Fallout 1. Chapter 1

**If you haven't read Effects, you might need to but not really. Evil!Karma Lone Wanderer. The Vault is open to anyone, not just for trading.**

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><p>She twirled the pistol in her hand, a psychotic grin on her face. She lowered it as she passed the raider; she was trying to drag herself away from her attacker, legs broken at odd angles. One bullet in the back of the head and the raider ceased her movements, body going slack in the dry Wasteland dirt.<p>

"And that makes 322," she grinned, stuffing her pistol into the holster on her right hip. She looked around at the bodies sprawled in the dirt. "I think it's time to head on home, what you think?"

Dogmeat barked once, head low as he panted, blood staining his muzzle. She grinned and slid her glasses onto her eyes, walking towards the gate leading out of the old baseball field. Dogmeat jogged behind her, keeping his nose to the ground. The dog was unfailingly loyal, she never had to worry about losing him and that was perfect. She had a hard enough time keeping up with her cigarettes, let alone a dog that wouldn't leave even when she pretended to shoot his foot.

He just _grinned _at her.

"_I don't wanna leave the congo oh no, no, no, no,"_ she sang in time with the radio on her Pip-Boy, waggling a finger in the air as she cocked a hip.

Dogmeat barked, as if in support. She laughed loudly and twirled, arms spread out at her sides. This was the life, roaming wherever she wanted to, singing in her awful, cracked voice with no one but a dog to judge. And the dog was pretty much her biggest supporter. She didn't know what other life there was to lead, but none of them could compare to this one. She was the Wastelands biggest threat and Three-Dog supported her even though she had pulled a couple of good deeds. Like killing those cannibals in Andale, helping Harkness with his Zimmer problem, escorting that idiot to Big Town. Of course, she killed him afterwards. And she constantly stole from Harkness' quarters, and she had helped herself to some of the strange meat in the fridge at Andale but Three Dog didn't know any of that. And what he doesn't know can't hurt him.

"I wonder if Roy and the others got everything in order at the tower," she mused out loud.

Dogmeat barked and jogged ahead of her, sniffing at the ground. She scowled at the dog but continued behind him, humming along to the radio until Three-Dog's voice cut through the air.

"That Vault girl is at it again, hacking and whacking and smacking all over the Wasteland. Might need to take to calling her Butcher Pete these days," she giggled, actually thinking the name through. Though, she would prefer something besides Pete. "Latest news on our favorite little Vault dweller? She was last spotted leaving Arefu where the settlement has been hit hard by a murderous gang of riotess ruffians…"

Oh yeah, Arefu. Vance. She wondered how they were doing. She hadn't been there in over a month. Was that all the information that Three-Dog had on her? She had been doing a hell of a lot more than that in the past week alone. Ike – as she had taken to calling herself to anyone that she met – often wondered who Three-Dogs informant was. It could be a Brotherhood soldier. Maybe that Gallows fellow. Sarah (Lyons) had told her that Gallows was a part of Lyons Pride and was a field agent. If anyone saw the mysterious soldier, they were already dead. That didn't make much sense, but Ike understood what she meant. That would seem like the likely candidate, seeing as Ike's perception was shit and half the time she ran into the sides of the shacks littered across the hot ass Wasteland.

"I say," Ike skipped for a moment. "After we rest up, we head off to Underworld," she froze, watching a giant Radscorpion scuttle across her path. But it was paying attention to the Mole Rat hissing at it. "I gotta pick up some things. You ready for a bit of a journey?"

Dogmeat yipped and continued to jog. Ike smiled and reached back, scratching at the bottom of her scalp, picking a scab out of her hair. She needed a haircut; maybe she would get Godfrey to do it when she got home. Or was its name Wadsworth? Whatever its name was, it could cut some fucking hair. And dye it, which really surprised Ike. But the pink was shitty and kind of rusty-looking but the hair cut was nice. Several of the previous residents of Tenpenny Tower said it was so unlady-like. It was long on one side and shaved on the other, uneven because she had been tromping around the Wasteland for quite some time.

