Chapter 31 "Arise"

John made his way to the debrief, finding Sara pouring drinks behind the bar for the Marauders, Crixus handing them out. Styx and Acheron were about as giddy as each other, pawing through the loot from the bank vault. Gems, jewellery, watches, John already had his cut. He didn’t see much value in it, although Robco would know, and he’d see him soon enough. Jen joined them. Dressed in the long robes of a scribe for the first time, judging by how she kept pacing and turning, adorning herself in her cut of the loot while Val laughed.

Everyone seemed in good spirits, even Sentinel Grimm. John hadn’t seen him much since running operations with Sara. He looked different to him somehow, beyond the fact he was smiling, then John realised why. Grimm wore under armour, so did the rest of the team, ready at a moment’s notice to jump into power armour. Although John didn’t think they were going to be sent out, there were too many drinks getting thrown back for that. For everyone except him. Every time John took more than a sip of vodka, Sara took it from him. Pulling at his clothing, keeping him straight and inspection ready.

The atmosphere changed as Elder Maxwell entered, things became quiet, respectful. He too wore the under armour, and on his hip, Excalibur. The shining broad sword with his call sign carved into the blade. The sheath designed to cover the razor sharp edge alone, letting the beauty of the lady’s craftsmanship show.

“Brothers.” Everyone sat quietly, fixed on the elder as he stood before them. “We gather here this night as one of us prepares to undertake a mission of his own. One that will take him far from here, one with challenges of a different nature...one that is not fit for an aspirant.” John saw a smile flicker through the faces in the room. “Aspirant John Blake, step forward.” He followed the elder’s command, standing to attention in front of the man who’d helped him so much. “Paladin Maxwell.”

“Sir.” Sara stood by him. Throwing him a wink as the elder paced, splitting his gaze between them both while he spoke in his gravel voice. “This man is your aspirant. You have been responsible for teaching him our ways. You would stand for him now and ask he be called Brother?”

“I would.”

“You would stand ready at his side and face whatever may come?”

“I would.”

“You would ask him to trust you with his life, as you trust him with yours?”

“I would.” John heard Sara’s voice break with emotion, as he tried desperately to stop from doing the same.

“Is there another who would second this man?”

“I would.” John knew the voice, although he wasn’t used to hearing it at such a low volume.

“Sentinel Grimm, a great honour indeed to be seconded by one such as yourself. You would stand shoulder to shoulder with this man on the field of battle?”

“I would.”

“Are there any others who would stand ready beside this man?”

“Crixus, stood ready.”

“Styx, stood ready.”

“Acheron, stood ready.”

John heard the Marauders stood at his back, vouching for him, welcoming him fully, ready to fight with him.

“John Blake, are you prepared to take the oath of a knight?”

“I am.”

“Are you prepared to hold the chain that binds and follow the orders of your commanders?”

“I am.”

“Are you prepared to purge this world of the horrors brought fourth by science left unchecked. To bring light where there is darkness, to bring hope where there is fear?”

“I am.”

“Kneel.”

John knelt as the elder drew his sword, the blade resonating at a pitch perfect note. The elder raised Excalibur straight up, holding it perfectly still for a moment. Then he touched the blade on John’s shoulders in turn, letting him feel the weight of the blade as he spoke.

“Under my authority as elder of this chapter, I hereby grant you the rank of knight. Arise, Knight John Blake of the Brotherhood of Steel. Ad Victoriam.”

“Ad Victoriam.” John stood to a rapturous cheer and banging of tables. The formality subsiding into celebration with a smile and handshake from the elder. Shortly before being mobbed by the team. Hugging, slapping him on the back. Val pinching his backside as she always did. Until they parted and he saw Sara before him, tears streaming down her face. She hugged him, and whispered in his ear.

“You earned this John, remember that, I’m proud of you, enjoy it.” John had never been happier. No one told him they were proud of him, not since his father died, and never for achieving something real. Here he stood, surrounded by the bravest people he’d ever met, and they made the freed slave one of them. It was the greatest moment of John’s life. Only marred by the fact Rosie didn’t see it, but they would be together again soon enough.

The elder left pretty much straight away, to let the team celebrate freely John thought, which they did. Laughing, drinking, bringing Grimm up to speed on the nights events. Mostly about the building collapse and not the horror it uncovered. No one said much about that, beyond complimenting his performance and telling him how well he’d done, Crixus especially.

