Resting before they went after the Forged, they were fortunate the Finches had a spare bed, allowing Heather and him to get some needed rest.
Helping the Finches collect their fruits and vegetables the next day while Heather finished resting, Mason wiped the sweat off his forehead as the sun rose. As the Finches woke up, Mason walked up to Curie, figuring out what she needed to talk about.
"Is now a better time to converse?" she questioned.
"Everything alright?"
"On the whole, no. It is not. I have spent much effort gathering information in our travels so far. And my self-diagnostics have come to a grim conclusion. It is not lack of data or lack of collaboration which stifles my scientific progress. The inescapable truth is there has never been a great robot scientist."
"Your research ain't all that bad," Mason tried to reassure her.
"You are polite to say this. But if something does not change, my efforts will be mere stagnation. The greatest scientific minds, the Einsteins and the Curies, my namesake, have had something beyond raw data analysis capabilities. They have had a spark. This elusive inspiration is something I must possess."
"Worryin' me, Curie. Can you elaborate?"
"There is no need to worry. If I am to advance my understanding of medicine in this strange world, I must embark on a great adventure. I must become human, or as close as I can. I must find a way to download all that I am into a human brain."
Was something like that possible? Sure, Mason heard of synths, but generally, they looked and acted too much like a machine to blend in, though what happened in Diamond City suggested otherwise.
"Don't need to be an Einstein. World needs doctors, not people playing God."
"Those that know things, guard them jealously. The Brotherhood of Steel, the Institute, they horde knowledge. The only way we will progress as a society is in the free flow of ideas. If you find someone- a brain surgeon, an artificial intelligence programmer, or someone who is an expert in matters of the head, please bring me to them."
That raised a few questions. How did she know about the Brotherhood of Steel? Mason hadn't brought them up in front of her before, and if he did, he didn't really say much. Heather may have, but it didn't explain how she knew what they did. As for the types of people she was looking for, it was likely impossible to find either one.
While eating, Mason spoke to Abraham about leaving the Power Armor there while clearing out the old ironworks, taking the cores with them. After putting his armor on, Mason shouldered his bag, grabbed the others, and began their walk.
When Mason heard about the Forged, he'd hoped they were better than normal raiders. At least better fighters than other raiders and Super Mutants. Even better than the synths they'd fought. Maybe a few firetraps. But they were... disappointing.
The first two Mason gave a pass to, having caught them off guard. While they had managed to warn their friends, he snapped their neck before they pulled out their weapon, Heather turning one nearby to ash.
Making sure his helmet was secure, Mason turned to Heather.
"Time to fight," Mason muttered, getting ready as one charged towards them.
"I got your back," Heather responded, Mason going down the steps.
Blocking a bat as one swung at him, Mason kicked the man back, swearing he heard something break. The guy went down, holding his family jewels, while Mason picked up his bat. Swinging the back, Mason smashed the man's head in, preventing him from recovering. Honestly, Mason winced when he kicked the guy. Got kicked there before when a woman mistook Mason for his brother. Needless to say, Mason cursed him out when he saw him.
"Let's go, bâtards," Mason growled, a Forged woman running towards him with a flamer. Mason thought it felt more like hot air despite the fire hitting him, the flames going around the armor. Grabbing the bottom barrel and nozzle, Mason stopped it from doing any more damage, bending them in two different directions, the heat from the flames heating the metal. The woman was surprised, dropping the flamer and pulling out a tire axe, trying to hit Mason's shoulder. Turning to the side, the axe barely scratched Mason's armor.
"Play nice," Mason responded, grabbing by the throat and wrist, lifting her off her feet. Bending her wrist, he forced her to drop the axe as she began to claw at him, trying to make him let her go.
Punching her in the stomach, her clawing stopped as Mason dropped her, clutching her stomach. Stomping her head into the pavement, Mason stomped three times, putting her out of misery. Grabbing the woman's axe as a man began shooting his pipe rifle, Mason launched it at the man. Embedding the axe in the man's head, it had broken through a helmet, getting stuck there.
"Worse fighters than raider," Mason commented, turning to one hiding in a trailer-like structure connected to the main building. Struggling to pull out her pistol when he looked at her, the woman screamed, backing away from him.