"Three-Dog needs some new music," Ike scowled, turning off the radio.

Dogmeat grunted and so did Ike. The hill they were climbing up was pretty steep but once they crested over the top of it, Ike smiled. Tenpenny Tower stood proud in the distance, lit by the afternoon lights from the new guard towers on the concrete walls around the tower. Tenpenny thought his small handful of guards would keep their little tower safe? Ike had learned rather quickly that raids were too regular for the tower and Roy had seen to fix the problem by placing guards around the walls. The raids had lowered to just a trickle instead of a full-fledged flood like it was when Tenpenny was in charge.

"Ya know, these disappearances without notice are really aggravating."

Ike grinned at Roy as he pulled the gate open for her. She helped him shut it, grunting as the rusted gate gave them much resistance. The wiring had been ripped free by a guard that thought the immobile gate would affect the new residents. His mind set was a mystery, but he was dead now so it didn't matter.

Ike huffed and placed her hands on her hips while Dogmeat jogged over to one of the beds the guards used and curled up on it. Ike looked over at Roy, grinning at him lopsidedly. "Would you believe me if I said I was actually doing _good _this trip?"

Roy snorted. "I don't believe much of what you say."

Ike shrugged and they started walking towards the front door. "I wish Three-Dog didn't believe in anything I said. When I first met him, I was the prodigal daughter, the Masiah," she grinned at him. "He still thinks of me as such and it just amazes me."

Roy smirked opening the door for her. "The stories I could tell him…"

Ike nudged him. "Don't say anything, it's the only thing keeping the Regulators off my back and Talon off my trail. Everyone has mixed emotions over me and it's just fine with me."

"You're psychotic, you know?"

"That's what they all say…" she chewed on her bottom lip, stopping him with a firm hand on Roy's bicep; he looked down at it then back up to her. "There's something I wanted to talk to you about…"

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><p><strong>Short start I know, but they get longer. I promise.<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

"Well, you sure you want to do this?"

Ike tapped her cigarette against the side of the ashtray and reached for the whiskey that was in front of her. "I've been thinking about it," she mumbled, pouring a small amount of whiskey into a cracked glass. "But, I'm not sure if I'm ready for it. Or…if he's ready to see me."

"In all your horrid glory?"

"Exactly," she sighed and took a small sip. "Then again, it's his fault I'm like this in the first place…"

Roy nodded sideways for a moment. "Yeah, that's true," it wasn't, just in her mind, so he played along. "When will I see ya again?"

"That's the thing," Ike looked over at Roy with glazed eyes. "I don't know if I _will_ be back this time."

Roy stared at her in silence and after awhile, she took to her whiskey again. The lunch hall was empty, the only sound playing was the elevator music wired through the entire lobby and shops around the tower. Ike hated that, the way he would grow quiet when she told him something like this. What did he expect from her? She wasn't invincible, though most of the Wasteland saw her as such; Roy was one of her biggest fans, and she hated that fact.

"You'll be back," she looked up at him from under her brow, blowing smoke from the corner of her mouth. "So when?"

She paused. "Give me a month…maybe…"

Roy shook his head and took the whiskey bottle from the table, putting it to his lips. "Alright then, I'll keep that robot in line. Every time you leave for too long, he goes a little crazy."

"Maybe I need to get him a friend," Ike hummed. "I'll talk to Tinker Joe about that so he won't give you so much trouble when I'm gone."

"Good," Roy muttered. "You turnin' in for the night?"

Ike nodded and pushed herself out of her chair, leaning over the table as she snuffed out her cigarette. "Goodnight, Roy," she pressed her lips in a chaste kiss against his right cheek.

He watched her leave, teeth grit and left hand curled into a fist on the table top.

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><p>Getting ready for a long trip is easy when you are a complete sociopath.<p>

You don't need anything.

Ike looked back over her shoulder at Tenpenny Tower, at it being overshadowed by the hill near the Outcast fort. She hated leaving home, but this needed to be done. For some reason, over the past couple of weeks, she had been thinking about finding her father. The reason behind that? She didn't know and wanted to. She didn't hate her father, she was just angry enough to want to see his corpse rotting somewhere just so she can hate herself for not saving him later.