The truth was he hadn’t struggled the way they had underground. After the initial shock he felt fine, he didn’t even feel his adrenaline spike. Not once, not even when he put down the sentient ghoul. Sara seemed to have liked that, although John would have done the same to that monster, ghoul or not.

Everyone sat around drinking, laughing, sharing stories from the day they were knighted. Sara kept the tone light, focused on the here and now. John understood why, he already knew that leaving would be an adjustment for him, although he hadn’t thought how that would affect the team.

He'd spent every day of the last three months with at least two of the people around him. Their relationships forged into heavy bonds under the stresses of the life of a knight. The hardship of long marches. The exhilaration of combat mixed with the elation of saving lives. The knowledge that they had each other covered, no matter what.

The celebration wound down earlier than John hoped, but he knew the toll the night before had taken on them. So he took the last of a bottle and the long way back round the wall to what would be his last night here, for now.

John couldn’t help but think about what the next few days held. Seeing Rosie, freeing her, then potentially losing her. He knew he’d done the right thing by leaving the way he did. John hoped he could get her to see that, or at least give him chance to explain. Although what once seemed like the worst thing that could ever happen, now seemed like something he could accept. Something he could get over, in time, and surrounded by his fellow knights.

John woke at six as usual, keen to treat the day like any other. Ready to serve the Brotherhood any way he could. After a few laps to drive out the mild hangover, followed by an hour on the range, he found Crixus at his bench. “Morning Brother.”

“Morning sir.” His friend held up a finger to correct him.

“Morning Brother.” John enjoyed that.

“We’re on standby, as per, what do you want to do today?” John smiled, puzzled by the question. “Knight’s make their own schedule.” John enjoyed that more.

“Hand to hand drills.” John could shoot well enough, he’d have time in the armour later. Nothing else seemed more practical than getting as much training as possible, even if he would likely be back in a week.

Most of the morning, and a good deal of the afternoon, flew by. Remaining standing under the flurry of jabs, elbows and throws he never saw coming, took complete focus.

People came and went throughout the day. Sara checked in. Styx joined the training, helping John defend against two opponents. Not something they’d put him through before, but he felt like he held his own. At least long enough to disarm one or the other.

Jen stopped by with the Overseer’s pipboy and questions he didn’t have answers to. He made a mental note of at least some of them, hoping to ask Rosie. Although given the secrets his own pipboy revealed he imagined they would be bottom of the list.

Acheron brought food, followed by a lesson with a scoped rifle. John had improved, slightly, then Val came for him. “Alright, we need to do final weight checks, pulled some crates and a net, time to pack it up.” John felt a lump in his throat, the time had come sooner than he realised.

He turned to shake Frank’s hand, not wanting to miss the opportunity to thank the man who had taught him so much. How to fight, how shed the bonds of slavery and live free, yet he couldn’t find the words. It didn’t matter. “Whatever happens John, you need a place for you or your girl, get to Beverly, she’ll look out for you both.” Frank almost whispered it, John thought he might not be the only one struggling to find the right words.

“I’ll see you soon Frank, here or there.” John let himself imagine taking Rosie to the lake, to Farmborough, it’d be a long walk but it’d be worth it.

John felt utterly useless as Val joined him at his bench. Repacking the crates he'd done an awful job of, while lecturing him on Newtonian mechanics. Apparently flying with a net filled with cargo slung below was far from Valkyrie’s favourite thing to do. Especially over unknown terrain at night, with the power reducing, noise dampening system on, and two armoured knights in the back. All the while flying low enough to map the ground below.

He’d remembered the collapsing path that nearly ended his quest mere feet from where he started. With the ladders, block and tackle, plus the cargo chains he could get the air recirc parts up there. The rest he he’d have to stash and get later. A risk, but given Robco’s feeling towards the Brotherhood he wasn’t about to drop from a bird into the middle of his settlement.

He planned like Sara would, like she taught him. Weighing up options, planning for them, then planning against them. But it didn’t matter, it all hinged on Rosie.

John stepped into his power armour, easily done by now, and loaded everything the Brotherhood provided him with. The crate containing the spare armour internals and the induction forge. Crafting materials, crates and crates of ammo, books, pre-war pouches, clothes, boots. Everything he needed to be ready at moment’s notice. By the time Val weighed it all individually then arranged it to balance, and tested it with a short flight, night had fallen. Sara came for him, a forced smile on her face.