"Go away, fucker!" she screamed, voice quivering.
"No," Mason growled, lifting his leg, pulling out his knife. "Did you leave those farmers alone?"
Stepping closer, the woman fired, a few bouncing off his helmet and chest. Kicking her in the knee, Mason forced her to the ground before grabbing her by the face, lifting her off the ground.
"Join your friends," Mason barked, stabbing her in the stomach. Twisting the blade, Mason pulled it out before dropping her, the woman trying to crawl away.
"You... bastard..." she grunted, leaning against the wall.
"Your boss is next," Mason growled, turning to the front.
Collecting ammunition off the bodies, getting some caps, they left the flamers and armor, the flamers just being dead weight, the armor being worthless.
"Was that necessary, Mason?" Curie asked, walking by the body of the last Forged.
"No. Can't fire a gun right now. Hard to stab the heart if you don't know where. Have to get the blade between ribs. Besides, better to try to prevent raiders from setting up here," Mason said, turning to the building. "Now to take care of these overglorified raiders."
Not sure what he was expecting when he walked in, Mason was surprised by the lack of items and blood. It looked pretty standard, save for a few things here and there. Crouching, Mason snuck down the left path, leading to the back. Running into a Forged, he stopped them from yelling, stabbing his knife into their neck. Looking out, Mason saw they didn't have much of a choice and turned to Heather.
"Time to do this loud and proud," Mason whispered to her.
"Are you sure that is wise, monsieur?" Curie asked. "Surely you don't have to resort to violence."
"Well, these guys are of the shoot first, ask questions later variety," Mason pointed out. "Besides, their raiders with an unhealthy obsession with fire. Nothing too hard." Not giving her time to respond, Mason stood up and yelled, "Cerveaux de flamme!"
Jumping over the railing, Mason ran to the other side, jumping over a rolling conveyor. Slamming into a raider pulling their gun, Mason grabbed him by the throat, lifting him off the ground. Mason pulled out his knife and jammed it into his throat, going through a gap in the helmet and armor.
Standing up as he set the body down, Mason staggered forward, something hitting his helmet. Mason saw a raider, combat rifle out, and aimed for Mason. Seeing their friend beside them, Mason growled.
"Taking that rifle," Mason commented, stepping forward. Both realizing the situation they were in, they opened fire, Mason rushing forward. When he got close, the woman threw her pistol to the side, pulling out her flamer, getting ready to fire. Stomping on the stairs, the raiders stepped back, Mason's foot denting the platform.
When the woman fired the flamer, Mason rushed forward, grabbing it by the nozzle. Forcing the weapon out of her hands, Mason stomped on the barrel, making the weapon useless. Slapping the side of her helmet, making her head turn, Mason brought the woman down.
"Fall over too easily," Mason muttered as he grabbed her by the front of her armor, dragging her over to a smelter. Holding her over it, she screamed at Mason.
"Wait, I'll do anything! Just let me go!" the woman screamed, desperate for Mason to let her live.
"Then die," Mason growled, releasing his grip on her.
Dropping her in the liquid metal, she screamed, burning alive. Noticing Heather had turned the other guy to ash, she looked uncomfortable. Sighing, Mason pulled out his blade, turning back to the burning Forged.
"Gonna miss ya," Mason said, looking at the combat knife as it embedded itself into the woman's skull, ending her screams.
"Let's go," Mason commanded, grabbing the combat rifle as he climbed up the steps. Curie tried to say something as he passed, but he continued forward, looking for a way around besides those doors, looking for a way above.
Finding a way up top, Mason looked down, surveying the area. Three people and a turret. Calling the others up, Mason let them know what they were up against. Mason made his way down when they were ready, making his presence known.
"Cerveau de pisse!" Mason roared, running towards the nearest one.
"Fuck off!" the man yelled, kicking Mason. Wrapping his arm around the leg, punched the man across the face, knocking him to the ground. Grabbing him by the front of his armor, Mason lifted the man off the ground, throwing him into the ceiling of the room they were in. Standing, the Forged was coughing, gasping for air.