"Think I'm doing the right thing," she muttered.

Dogmeat barked, ears perked up at something in the distance. Was that howling? Ike ignored it and sighed, adjusting the bag on her shoulder. Ok, so she didn't leave everything behind. It was just a few things that weren't for her. She always had her stimpaks in the pocket of the lab coat she wore. It fit snuggly over Raider Badlands armor. How it was armor, she had no fucking clue, but it kept her cool during the day and the coat kept her warm at night so no complaints, though she would prefer to be naked all the time.

But there was that whole rape thing so fuck it.

"Hold it right there," Ike froze. "Turn to your right slowly and raise your hands where I can see them."

Dogmeat growled but Ike kicked some dust at him and he laid in the dirt, growling into his paws. When she saw the Outcasts, they seemed to roll their eyes through the helmets. What?

"Oh great, it's you," the soldier lowered their gun – by the voice, it was a woman – and Ike lowered her own hands. "Why are you near our fort?"

Ike hadn't even noticed.

"Well shit, I wasn't paying attention. I'm going to Rivet City."

The soldier nodded. "Alright, you can pass through. Just make it quick and do not approach the front of the building."

"Whatever…"

She had run into Outcasts more often than once in the Wasteland, but had never even come close to Fort Independence. She really needed to start paying attention. She had heard the soldiers manning the front gate were shoot-on-sight unless you were called for in advance by the soldiers in the field. It seemed like a crap system but whatever floats your boat. It seemed to be working for them so she supposed she had no room to knock.

"I wonder where dad is, what he's doing," it was weird talking about him.

She hadn't spoke of or tried to find her father since she found out what a raider was. Hell, Ike _was _a raider. Not every established settlement of raiders knew who she was, but the lab coat in the middle of the Wasteland was a dead giveaway. The only other people she had seen with a lab coat outside of the Vault were the people in Rivet City and even they feared the sight of her coat.

But, back to her father. Since she took up the role as raider, Ike had been consumed in tromping across the Wasteland. She had been consumed in killing things, finding seemingly rare trinkets and other things, she hadn't thought of finding her father. He decided to leave her, she could take her time in finding her answers. He could wait….

Couldn't he?

Thinking.

Ike quickly turned on her Pip-Boy radio and let the sound of 'Butcher Pete' dance over the dry sands of the Capital Wasteland.

She grit her teeth, her hips snapping right and left a little more sharply than before, Dogmeat struggling to keep up without running. She was angry, she was angry at herself. She didn't want to think about her father. She didn't want to think about him even though that was the whole point in her leaving Tenpenny Tower. She just wanted her legs to carry her where she needed to go without her thinking about it like they usually did.

She could do this.

She could do this.

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><p>"It's your fault."<p>

"How is this my fault?"

"Titties. Titties everywhere."

Ike looked down at her tits, seeing them about to bulge out of her top. She giggled and set the heavy piece of machinery down, pushing her boobs back into her top and grinning at Harkness. He was glaring at her, eyes narrowed to slits. So her tits had distracted him and he dropped the monitor on his foot? How could he be angry about it?

"Come on," she picked up her equipment. "Don't blame me or the girls, blame your traitorous hands. And those eyes."

Harkness grumbled and picked up the monitor, grunting ever-so-slightly and they began to head back towards the Science Lab. "Maybe if you would keep yourself properly clothed…"

"Oh please, if you wouldn't have hurt yourself, you wouldn't be complaining right now."

"Yeah, you would be trying to get into her pants."

Ike glared over her shoulder. "Shut up, Butch."

He snickered and began to walk behind her, close enough for her to feel his breath across the top of her head. "Come on, girly, now you're just saying that because you would have so easily let him in."

Ike laughed. "He wishes."

"I'm still here ya know."

"We know," Butch tried to drape an arm over Ike's shoulders, but she kicked her right leg back and into his knee. "Fuck…"

"That's what you get."

He grumbled after her for a moment and then jogged to catch up. "What're ya doin here?"