“We got weather to the west, we’re wheels up in two.” John didn’t question the direction, he knew better than that. He secured his lmg and warhammer in the bird, while Sara jumped in her armour. John felt relieved to have her with him.

The Marauders assembled by the Vertibird, stood to attention, saluting John as he saluted them. And all to quickly the moment he feared might not come arrived.

He ascended into the night, perched on the open cabin, scanning the terrain below with the light amplifying system in the power armour helmet. His excitement, relief, and anticipation, all changing as fast as the scenery below.

Before long John saw the twisted, vengeful, City in the distance. The place that brought them together the night Sara saved him, the night he learned the word abomination. Followed by The Tower with power, glowing in the dark distance, home to Lady Luck, whose voice he'd missed. Then the red forest began to creep underneath, looking dark black and dense.

John knew he must have passed Robco’s Rest by now, well hidden even from the air. After that they slowed, flying low. Parallel to the faded, eight lane blacktop he’d spent the better part of two days walking along. Or sitting on the rolling, clanking truck with the deadly secret weapon that proved less fatal than the device on his arm. From there everything became houses and negative space, till he saw it. The Red Rocket, looking dark green through his visor. “Val, this is the e r v, eleven o’clock low.”

“Copy Ronin, slowing it down.” The twin rotor engines swung upright to allow for more manoeuvrability. “I’m getting a shudder I don’t like, think we lost a cargo strap, can you see anything Ronin?” John leant out of the hovering bird, looking straight down in a way that would have terrified the man he used to be. He looked but couldn’t make out much, then he heard the cargo scrape, followed by the chain dropping. Before he knew what happened he felt a metallic thud on his back as Sara shoved him from the hovering bird. Sending him tumbling forwards through the air. Breaking his fall through an old ruined house all while the comm blared in his ears,

“He jumped, he jumped, losing control, mayday, mayday, Valkyrie in the blind, going down, soft landing west of—”

His training took over. John ejected from his armour, tearing away the heavy metal plate. Ripping his way out the further ruined house. Ignoring his bone rattling pain, to find the Vertibird touched down neatly in front of him. Sara standing in her armour in front of him.

“Stand easy Ronin, we need to talk.” John had no clue what was happening but he felt safe. He held his tongue while they retrieved his armour, reassembled it, and walked it outside, leaving the helmet off. Val ripped an orange box from the bird and checked him over while Sara searched the nearby cargo, bringing a large ammo crate back. “Open it.” John did, and things made even less sense.

Inside, under the loose bullets, a steel, conical, shape with ominous old world symbols on it. The unearned knowledge, silent for so long, made a screaming return that hurt more than the fall. He couldn't believe what he saw. The warhead he’d help recover. “What the fuck Sara?! Why is that here?” John saw shame in her tear filled eyes, so unexpected from the leader of Maxwell’s Marauders that it washed his anger away.

“I’ve been ordered to let you make contact, deliver the parts. Then while you’re inside, arm this and take you back to the outpost alone.” She dried her eyes before the tears fell, “Orders that I’m not going to carry out.”

“Why?! Why would the elder do this, I gave him my word I’d be ready, wh—” Sara cut him off.

“It’s nothing you did John. The elder, my dad, this place...he’s not seeing things clearly. You’ve been looking for months, he’s been looking for years. He wanted this mission, fought hard to get it and he’s failing at it, it’s…he’s not himself.”

“He doesn’t trust me to come back does he.” John felt betrayed, the man he admired, believed in, hadn’t believed in him.

“He doesn’t trust anyone John.” Sara sat on the edge of the cabin next to him, trying to comfort him. “Do you remember when I told you about my time as an aspirant, the man who trained me?” John shook his head, he couldn’t think. “The man who trained me was my father’s husband, I call him my uncle, he’s family. About two years ago, he found something, a solid lead, information on what’s inside Vault X. He didn’t tell my father, his family, husband, and commander. My dad made him leave, cast him out.” Sara sounded heartbroken, yet she refused to let John see her cry. “Whatever he found out, he couldn’t trust the elder with it.”

“You don’t want to find Vault X do you?” Things began to form at least some sort of sense to John.

