastener thing?"

"Wouldn't hurt to try. Then I'll get the base for my invention." She spoke as she fixed her inky black hair in its ponytail, and the two girls walked on towards the cafeteria, arm-in-arm.

"What if your dad finds out?" Amata asked as they walked, her hair spilling from behind her ear as she turned her chin down to look at Winona, who was shorter than her. "He gets suspicious when he sees you collecting up supplies."

"I'll just tell him that I'm doing a—…fun experiment."

It was the morning after the boys began their planning for pranking Winona at Wally's birthday party, and so it was time to officially put Phase 2 into action. Phase 1 was collecting up as much garbage and compost as they could—which was made easier when at the end of the night the trash bags in the cafeteria were nearly full and ready to be swindled. It was only emptied at night by waste management to be taken to the incinerator or turned to mulch, so it was surely filled with things like curdling yogurt cups and sticky pastry wrappers from breakfast, unfinished split-pea soup with soggy crackers from lunch, and mushy spaghetti noodles saturated in bright tomato sauce from dinner.

Once the garbage was collected, they stuffed it into a heating vent in Butch's apartment to help the rotting process go faster as well as create a more 'fragrant' musk.

Meanwhile, Phase 2 of the prank was Wally inviting Winona to his birthday party. Butch and Paul hung back at Wally's desk while he initiated the step, standing just outside of the classroom and talking quietly to Winona with Amata at her side. Wally made a big show out of it—arms folded over his chest, an exaggerated eye roll every once in a while that made Amata's face flush in annoyance as he recounted how his mother was forcing him to invite her. Winona looked to Amata once Wally finished explaining, looked back to him with a finger over her shoulder to gesture back to her best friend, and said something Butch and Paul couldn't hear from where they sat and observed.

"Are you kidding me? I have to invite your weird friend, too?" The two heard Wally exclaim very clearly, and Winona bobbed her head once in the affirmative. He groaned obnoxiously in annoyance as Amata bristled, still putting on his big performance. "Whatever, fine. But you better bring me something cool!"

Wally ambled back over to his waiting companions while Winona and Amata remained just outside the classroom, chatting quietly to one another. Winona shook her head once every little bit while Amata nodded hers—but Butch thought nothing of it as he turned to Wally once he claimed back his seat.

"We've got a plus one," Wally spoke. "Winona the Weirdo wouldn't come unless I invited Miss 101, too."

"Why didn't 'ya say no?" Butch moaned—in annoyance or despair, he couldn't tell which. "Now the Overseer's gonna be there since his princess is!"

"If I said no, Winona wouldn't have come at all." Wally replied coolly. "Necessary sacrifice."

"So—… the prank's off?" Paul asked a little hopefully.

"No way! I spent too long plannin' this! We'll just figure out a way around it, no problem!"

"I doubt the Overseer'll be there at all." Wally piped up confidently. "Only time he comes to any birthday party is when you turn 10."

Butch knew that well—he didn't have a big party or anything for his 10th birthday. His mother let him go and do as he pleased that day (she was too hungover to stop him, or to keep him in the apartment, anyways), so he, Wally and Paul hung out on the upper level of the atrium and shared comic books. Paul gave him Grognak the Barbarian: Issue #11, which featured Shebaba; a shaman from the Emerald Swamps that was helping Grognak on his quest for the Sword of Valor. Wally gave him a switchblade that he found on the lower levels, and the three spent a good few minutes trying to figure out how to unstick the spring so it sprung open. The Overseer found them moments after the gift exchange; he gave Butch his Pip-Boy, spewed some other nonsense about responsibility while giving him dirty looks, and then promptly left… but not before mentioning that the birthday boy was expected in his office the next morning at 9-sharp.

Needless to say, Butch was 20 minutes late because his mother vomited on the couch right as he had a foot out the door. He knew he wouldn't be able to sit still through the meeting knowing she would most likely fall back asleep in her own throw up.

"The Overseer better not be there, that's the last thing we need." Butch replied after some thought just as Amata and Winona went by them. Amata had her nose in the air like she always did, as if she were above inhaling the same air as the three of them. Winona trailed at her side and stared at them—creepily unblinking—but then looked away just as Butch balanced a one-line insult on the tip of his tongue to sling her way.

God, she's so weird! He shivered.

Mr. Brotch walked into the classroom and to the front, where from the corner of the classroom he wheeled the projector to the middle of the room. Everyone began cooing in relief at the sight of it, as it symbolized that they'd be spending a portion of the morning's lesson watching a video and taking notes instead of listening to the strict teacher drone on through a lesson.