She looked back at him with wide eyes for a moment and then looked forward again, watching Harkness greet one of the lab workers as she opened the heavy door. "Looking for dad," she mumbled. "Heard Doctor Li knows where he went. I'm here to talk to her."

"That prudent bitch," Butch scoffed. "She won't tell ya shit."

"Oh ho ho," Ike mocked. "So, she brushed off your advances too? Butch, you need to learn that you can't worm your way into just anyone's pants out here?"

Butch sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, stuffing his free hand into his front pocket. "So I've been told," he side stepped Harkness as he brushed past them, looking a little distressed. "I need to get laid like something serious."

Ike barked out a sharp laugh, setting down the heavy box-thing in her hand, making sure it was secure on a table before she turned to Butch. She cocked a hip and gripped them in her hands, smirking at Butch.

"Listen, you don't have to keep chasing tail. You can come out into the Wasteland and take it with me."

At that, Butch scowled. "Um…no thank you. I may not be the best man, but I'm not like…that."

Her smirk didn't waver. "Well, suit yourself. Now, I'm gonna go talk to this bitch. Why don't you scamper off somewhere?"

Butch left without another word, not the least bit concerned in her anymore. That made her smirk waver and she dropped her hands. What was happening to her? If Butch wasn't in for a bit of pillaging, why was she?


	3. Chapter 3

**_Sorry it took me so long. *sigh* don't need to explain, being an adult is hard. And yes, this is short but the length of the chapters are all dependent on my mood. And right now, this is all I can come up with. Hopefully the next chapter will be longer._**

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><p><em>She's holding the gun.<em>

_She's holding it like a baby, like that baby. She's dirty, literally coated from head to toe in grime and blood, some that isn't her own. Her partner clicks in her ear and as if on command, a dog taught to shake, she raises the rifle and fires once, twice. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. The rhyme sung by an old woman she thinks was named Beatrice hums in her ear, that melancholy tune dying on dulled eardrums._

_He clicks._

_She darts out of the cover._

_The thing about her was, she was fast. Probably the fastest in the Wasteland. And it didn't come from years of training, it didn't come from some kind of ancient ability – it just came naturally. It wasn't like it ran in her genes, it was just her only way of survival for a long time. And it had come in handy. She moved across the sand like a jack rabbit. A jack rabbit with a laser rifle as an arm._

_Bare feet, catching rocks, spilling blood._

_He's still clicking in her ear. A trainer, unlike any she has had or will ever have in the Capital Wasteland._

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><p>Ike's eyes are open after she's out of bed.<p>

She blinks, lids fluttering, and she notices she is standing in the center of the room she rented from Vera Weatherly. Her shorts are giving her a major wedgie and she can't decided whether or not her shirt is too tight. It feels too tight, but that could just be the dream still lingering on her mind. She shakes her head, rubs the back of her forearm over her eyes. After a moment of painful blinking, she finally pulls her shorts out of her ass and heads over the sink. The water is cold, the water tastes like rust and she cleans her face with it. She had a shower the previous night but now she is covered in night sweats.

Her back prickles at the rhythmic thumping on her door. "Ike," his voice is thick, slow. "Are you awake?"

"If I wasn't," she grunted, pulling on her armor, her coat. "How the fuck would I answer you?"

Harkness stares at her blankly from the other side of the door; she can see Butch laughing in the lobby of the Weatherly, munching on chewy white stuff with Bryan Wilks, a little boy Ike wanted to keep for herself. Her attention goes back to Harkness, she's the same height as him, and she breathes in deeply. Ike is simply not a morning person. Hadn't always been that way, but the past few months had been getting to her. So many things going wrong, so many things thrown at her when she was barely out of the Vault. No one was giving her time to catch up, they were just throwing her out there.

But whatever, she caught up.

Somewhere…

"Ike, do you even listen?"

She glared at him. "Shut up," she pushed past him, started for the door at the end of the creaking hallway; it smelt like mildew. "What did you want, Harkness?"

He was silent until they hit the tower stairs. "I wanted to know what you planned on doing."