“My uncle has been ahead of us for years, I’m in contact with him, he says he’s closer than ever to finding it. I’m going to give him the warhead and he can make sure whatever the hell is down there stays buried.” In his confusion John had forgotten who he sat next to, the always practical paladin. Of course she had a plan, and John trusted her now more than ever.

“What’s the plan boss?” If anyone could see a way through this it would be Sara, she smiled and put her hands on his shoulder. John felt more grateful than ever for her friendship than in that moment.

“You’re going to get your girl and live the quiet life.” John couldn’t believe it, through the conflict and the chaos, Sara found a way to get him what he wanted, although she didn’t seem like it was her first choice.

“Wait, you’re going to tell the elder I jumped out and ran aren’t you, that’s why you pushed me, then pulled the recorder.” He saw how hard it’d been for Sara to put in motion. He felt sick with the realisation that he would be considered a traitor to the Brotherhood. “You’re going to tell the elder I broke my oath.”

“It’s the only way. I’m going to tell him that the cargo net got damaged, that the warhead came free and you saw it and panicked. Then before we knew what happened you’d jumped, grabbed it and ran. It keeps you safe, your people safe, and gets my uncle something to destroy Vault X with. But I need you to hear me John, you’re not breaking your oath, you’re following orders, my orders.” He couldn’t be angry with her, she hadn’t done any of this out of self interest, almost the very opposite.

“Can you tell the team, please, I don’t want them to think I betrayed them.”

“Crix knows, I’ll tell Styx and Acheron when we get back, I promise.”

“And Grimm too?” They’d all stood for him, given him the gift of their knowledge. He couldn’t stand the thought of them thinking the worst of him. Sara forced a smile and nodded, that gave him some small measure of comfort.

“All of this is short term John. Right now my Dad is heading west, orders from on high, which means I’m in charge, for a few months at least. We’re going to fake the flight data, make it look like we went west not east. If we come looking for you it won’t be anywhere near here. Crix said he can reach out and find you both a place somewhere.”

“I’ve got a place, quiet, they won’t find it.” Robco had been right about the Brotherhood, half right at least. Sara was definitely a good person, even if the organisation they both still believed in let them down.

“Where?” John hesitated for just a moment, it didn’t feel like his secret to share. “I need to know if I’m going to avoid it.”

“West of here, half a day’s walk from Shadowtown.” There didn’t seem much sense in keeping anything from Sara now. Save for the existence of another jet black pipboy attached to Rosie’s arm. And another still belonging to their childhood friend Dutch, who neither of them had seen in years. If the Brotherhood were going to come for someone, better it be him. “What happens if they come for me?”

“They’re not going to kill you John,” He didn’t like the emphasis on ‘you’. “I don’t want to fire on your Brothers, best thing is to run, if you can’t run, surrender, then we’ll take it from there.”

John sat quietly, adjusting to his new reality as an outcast. Something he hadn’t done in months, hiding from the very people he wanted to join. “Why did he knight me?” John didn’t know whether he wanted the answer or not but he needed to know if he’d fallen for another lie, another false promise of a noble life of service.

“He knighted you because you earned it. You’re a damn fine soldier John. Once this is all over, if I still have a command, there will be a place for you, no matter what.” He had to fight back tears, no one ever praised him before a few months ago. It was real, he'd earned his rank, he did belong somewhere at least. “I know this is a lot to take in, I wish we didn’t have to do this, but we’ve got a long walk.” She punched him in the arm to boost his spirits, “And you’ve got a date waiting on you.” John did, and he wanted to be there when Rosie made her escape more than anything.

Armoured up, without helmets, Sara helped John stash everything other than the air recirc parts in the Red Rocket. Trying to make it look innocuous by placing an old tarp on top of it, he felt ok with leaving it. Still no sign of anyone had been here, only him, almost exactly three months ago to the day.

Next he helped Sara dig a deep hole and bury the weapon of mass destruction. Then she showed him how to make contact with her. Using fruit juice mixed with vodka in the perfect ratio to write invisible numbers on paper that showed when held near a flame. Or under the uv penlight she gave him. Too imprecise for words, instead she taught him to use his copy of ‘A Brief History of Warfare, Vol I.’ as a code. Writing sets of numbers that corresponded to pages, lines, and words. John did his best to focus, although he started to understand Sara’s dislike for couriers.