"What... are you?" the Forged wheezed. Not answering, Mason hit the glorified raider in the throat, making them fall back to the ground.
"How is that possible?" Curie gasped, the man falling to the ground dead. "The probability of threat... I didn't know it could be done!"
"Curie, stay back," Mason commanded, moving forward.
Turning to the other two, Mason charged forward. The woman swung a tire iron, aiming for his shoulder. Turning, Mason socked her in the nose, iron glancing off his armor. Staggering back, the woman grabbed her nose, blood pouring like a leaking pipe. Kicking her in the stomach, Mason forced her to the ground. Grabbing her by the back of her armor, Mason tossed her over the rails into one of the smelters. Landing headfirst, the raider didn't feel anything as she went in. Turning to the raider and turret, Heather had already taken care of the raider, in cover reloading her rifle. Pulling out his pistol, Mason fired six rounds into the turret as it began firing, blowing it to enfer.
Mason sighed, finding some iron knuckles made for armor penetration, knowing these would help. Walking over to the door, Mason was about to walk in before Heather stepped in front of him.
"Your arm is bleeding," Heather commented, Curie coming up with Dogmeat.
"You're point?" Mason remarked, shocking the two of them. "It's a graze. Nothing more, nothing. Let's go."
"Not until you let the mademoiselle patch you up," Curie insisted, getting in front of him.
"Let's get this over with," Mason grunted, sitting down as Heather took out a pad and warp, moving Mason's armor to get to the wound.
Turns out, it wasn't a graze. The bullet had pierced the armor, embedding itself into Mason's skin. Getting some help from Curie and applying her medicine to it, Heather put the pad on the wound, wrapping it after injecting a stimpak.
Drinking some water, Mason grunted, standing up.
"Let's get this done," Mason muttered, tossing the bottle into a smelter. Opening the door, someone was kicked from above, landing in the smelter below.
"If they try to leave, kill them. You must be pretty strong to make it here," a man, whom Mason assumed was Slag due the Power Armor and sword, said, two raiders closing the door behind them.
"Wasn't much. Just raiders flinging fire," Mason scoffed. "A man in Power Armor? Hardly a challenge."
"Most of them were never gonna be worth forging in the first place. See, Jake here's someone who might actually be worth my time. Unlike you," Slag said, Mason turning his head to see the kid he was looking for. Couldn't be older than eighteen.
"But... but I brought everything you asked for," Jake tried to reason, making Slag laugh.
"Stealing things from your family doesn't prove your strength, boy. Though this wonderful sword you brought does put me in the mood to give you one last chance to prove your worth. What do you say? Kill that prisoner and prove that you aren't completely useless."
"You said we'd be raiding outside the Commonwealth. These people aren't even a threat to us!"
"Prove to me that you can kill. It's him or you."
"Oh god, what do I do, what do I do?"
This made it easier. Now Mason knew the kid's heart was in the right place, just going the wrong way about doing it.
"What about your family? Would Abraham want you to do this?" Mason asked him, hoping the kid would see reason.
"I thought he hated me. Did... did he send you here to find me?"
"No. But you can still turn things around."
"You're right. It won't be easy, but I can still make things right," Jake said before turning to Slag and telling him he was refusing to join. Mason didn't remember what he said due to Heather making a comment that made him laugh internally.
"Oh goody! More assholes with fire."
Knowing a fight was about to break out, Mason grabbed the nearest guard by the door. Slamming the guard into his friend, Mason knocked them both to the ground, jumping back as the others began firing. Charging forward, Mason ducked under the swing of a Forged, coming up and backhanding them across the face. Kicking him in the stomach, Mason knocked them back into the smelter, making them fall back. Putting on the knuckles he found, Mason ran up the steps to take care of Slag, surprised by his laser rifle.
Mason ran up to Slag and got his fist ready, kicking off the wall. Striking the man across the face, he grabbed the Power Armor, swinging behind him. With the fusion core exposed to him, Mason began hitting the Fusion Core, trying to make it unstable.
"Stop it, jackass!" Slag yelled, backing into the wall with Mason on his back. Mason felt the pressure, gasping as his armor began to break, air leaving his lungs. Placing his hands on the arms, Mason began pushing, grunting in pain.