She paused, looked back at him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," he spoke slowly and that only made her want to punch him. More. "What are you doing? You don't come this close to the ruins without some kind of serious plan in mind. So, I wanted to know what you were doing. If I can help?"

Ike stared at him, actually shrugged. "Um…I don't really know what I'm doing. I was thinking of going after my father but I…I'm confused on where to go."

He sighed. "Can't help especially when you're blind, but if there's anything –"

"I don't need anyone," she growled and kicked past him, slamming the heavy iron door in his face.

Breathing heavy, she started across the bridge. Why did everyone all the sudden give a fuck about what she's doing? Since she got out of the Vault, no one but Gob cared. And his care was limited, he had his own fucking problems. Like keeping the drunks in the bar from attacking him, keeping himself from shooting them repeatedly. God, if Ike didn't want to kill one of those bad-mouthed motherfuckers. They could be dicks, but they didn't need to be racist. Ghouls were the same as them, just without some of their skin.

"I'm worried about you Ike," she kicked a can from out of her path. "I don't want you getting hurt, Ike," she kicked the can again. "Fuckers."

No one wanted to talk to her, no one wanted to deal with her mood swings. She hated everyone, they all wanted her to do errands for them, wanted her to fetch their toys and kids. She wanted to nuke the place. She didn't really blame her predeccessors. She would nuke the whole God damned planet just to get rid of those assholes all over again. Who wants to live in a world filled with evil people that wanted nothing but to be mean, to rape and torture…what kind of world was that?

"Fucking Wasteland," she growled.

And then that can rolled back into her path.

She blinked, watching it roll past her, over cracked concrete, over the edge of the pier and into the water. She cocked her head and then growled, pulling her gun out, twisting to the right. Pain bloomed over nasal bridge and she gasped, stumbling back, gasping for breath, tasting rust.


	4. Chapter 4

When she woke up, Ike could feel the swelling on her right temple. She couldn't open that eye and groaned when she tried to blink, her left eye hazy as she blinked away the blood and sleep.

The air was cold and stale, the walls metal and reminding her of either an abandoned Vault or one of the subway offices. She tried to stand but found her ankles were bound to the legs of the chair she was seated in, her wrists tied with rough ropes behind her back. She looked around, her heart beating fast in her chest. Where the hell was she? What had happened? Right, right she was knocked out by some asshole near Rivet City. Why hadn't a guard seen her get attacked? Well, people were attacked in the Wasteland all the time. It wasn't all that abnormal or alarming unless she was inside the city.

"She's awake," someone said from behind her.

Ike growled like a feral beast, glaring with her one open eye at the tall, normally imposing figure now standing above her. "Oh course," she quipped. "Well Jabsco, I see your eye isn't infected like I expected."

The tall man looked down the length of his nose at her, the outside of his left eye ringed in pink beneath the grubby bandage he had taped over it. He looked nothing like his soldiers, dressed in heavy metal armor and a combat helmet that was hooked to his belt loop. He was also clean shaven, almost sparkly. Without the scar, she had thought he would fit in well in the Vault. But then he was firing at her and trying to stab her with that modified combat knife and she realized he would rather eliminate the Vault dwellers than join them.

"Ike," he chuckled a little. "The great Lone Wanderer, savior of the Wastes, in the hands of Talon Company, at our mercy. Pathetic, just pathetic."

"Pathetic," Ike snickered, twisting her wrists, trying to pull herself out of the chair but failing. "Pathetic is the leader of the most feared mercenary group in the Wasteland being attacked and maimed by a little girl from a pampered Vault. Now _that _is pathetic you piece of sh-"

Her head snapped to the right as he landed a heavy flat palm connected with her face. She choked out a clot of blood, spitting it on the metal floor at her feet. She began to laugh, grinning at him through matted hair. She didn't care about his ploy, his arrogance or his heavy hand. She didn't care about anything anymore. Maybe this would be the day he finally killed her.

"You hit like a bitch," she snarled.

He struck her again, this time with a closed fist, and she still laughed.