“Listen, I need to tell you about the night we met.” Sara had the look he’d seen on her face before. Though now John understood it, guilt, burdened with knowledge she had to share. “They sedated you, while the scribes were going over that thing on your arm it electrocuted one of them.” She must have seen John’s face drop. “He’s fine, that’s not it though, the other scribe, bright spark that he is, used your own arm to try and the work the buttons. This time it electrocuted you. Your heart stopped, and that fucking thing triggered a self-destruct.” John wanted to throw up, he knew what he heard must be true, Sara wouldn’t tell him otherwise.

“What happened next?”

“You’re welcome.” He owed Sara his life twice over, and so much more. “We also took x rays...you know what I’m going to say don’t you.” She could read him pretty well by now.

“It’s not just on my arm, it’s in my head.” Sara deserved the truth, his truth at least .

“More than your head, it’s wrapped your entire skeleton in something. If someone did try to cut your arm off they wouldn’t get through the bone. What do you mean it’s in your head?”

“Sometimes it tells me things, shows me stuff, it’s…it’s like a heads up display inside my eyes.” It felt surprisingly good to say it out loud. “Here, shine this in my eyes.” John sat back as Sara tried to hide her shock. It only grew as he told her of the slowed time, the nightmare, dreamlike state, the red outlines that he’d seen at the missile silo. She took it better than he expected.

“What do you mean it tells you things?” Practical as ever, she needed the information.

“Things about guns, calibres, range, it’s like I already knew it, I just didn’t know that I knew till it told me. Like when I plugged the four pin into the Vertibird for the first time, it gave me a headache, but it told me how to fly it.” Sara’s eyes widened as she looked to Val, sat quietly in the cockpit, letting Sara and John talk.

“It’s true boss, he can’t fly combat and he’s too heavy handed, but he has the basics down.” John smiled, high praise indeed from the finest pilot this far east. Sara took his helmet, reaching inside and pulling out a small silver box,

“You know what this is?” John shook his head, he thought it was just a battery.

“This is a flight recorder, a black box for the armour. Look what it plugs into.” John did, seeing something familiar. He connected the wireless four pin, reading a message he’d seen before, he showed Sara. “Remote override?!” John connected the helmet back onto the T-60 power, and hit yes.

The armour shunted into life. More active than the guard mode it had been left in, mimicking him as he walked, raised his arms. All without a knight inside. “Put its hand out.” John did, Sara placed the recording device in the open, mechanised palm, and he crushed it into dust. The robot hands copying his own.

“Alright, keep the Vertibird. We were going to blow it, at least this way it’ll be useful, but John, it’s for emergencies only, copy?” He looked to Val first. She looked pleased at the thought of not destroying the bird she’d flown all this time, modified with extra speakers to map the terrain below.

“Emergencies, solid copy.” John knew the time had come for them to leave. He could handle things from here, especially with a bird of his own, but the pain of separation had begun to creep into all of them.

“Alright flyboy, don’t get near the outpost, keep the dampeners on, stay low, fly at night, and it’s not for wastrel joyrides.” Val ran her hands over the shining bodywork, saying goodbye to another friend. “Don’t be so rough, and make sure you check the tires, and keep it clean, and…and don’t…” John saw what Val was doing. Trying to stave off the goodbye for as long as she could by telling him things he already knew.

She burst into tears and John embraced her. Val didn’t even try to grab his backside as she usually did, too upset, so he took her hand and placed there himself. His discomfort a more than fair price to pay to hear the winged goddess giggle one last time. Without looking back, Valkyrie grabbed her backpack, plus her assault carbine, and set off walking. Leaving John with Paladin Maxwell.

John stood before his commander, his instructor, his saviour three times over at least, and his friend. She removed the heavy, dull cloak from her armour and threw it around his, clipping it in place, making sure it hung right to break up the shape. “Sara I—” She cut him off, refusing to let him see her cry, projecting the strength a good leader should.

“Knight John Blake, you are hereby ordered to find your girl and go live the quiet life you deserve.” She stood to attention, saluting, prompting him to do the same.

“Yes Paladin Maxwell. Thank you, for everything Sara.” He knew he couldn’t say goodbye properly, they both had their missions. She needed to stay focused on hers, and he knew they’d meet again, somehow. Sara turned, entering her armour with grace, and started walking away, along the road into the night. Leaving John truly alone for the first time in months.