"Students, please get to your seats. Today we're going to be going over an educational film on the formation of the thirteen American Commonwealths in 1969, so please get out your books for note-taking in the meantime." He spoke as he walked around his desk and sat down, beginning to go over the short list of attendance. Amata Almodovar, Butch DeLoria, Freddie Gomez, Paul Hannon—

"Dorothy Horowitz—?" Edwin Brotch glanced up, finding the assigned seat empty. He cocked an eyebrow. "Must still be out sick…"

Just as he was about to mark the name as 'absent' on his list, little Dorothy Horowitz—with frizzy pecan-colored pigtails tied by curled ribbons, upturned piggy nose, and small beady blue eyes—sprinted in through the classroom doorway. She was a full year younger than the rest of the class, and so was given special attention by Mr. Brotch to ensure she was learning at her grade level.

"Here~!" She squealed, her heels digging into the floor so she skid to a stop. "Present, Mr. Brotch!"

Her presence in the classroom made Butch shrink down in his seat as best he could. Butch considered pig-featured Dorothy Horowitz to be a complete royal nuisance, as every time she came near him it made him want to scream. Dorothy, for whatever reason, had a crush on him since they were toddlers, and every day it seemed that crush grew worse and worse; she'd always give him unexpected kisses on the cheek or tip of his nose or his forehead, or some of her sweets at lunch, or stop by his room to give him weird little presents after class—it never ended! He tried to make it very clear that he did not like her, but she continued to desperately attempt to get his attention... one time she even purposely tripped herself in front of him in the lunch line to see if he'd help her up. Needless to say, he, Wally and Paul laughed instead when her soup bowl flipped up into the air and landed on one of Andy's three sensors like a bowler hat.

"Ah, good… glad to see you're feeling better, Ms. Horowitz. Though late as usual." Mr. Brotch responded and immediately marked her as tardy. "Please, take your seat and take out your notebook."

As Dorothy whirled round on her heel to march towards her seat, she spotted Butch hunkered down at his desk—and rather than following instruction by her teacher, she darted towards her crush.

"Buuuuutch!" Her arms were thrown about his neck in a tight and affectionate embrace, nearly strangling the breath out of him.

"Dorothy, get the heck offa me!" He demanded sourly as he tried to pry her off of him. Who knew girls could be so strong?!

"Did 'ya miss me, Butchie?" Dorothy asked in a happy giggle, planting a wet kiss on his cheek dangerously close to his mouth. "'Cause I missed you!"

"Ew!" He shrieked, finally shoving her off just as she was about to plant another kiss on his face. Butch hurriedly wiped his cheek dry in disgust with the rolled up sleeve of his jumpsuit, against the inner crook of his elbow, as his face burned hotly in anger and embarrassment. "Stop kissin' me! I'm not your boyfriend!"

"You aren't yeeet!" She sang happily with Wally and Paul snorting in mocking laughter behind their hands at their desks with Wally mimicking how he shrilly yelled 'Ew!' repeatedly.

"Ms. Horowitz…" Mr. Brotch sighed, though it was obvious that he was more than just slightly amusedby how Butch squirmed uncomfortably in his chair. "Would you please take your seat?"

She smiled sweetly and nodded. "Yes, Mr. Brotch!" Then looked back to Butch, giggling again. "I'll be back for you, later!" She pecked him on the tip of his nose before skipping off to her desk, and he shrieked in disgust again, causing the entire class to burst into boisterous laughter.

This wasn't the first time Dorothy put on a show with him as an unwilling actor, so it wasn't the first time he was laughed at because of her, either—but oh, boy, did it make his blood boil! It made him even angrier, still, when his eyes darted from face to face in the classroom. Paul and Wally were no longer sniggering behind their hands but laughing boldly, Christine and Susie whispered quietly to each other with condescending smiles at him, Freddie remained bewildered but smiled a little anyways at the hilarity of it all, and Amata was hunched over in knee-slapping laughter.

Winona watched him from over her shoulder, at her desk right in front of his, being the only one who wasn't laughing or even smiling in mocking at him. She didn't flinch, or turn her eyes away, or even blink like she normally did when he grimaced back at her upon noticing her gaze. Winona stared at him in a way that made him feel vulnerable, like she was observing him without his consent, and looking through him in a way that was different from the adults. She looked through him in a way that didn't make him feel invisible but rather sole focus.