"No," Mason growled. "Not... today!"
Bringing his arm back as far as he could, Mason swung, fist connecting with Slag's jaw. Mason began gasping for air when Slag staggered to the side, feeling some ribs cracked, the wall behind him chipping.
"That... was a mistake, boy," Slag growled, looking at Mason, raising his fist.
"Could say the same... for you," Mason grunted, raising his fists.
"Die, kid!" Slag yelled, charging forward, swinging for Mason.
Ducking under the guy's arm, Mason came up, punching the guy across the face.
"You're in reach!" Slag yelled, wrapping the metal arms around Mason, putting pressure on him again.
Not saying anything, Mason brought both fists onto Slag's head, hitting his ears.
"AAGGHH!!" Slag roared, releasing Mason as he went to grab his ears. "You bastard!"
"Power Armor... doesn't make you invincible," Mason grunted, a rib probably broken.
"Jackass!" Slag yelled, charging at Mason. Ducking under his arms, Mason gets behind, wrapping his arms around his midsection. Pushing forward, Mason rams Slag headfirst into the wall, smashing his head.
Releasing the frame as it fell, Mason took deep breaths, trying to catch his breath. Slowly standing, Mason stumbled forward, falling by the sword.
Coming to, Mason was aware of his armor being off, along with his shirt. Trying to move, Mason groaned, pain flaring in his ribs.
"Careful, monsieur," Curie said, hovering nearby. "You have broken a rib."
"Noted," Mason remarked, reaching for his bag. "Was a stimpak used? And where's Heather?"
"No stimpak. And on your legs."
Looking down, Mason saw Heather lying there and sighed.
"Worried her, didn't I," Mason remarked, pulling out a stimpak and water. "Gotta get her something."
"I believe she would be glad you are safe," Curie stated, Mason injecting the stimpak into his chest.
"I can try. Can't promise anything."
Looking beside Curie, he saw Jake standing there.
"I, uh. I messed up pretty bad. I... I'm sorry. Look, I... I should probably try to make amends. I know I've got no right to ask...But I bet if you're there to explain, things with my dad would go easier. I bet if you bring my great granddad's sword, he... he'll make it worth your while. He always deals fair with people. I'll wait for you by the overpass near the farm."
Mason stood up, letting Jake go ahead, laying Heather's head down on the rolled-up sleeping bag. Going downstairs, Mason found the settler that had been tied up waiting for him.
"Thank you."
"No problem," Mason remarked, drinking his water. "Got a place to stay?"
"There's a place I was heading too. County Crossing. Heard it might be nice."
"It's a safe place," Mason remarked. "They support the Minutemen. In return, we keep 'em safe."
After thanking Mason again, she handed Mason a few caps, though he didn't need them. Walking back to Heather, Mason sat down beside her, hand on her shoulder as he looked through the Picket Magazine beside a bobblehead. After half an hour, Heather woke up, looking at Mason.
"Sorry about that," Mason remarked. "Didn't mean to break a rib."
"Can't blame you for this one," Heather said, stretching her arms. "He was wearing Power Armor."
After putting the magazine and bobblehead away, Mason stood up, pulling Heather up.
"Well, time to get back to the road."
After collecting Slags laser rifle, Mason led the way out after putting his armor on, finding dead Forged on the roof, burn holes in their armor.
"Your work," Mason remarked, looking at Heather.
"Yep."
Chuckling, Mason walked to the side, finding a way down. While there wasn't a ladder or stairs, Mason lowered himself to the ground. Catching Dogmeat as he jumped down to Mason, he heard machinery nearby, turning to see an assaultron charging.
"Merde!" Mason yelled, ducking under the laser as it hit the wall, rolling back to avoid it. Charging forward, Mason caught it by the claws, going down to one knee as the rib pain flared. Grunting, Mason stood, struggling to get up. Pushing the claws back, the assaultron began readying its laser.
"Not today," Mason grunted, slamming his head into the assaultron. Seeing it aim its laser again, Mason did it again. And again. And again. Repeat the process, Mason kicked the assaultron back, the face plating covering the laser.