Eager not to dwell on the thoughts and feelings of betrayal and goodbyes, John loaded up the Vertibird that now belonged to him. Walking the armour via the pipboy controls felt unnerving after Sara’s revelations of something around his very bones. Alongside a self destruct system like the armour he controlled remotely. He pushed them from his mind, Rosie would know what to do, and she drew closer by the minute.

The air recirc parts, along with the ladders, slid into the open cabin with ease. John hoped that he took off in time for Val and Sara to hear him switch on the noise dampeners. Disappearing into the night above as they grew ever further apart.

From above, aided by the spotlight, John found the rotting wooden house he’d entered after leaving the Vault three months ago. Touching down in the fenced off area behind in a way that Val would have liked.

Taking only his assault rifle, and the rose carved pistol holstered high on his chest, John went on a quick patrol. Checking for any sign of life, human or otherwise, as he’d been taught.

Everything looked deserted, it seemed he’d been the only person to come through the old houses in decades. He even returned to the upstairs bedroom, the scene of the murder suicide not frightening to him in the least now. It felt near laughable that it once did. John took the old double barrelled shotgun and tossed it in the bird, although he hardly needed it. Unlike the first time he tried to grab it.

The feelings of shock at how simple, safe, and easy, everything felt didn’t stop as he climbed to sloping hill behind the house. He remembered staggering down it, dazed, stumbling, the fear of the unknown. Now it felt little more than a walk, nothing compared to even a single lap of Grimm’s obstacle course.

As he turned the final bend the cave entrance loomed into view. Just beyond the path that had collapsed underneath him as he staggered blindly into the new, old world. Even the gap seemed smaller, easily bridged with the ladders. Traversed with balance the obstacle course drilled into him. Then he saw it, the vast, round, cog like door that kept him underground all his life.

The first thing he did, the first thing he should have done after leaving, was to check the outer terminal. All in order. He could have opened the door then and there, but didn’t want to take that from Rosie. Judging by the time, she would be making her own escape in little over an hour. Nothing for him to do except wait, which turned out to be far more difficult than waiting in the outpost.

John paced back of fourth, looking out onto the world below, watching the sunrise. Trying to not to picture throwing his arms around Rosie, lifting her clean off her feet, knowing she may walk right past him. Although he hoped she might as least hear him out, come with him to Robco’s Rest, meet Wallace. He stopped his thoughts dead, breathing deeply, slowly, to steady his nerves. Grateful he hadn’t eaten in a good few hours, wondering if it still counted as too early for a drink if you’d been up all night.

Then he felt it, small at first, vibrations, heavy engineering stirring into life. With one last straightening of his under armour, John stepped in front of the Vault door. Metal screeched against metal, rolling to the side, revealing a figure stood beyond it. Shiny blue suit, jet black pipboy, and something he hadn’t expected. Dark black hair, not the red he hoped for.

It wasn’t her, instead a man he didn’t recognise, not at first anyway, but the pipboy like his gave it away. Dutch, the only other person he knew that had one. “John, is, is that you?”

“It’s me Dutch, don’t worry it’s safe to come out.” John held his disappointment and questions, remembering how overloaded he’d been when he opened the door.

“Oh man, you and Rosie really burst the shit pipes when you left, everything’s been crazy. Level one is locked down, no one has been lower than level four in months, no work, nothing.” John tried to process the information but couldn’t get past the first thing his old friend said.

“Wait, Dutch,”

“Rick is pretty much in charge, you know Rick right, Vault Sec answer to him now. People are living in the stockroom, even moved the frames up there. You can go to the Rec deck whenever you want!” Dutch babbled at him about the events of the last few months, his nervous energy taking over.

“Wait,”

“Then we found out that we had real food in here, tons of it, man it tastes great. You just add water and—” John grabbed his old friend, putting one hand on the back of his head, covering his mouth with the other. Stopping before kneeing Dutch in the chest to wind him as he’d been taught. John saw fear in his eyes, fear that the outside had twisted his friend into to someone who wanted to hurt him. He hated that, but he needed him to stop talking, which he did as soon as John let go.

“Dutch, I’m sorry, I know you’re scared, I know you have questions, but I need you to answer me first.” John stepped back, looked his friend in the eye, and asked about the only thing he cared about, the only person he wanted to see. “Where’s Rosie?”

“She’s with you…isn’t she?”