Mr. Brotch scolded the class to quiet down before drawling on the remainder of the class list somewhere on the edge of Butch's thoughts. The classroom went dark as Paul was instructed to cut the lights and the projector was turned on with the first video tape. When Butch came back down from his high—a fumble of emotions between residual fury, embarrassment and an uneasy calmness—he saw Winona's studying gaze still upon him.

She's so friggin' weird! Butch shuddered again, hearing smooching noises coming from back-left field behind him. He looked back to see Dorothy staring back at him from where she sat in front of Paul in the opposite row of desks; giving him batting, flirtatious eyelashes and blowing him giggling kisses. He grimaced and slumped down in his chair grumpily, turning back slightly to whisper to Wally, who sat right behind him.

"Hey, Wally."

"What's up?" He whispered back. Mr. Brotch was at his desk, too busy with grading their lengthy math tests from the previous school day to notice them.

"Dorothy isn't invited to your party… right?"

"Are you almost done, Winona?" Amata complained from where she had wilted herself onto Winona's bed, hanging over both sides and watching with an upside-down gaze. A Grognak comic book, draped open-faced, was left half read on her belly. She dropped the comic book out of boredom at her side and continued to watch the little inventor with much more fascination. Winona sat on the rug with her supplies scattered in a half circle in front of her, the items constantly changing in her two hands as she worked and pieced things together.

"These things take time, Amata." Winona replied with a distracted tone as she checked her invention over.

"But it looks done, already!" Amata whined.

"The glued pieces could snap off because they're not dried, yet," She explained as she held up the invention in upturned palms gingerly, ensuring she didn't accidentally break it. "But yeah, I think it's done."

The project resembled a makeshift handgun; the base was made from an elbow of plastic piping, the sight lining down the barrel was a reinforced paper clip bent upwards to act as a sight, and a binder clip was glued where the hammer of the weapon would be on an actual gun.

"I can't get over how cool that looks!" Amata laughed and slipped down from the bed to crawl over to her friend on her hands and knees. "What was it that Wally said? That you're not even gonna see it coming? Well just wait until they don't see this!"

"We can test it out when the glue's dry—"

"I don't wanna wait, let's test it out now!" She argued, turning over to Winona's bedside table to grab the box of assorted rubber bands she had snagged from her father's office. "Please?"

"Alright, alright—fine." Winona smiled lightly, holding a hand out, palm faced upward. "Elastic."

"Elastic!" Amata parroted with a giggle as she plucked a single band from the box, slapped it into Winona's hand, and watched as she threaded it over the sight and back to the binder clip.

The rubber band slipped out from the paper clip, snapping sharply against her knuckles, and the girls weren't feeling as confident as they were before about their plan. Determined otherwise, the inventor tried threading it through again, successful and satisfied when nothing broke off. Scanning her room for a target to use for practice, she aimed down the sight upon seeing a box of bolts sitting on her work desk, and had to use both of her thumbs on the binder clip to release the shot.

Unfortunately, the toy apparently needed much more tweaking than a better sight and hammer, as instead of hitting the box of bolts it went much more left than she aimed and rebounded off an empty soda bottle. It rocked on the desk edge, swiveling over before plummeting to the floor and shattering into big pieces. They winced in unison at the noise and looked to each other with identical sheepish smiles.

Their confidence in their plan working at all had now completely vanished.

"I swear I can fix that," Winona commented, much more boldly than she felt.

The bedroom door slid open for her father to hurriedly rush in, worried eyes darting around nervously. This was a normal scene for Winona as more often than not her inventions would get away from her, and he'd always quickly rush in to survey the damage and either calm down annoyed vault residents, or scold her for not being more careful (if he happened to be home in either situation).

It was usually both.

"I heard something break—is everything alright in here?" He asked, seeing the jagged remnants of the soda bottle at his feet. His eyes then laid upon Winona's hands at the evidence of the poor bottle's demise. He sighed lightly, and pointed at the toy with suspicious eyes. "Is that a new—... project, sweetheart?"

"…Maybe?" She replied with a bashful, but tell-all, smile.

"Winona, as your father I know that you never make an invention without an idea or reason in mind," He explained as he watched her observantly. "Which is why I'm uncomfortable with your new project looking like a weapon."

"I—…" She stammered, looking to her friend for an answer, but found Amata to be idly playing with the box of rubber bands as if they were more interesting. "…Uh…"

"Nona, what are you doing?" He sternly demanded, his arms crossing over his chest.