ZZZZZ
Looking at the machine, the faceplate had melted, the assaultron swinging blindly. Pulling out his pistol, Mason stood behind the machine, pistol aimed at its head.
After he pulled the trigger, Mason turned around, seeing a gunner. Putting his pistol away, he walked towards the gunner slowly.
"Let's go, mother fucker! You and I, one on one!" the woman yelled, making Mason sigh.
"Alright," Mason muttered, putting his hands up, prepared to throw them.
Ducking under her swing, Mason planted a fist in her stomach, uppercutting her after pulling back, making her stagger back.
"Disappointing," Mason commented. "Should've gone for the gun."
"Shut up, asshole!" she yelled, kicking at him. Jumping up, Mason kicked off her chest, knocking her to the ground, air leaving her lungs.
"Unfortunately, for you, you have armor. Means your death will take longer," Mason growled, grabbing her by the top of her chest plate.
"You... bastard..." she grunted, gasping for air. "I'll... kill you...."
"Unlikely," Mason responded, placing a hand on her jaw.
"The Gunners... will hunt you... down..."
"They can try," Mason remarked. Snapping the woman's neck, Mason dropped her, picking up a piece of armor that looked like a child's art project. Mason met up with the others, putting it into his bag, and they began walking back to the Finches.
Meeting Jake by the overpass, telling Mason felt like he'd throw up. Likely from the nerves. Walking up to the farm, Mason did what he could to calm Jake's nerves, making the boy feel better as they neared his family.
"What the..." Abraham yelled, seeing Jake. "Boy, I told you that if you ever showed your face here again I'd-"
"Abraham, what's going on? Is that my boy come home?" a woman, who Mason assumed was Abraham's wife, interrupted.
"What? Jake's back? Oh, thank God," another guy, looking a lot like Jake, said, jogging up to the little gathering.
"Papa, please. I... I know I screwed up pretty big. I... I thought if I joined up I could... keep them from raiding our farm. I didn't... I don't want to hurt anybody," Jake tried to explain.
"I don't care what you thought. I told you-"
"Abraham Francis Finch. That's enough!"
"Mama, I-"
"Shut up Jake. If I hear anything out of either of you, you'll both be peeling potatoes for the next year. I've watched you two go at it for years and tried to let you sort it out for yourselves. Abraham, your son is a grown man and if you expect him to act like it then you'd better stop treating him like a child. Jake, your father and I have been out there, and we know it can be dangerous. We just want to make sure you're prepared. There. It's over... And if I hear another word about it from either of you, so help me...."
Well, that was a scary woman. Reminded Mason of his mother when she got annoyed by his old man. And nobody won when that happened.
"She's right, I've been a fool," Abraham told him. "There's no way I can thank you enough. Here's the caps we agreed on, plus a bit of extra for helpin' my boy. I think you should hang onto that sword. It's put a smile on granddad's face to know it was being used to help people."
So... Mason helped the kid and got a sword in the process. That was nice, but he needed to talk to Heather and Curie. Now that this whole business with getting this guy's son back was over, his head was finally screwed back on right.
"Is everything alright, Mason?" Curie asked, Mason approaching them.
"Uh, yeah. Trying to think of what to say," Mason admitted, taking his helmet off, never having been one to apologize for stuff he did growing up. "I'm sorry. For the way, I acted at the ironworks."
"Was everything alright? You seemed more aggressive when you fought."
"I suppose it was because of what Abraham said," Mason admitted. "I guess when he said he didn't care about what happened to his son, I got annoyed, leading to me being more reckless."
"Don't forget, people care about you," Heather commented, making him rub the back of his head as he turned away.
"I'll try to remember that. Now let's get ready. Could be a potential settlement going to the North."
Mason stepped into the Power Armor and found he couldn't move as fast as usual, making Heather question it.
"In my case, Power Armor just helps with defense," Mason explained. "I can lift more than this rust bucket. Need to modify it to carry more."
"Want to leave it here?"
"No. We'll leave at the next settlement we stop at. Their shack has little room as it is. So better to leave it elsewhere."
As they moved, Mason stomped with each step. Walking into a woman with red hair, she came up to Mason.