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><p>Harkness was making his rounds through the lower deck, getting ready to retire to his cot in the tower. It had been a long, uneventful day since Ike had departed and he was more haggard than usual. Maybe it was that whiskey he had with lunch, it hadn't tasted right and Bonnie was known to slip things in her booze. Mentats perhaps? Mixed with alcohol, it made a lagging downer.<p>

He paused as he passed the open door of Butch's small rooms, seeing the three shotguns and a pistol lay out on a small plastic table in the corner of his room. he was wearing light weight leather armor and strapping these weapons to the police-issued holsters strapped across his chest. Harkness finally spoke as Butch shook on his Tunnel Snakes jacket.

"And what are you doing?"

Butch looked over his shoulder for a minute, the young husky-mix pup on the naval cot lifting its head. Harkness wondered briefly where the mutt's father was and then brushed away the curiosity as Butch looked back at him. He pats his thigh, calling the dog forward as it was trained well.

"Going to find Ike," Butch muttered.

Harkness paused, following Butch towards the hangar door. "Wait, why would you want to do that? She said she didn't want anyone following her."

"I don't care what she said, something is going on with Ike," Butch huffed, his shoulders shaking at the chilling air that swept over the bridge. "I don't trust her to be out there alone with a loaded gun. That bitch has always been crazy but…she's never been so unstable."

"And you think going after her is the best idea? When she doesn't want to deal with anyone? When she's aggressive towards those thought to be close to her? What if she turns on you?"

"She's not a wild animal!"

The mutt growled lowly behind his master, who had whirled around to make eye contact with the security guard behind him. Harkness stared at him with those now-aware, artificial blue eyes. As he blinked, Butch could see the extra lenses that made his lids move slip, let him see the glimmer of metal. Butch never trusted the artificial man, never liked him. He had spent his entire life surrounded by electronics and Harkness, despite his new awareness with Ike's help, was just that: a machine.

"I didn't say that," Harkness spoke slowly. "I'm just saying…"

"You don't know Ike like I do," Butch growled, turning his back on Harkness. "She wouldn't hurt me…and a guard said he saw someone getting attacked near the old purifier Ike's dad was working on all those years ago."

Harkness sighed. "It doesn't mean it was her."

"Harkness, can you just piss off, alright?"

The security officer did stop, watched Butch walk down the ramp and into the metaphorical sunset.

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><p>"I feel like shit," Ike muttered, rubbing her bruised jaw.<p>

She had been trapped in this hell hole for God-knows how long. She had been interrogated, that was what it felt like. But they hadn't asked for anything. This wasn't just the Talon Company being a dick to their number one target, this was them looking for something. But they would have asked…she sighed, moving so she could place her head between her knees.

What the hell could they be looking for? She didn't know anything, not anymore. The only thing she knew was where her father was, and that was months old news. It was…baffling. For the first time in a long time, Ike didn't know what to do. The Lone Wanderer was her moniker and she really held up to it, she was always alone. Hell she didn't even bring Dogmeat on most of her journeys anymore. She was always able to figure out her own problems, figure her way out of a tight spot.

How was she going to figure this one out?

She looked up at the clock above the door, half hidden by pipes and grates. She raised an eyebrow and stood, padding towards it slowly, staring at it with intrigue. Ike hummed, walking back over to the cot she was given. She chuckled and raised her right leg, slamming her foot down on the cushion. It groaned and shook, but didn't give. She frowned and then did it again, grinning madly as it finally shook and collapsed into a heap on the floor.

"Seriously? They didn't think of this?"

Ike wrapped her fingers around the metal bar sticking out of the wall, a metal bar that once held her bed. She grit her teeth and groaned, pulling on the bar with all her might. It groaned, creaked and she hissed. Her eyes grew wide as she tumbled back, the bar in her hands. She caught herself and then blinked a few times. She tossed the bar into the air, catching it so perfectly she wished she had a camera to capture the moment. Oh how she would enjoy someone else to see that awesome little tid bit.

But the Talons would be enough.


End file.

Fallout, Adventure, Tragedy