To call her Nona was reserved for times when she needed her father's affection the most, such as when Butch first began to bully her (the first encounter resulting in a nosebleed because she wouldn't give him her student lunch pass, and he elbowed her in the face to get her to hand it over); or when she was in serious trouble. In times where she was being reprimanded, the ushering of that name absolutely sparked the fear of God inside her, while using her full name (Winona Hope Parker) had absolutely no mentionable affect in comparison. She tried to think of a plausible answer to give him, knowing that whether she lied or told the truth, she'd be in big trouble.

So much for telling him it's just a fun little experiment…

"It's for—… Hunt the Mutant?" She spoke with an innocent smile up at him.

"Oh no, you don—Hunt the Mutant?" He asked, the concern draining from his face as he gaped down at her dubiously.

"Wally invited us to his birthday party tomorrow—he says we're going to play it in the auditorium."

"…Wally? As in Wally Mack?"

She nodded. "Mhmm."

"…As in, if memory serves me right, friends with Butch DeLoria, Wally Mack?"

Winona nodded once again.

"...Then I'm going to assume that Butch will also be there?"

For a third time she nodded, but with a nervous smile forming on her thin mouth.

"…You're going to shoot him with your new toy, aren't you?" He asked after a short calculative pause, and the good doctor sighed lightheartedly when her only reply was a wordless grin. He massaged his temples wearily. "Nona, you can't make inventions like this with the intention to hurt someone. I know Butch has given you a lot of grief, but you can seriously hurt him with that. Remember what happened when your last project malfunctioned?"

The project he spoke of was her Super Pencil. It was supposed to be an invention that carried everything anyone would need for a classroom all in the usefulness of one device, rather than a pencil bag full of them; it held a pen (in red and black ink), correcting tape, a lead pencil, an eraser, and as a last-minute decision, a pair of mini sewing scissors Mrs. Palmer let her have just for the invention. Winona made the mistake of deciding to test it out in a formal environment rather than in private (despite the device being a bit bulky to carry, but she planned on compacting it soon). It was in the middle of a science exam on the solar system when the device went AWOL and broke completely apart in her hand. Winona had splotches of black and red ink all over her jumpsuit, test, and hands, the eraser bounced out and went flying in some unknown direction, and the spring that was loaded and attached to the scissors released, flew at Mr. Brotch, and tacked him by the shoulder of his jumpsuit to the wall behind his desk.

It all happened so quickly no one (not even she) realized she was the unintentional culprit until Mr. Brotch got himself free. Winona was mortified at how close she came to seriously injuring her teacher—and she was severely punished once getting to the Overseer's office. Her father was already there by the time she arrived, which made the whole issue even worse in knowing that his work was interrupted; he'd become a certain kind of stern when he was called from work.

"That was an accident! And it wasn't a weapon, it wasn't meant to hurt anyone…" She argued. "I apologized to Mr. Brotch for that! And served detention for three months with classroom chores!"

"Be that as it may, your smarts shouldn't be squandered on building a weapon like this." He knelt down in front of her and Amata shifted away from the both of them awkwardly. "Despite the Super Pencil incident, sweetheart, I know Butch teases you, but two wrongs don't make a right. Why don't you be the bigger person and walk away instead of going to this party?"

"Because being the bigger person doesn't work," She grumbled under her breath, as she didn't dare to defy him so openly. "Because bullies don't stop picking on you just because you keep walking away, and I'm tired of him picking on me—I want to show him that he can't bully me anymore because I won't let him."

"What brought all of this up? What has that boy done now?" Her father frowned protectively, and when she didn't answer him, he looked to Amata, who winced when seeing that she was being turned to for the truth. "Amata?"

"We- Well—… Uh—…" Amata shook her head at herself, deciding that telling the truth was the right thing to do. "We overheard Butch and his friends talking about inviting Winnie to Wally's birthday party to play a prank on her… they're going to dump trash on her when we're playing Hunt the Mutant in the auditorium, because it'll be dark, so she won't be able to see it coming and stop them!"

When she concluded, he looked back to his daughter. "Amata, could you please step outside for a minute? I would like to speak to Winona. Alone."

"Yes, sir." She replied respectfully as she got up from the floor and made her way to the door, looking back over her shoulder to Winona with an apologetic look as it slid shut behind her.

Winona watched her father get up from kneeling on the floor, sat on the edge of her bed, and patted his knee for her to come to him. Biting her lip nervously, the inventor rose up and crawled onto his lap before his arms encased her in a gentle squeeze. Her head laid against his chest with an ear of his heart, which was her usual seat during their talks, because she enjoyed listening to the rhythm of his heart and how his accent rumbled as he spoke.