"Hey, I got a question for ya. I've got a really top tier piece of cow flesh for sale if you know what I mean," the woman said.
"Does it belong to you?" Mason questioned, her choice of words being odd.
"Wha- what do you think, it's stolen, or somethin'?"
That confirmed it; she had either stolen or found it, although Mason had no idea where from. "What would I do with one of these?"
"What would you do with a... oh, you're serious? Well.... Whatever you want. Some people use them for farming, I hear. Increases productivity quite a bit. That's what I hear at least."
Deciding to get the thing, Mason figured it'd be better in a settlement than in the wild. Counting out a hundred caps, Mason handed them over to the woman.
"Sure, I'll take her."
"Oh, great, great. Just tell me where you want me to take her, and she's all yours."
"The farm behind us," Mason responded, pointing to the Finch Farm. "Now if you'll excuse us, we must get going."
***
"This armor feels more protective than T-60 ever did," Mason remarked, noticing something like a pool ahead. It had been nearly three hours since they'd been walking, so seeing a settlement was a pleasant sight. "Probably because of the way I move."
Heather was going to say something, but a ghoul walked up, approaching Mason.
"Welcome to the Slog. We're the only tarberry bog in the Commonwealth. Name's Wiseman, I run the place. So what do you think of the place?" the man asked, Mason looking around. After studying the place, he answered.
"An old swimming pool. Like the way you think."
"I appreciate your saying so. When I came across this place, it was the first time I'd seen anything like it, It seemed like a shame not to use it for something. You've probably noticed it's only ghouls around here. I used to live in Diamond City until that rat bastard mayor threw me and all the other ghouls out. I decided that we ghouls should have a place where we could feel welcome, and that's mainly why I started up this farm."
"Why'd that connard throw you out?"
"We're ugly, we turn feral and kill people, we give the kids nightmares, all the usual stuff we get from you smoothskins. Now it's true there was one incident in Diamond City where a ghoul turned feral and someone got hurt. But I ask you this- how many humans have suddenly turned violent and killed someone? I've seen it more times than I care to admit. What if this place could be more than a refuge for ghouls who aren't welcome elsewhere? What if it could also be an example of what we can do when we put our minds to something and work together? We want this to be a place that everyone looks forward to visiting, with smiling faces, good bargains, and great produce. Maybe we can make people take a second look, you know? Maybe then they'd see that we're not monsters."
"I'd be glad to help," Mason responded, taking his helmet off to flash him a grin.
"We do have a problem," Wiseman said. "We can't sell tarberries without traders, and trade caravans need safe roads. There's a gang of Super Mutants that's been preying on anyone who comes near their turf, including traders. It'd be a great help to us if you could take care of those brutes once and for all."
"Where are they coming from?"
"Breakheart Banks. It's just down the road from here, keep heading west and it'll be on your right. Hard to miss them."
"I'll be leaving the Power Armor here. I'll take care of the problem."
Leaving the Power Armor in the building, Heather left hers with his, and after taking out the fusion cores, began their trek to the area.
Crouching down as they walked along a trailer, a Mr. Gutsy and an assaultron were fighting a bloatfly, and Mason was going to let them decide who he fought. Leave them with less work.
Pulling out his rifle, Mason got ready to fight, the Mr. Gutsy the only survivor.
"Let's go," Mason said, moving forward.
Turning, the Mr. Gutsy went to shoot its laser, But Dogmeat got a hold of it, pulling the arm down. Firing, Mason went for the thruster, Heather going for the main body. After firing a few more bullets into it as it went down, Mason lowered his weapon.
"Heather, need you to search the Mr. Gutsy," Mason told her, turning to the assaultron. "I'm going to check the assaultron."
Kneeling beside the assaultron, Mason began to take it apart, most of it useless from all the weathering. After breaking off its back plating, Mason grinned.
"Circuit board," Mason mused, carefully prying it off. "Can use it for a computer." Standing, Mason grabbed the others, and they began walking.
Finding the place, Mason surveyed the area, leaving Heather with Curie and Dogmeat. After scouting, Mason went back to the others.