"I want to tell you something that my father told me, when I was young." He looked down at her, tucking her hair behind her ear lovingly. "Because when I was young—just around your age, actually—... there was a lot of fighting going on, and he taught me a lesson that I never forgot. So I want you to listen carefully to me honey, okay? Because I don't want you to forget this, either."

"Okay, dad." Winona nodded in understanding. "I'm listening."

He rolled his head over so it rested on top hers, and as he rubbed her back in circles with a gentle palm, he began to speak.

"He taught me about war… and how it never changes."

"War?" She questioned in slight confusion, but he continued on, looking down at her with a soft smile.

"He taught me that people have always hurt each other, even from the very beginning of time… weapons changed, people changed, and as these things changed wars broke out all over the world for many different reasons. Not just here—they also happened in very faraway places, too, where you can't travel to anymore. As a matter of fact you're learning about a very important war right now in Mr. Brotch's class, aren't you? The Great War?"

Winona nodded and put the gun down in her lap to wrap her arms around his waist. When she turned her face up to look at him, he lightly kissed her forehead and her anxiety was almost immediately forgotten.

"Well, as you get older, in class you'll learn about many other wars as well… and you'll learn that wars are started with the same reasons as another. Because of injustice, or differences in religion and God. Some fights began just because people were angry, scared, pressured, or even misinformed on political details… you learn that no matter the war, nothing about it ever really changes. Someone's angry, or defensive, or hurt, and someone has to lose. It looks better in your cartoons. But do you know what else learning about wars can teach us?"

"What, dad?"

"That in many situations, war was the answer when it didn't have to be. That's partly why they're put into textbooks—in hopes that history won't repeat itself. It's to give us hope that our future generations will learn from the mistakes of the people before them and realize that violence doesn't always have to be the way we handle things. Look at what's happened to us—to lots of people over 200 years—because of war. It came to a point where the aftermath can never be reversed, or forgiven. It's why we're here in Vault 101."

"But if that's true, how come nothing's changed?" Winona gazed back at him curiously. "Why did people keep fighting?"

"The Great War was supposed to be the end of the world and the end of mankind, but we've proven ourselves to be strong, haven't we? With us, we also prove that on a new day, with different tools and different names and in a different place, another fight will always be out there." He gestured to the toy gun on her lap. "This fight you have with Butch is proving that to be true—it may not be war, and I am sure you're wondering what this talk has to do with him in the first place, but when you're old enough you'll understand. When you're old enough you'll understand this conversation better, and why violence doesn't have to be the answer… do you want it to be this way, honey?"

After the toy came back into her possession, she frowned in thought as she began analyzing it with a completely different perspective. Winona watched her father as he moved her back onto the bed, and walked to the door with his words replaying in her young mind.

"He taught me about war… and how it never changes."

"War was the answer when it didn't have to be."

"Do you want it to be this way, honey?"

"…Daddy?" She called after him, and he stopped at the door with his hand on the OPEN button. She smiled upon spotting Amata scrambling away quickly to sit at the dining table and pretend that she wasn't trying to eavesdrop.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"If I still decide to do this…?"

"I would prefer you being civil with him… I think it will be easier for you as well, in the long run. Bullies might not leave you alone at first when you try to walk away, but I've seen many times in my life that they get bored when they're ignored."

"But if I decide to get back at him, will you be mad at me?"

"No. But I expect you to hold yourself responsible for the consequences, whatever they could be." He turned and strolled out past Amata at the table, who watched after him before she quickly scrambled up, ran back into the bedroom, and shut the door.

"What happened? Did you get in trouble? Are you still going to Wally's party with me? Did he yell at you? Did you get grounded? What happened? What happened?" Amata began shooting off questions before the door even completely slid shut, and Winona looked down at the toy weapon in her hands.

"He—… I'm not sure. He told me a story, I guess."

"He—… what?" She sputtered in disbelief, eyes wide as her eyebrows practically skyrocketed off her face. "When I'm in trouble, I get scolded, I don't get told a story!"

The inventor smiled a bit as she picked up the box of rubber bands from the floor, along with the other things she used to put the gun together, and carried everything to her work desk where she set it down.

"…So? What'd telling you a story do?"

"It gave me options." Winona turned back to face her friend. "So I have a new idea—and all I'll need is a little paint."