"Curie, stay with Heather. Only shoot if they get too close," Mason said, turning to Heather. "Go for the head. Dogmeat will stay with you, I'm going to get close and knock them to the ground. Fortunately, while they're strong, they're also slow."
"More Super Mutants to kill. Yes!" Heather commented, making Mason chuckle.
"Let's get work.
Mason charged forward, putting on his knuckles, the first mutant roaring when it saw him.
"Stupid human!" it yelled, running at him with its board raised. Ducking under its swing, Mason punched it in the groin, coming back up and punching the back of its head. Bracing himself for a Super Mutant hound, Mason punched up, catching the creature by the jaw as it lunged.
"You're big," Mason grunted, punching it in the snout as it tried to get up. "Fought bigger."
Dropping to his back, the creature lunged at Mason. Kicking up, Mason sent it flying back to its owner, the mutant yelling as Heather turned it to ash.
"Die!" it roared, firing an assault rifle at Mason. Rolling away, a few bullets glanced off Mason's armor. As the mutant reloaded, Mason got up, charging at the mutant. Punching it in the gut, the mutant fell to its knees, Mason standing over it. Grabbing it by the back of its head, Mason slammed his fist into its face, caving it in.
Turning around, Mason staggered back, something hitting the middle of his helmet.
"Dead human!" a Super Mutant yelled, cheering way too early. Mason's vision was blurry now, some lasers going through the crack in the glass. Fortunately, it did nothing to his hearing or smell. And mutants smelt like crap.
Charging forward, Mason ran side to side, the laser hitting the ground behind him. Mason grabbed the Super Mutant by the ankles, breaking into a slide, pulling his legs out from under him. Standing, Mason took deep breaths, Heather turning the Super Mutant to ash.
"Behind you!" she yelled, Mason ducking and kicking back. Feeling whatever his foot hit break, a Super Mutant roared in pain.
Catching the scent of the mutants, Mason turned, getting ready to fight.
"Die!" a mutant yelled, charging at Mason with a hammer. After waiting, when Mason knew it was swinging its hammer down, Mason turned his body, the handle sliding along his armor, head going to the ground. Sending a puncturing knuckle into its jaw, Mason felt the bone break as it staggered back. Twisting his body, Mason sent another knuckle in its cheek, knocking it to the side. Hearing nothing but Heather come up to him, Mason turned to her.
"Is there any left?"
"Took care of him," Heather responded, placing a hand on his arm. "Can you see right now?"
"Extremely blurry," Mason remarked. "Mind holding my hand while leading us back to the Slog?"
Taking a minute to register what he said, Heather grabbed his hand. Mason didn't know what she did at that minute, though it didn't matter at the time.
"Curie already got the ammunition and weapons," Heather explained. "Knew you wouldn't want those left behind."
"Well when we get back, gotta inject a stimpak into my head. A laser got through the helmet, now I can't see worth a merde."
"Monsieur, must you be so vulgar," Curie questioned. "If you must, please do it less."
"To be fair, I'm not saying anything in English," Mason told her. "Everything I say is in French."
"I don't understand what he says unless he explains it," Heather commented. "I don't get why, but I've accepted it. It's who he is."
"World is stuck with me now," Mason joked as they got moving.
After Heather set Mason down in one of the chairs, he took off his helmet, wincing when the air hit the wound.
"That looks like it hurt," Wiseman said, approaching Mason. "So I guess we don't have to worry about those mutants?"
"Won't be a problem. Want to thank me, just remember it was the Minutemen who helped."
"I won't forget what you've done for us...." Wiseman said before trailing off, waiting for a name.
"Just call me Mason for now. It's my name."
"Thank you, Mason. We won't forget this."
When Wiseman went back to work, Mason didn't need his vision to know it was night. For one thing, everything was dark. And for another, the nighttime music on the radio was playing.
"You can't be so reckless, monsieur," Curie scolded as Heather sat next to him, applying medicine to his forehead.
"Would've been reckless if I forgot the helmet," Mason reminded her. "I'll see what I can do about increasing the defensive capabilities of the helmet next time we're in Sanctuary."
After Heather finished wrapping his head, she hoisted Mason up by the arm, leading him to a bed.
"Rest up. We've got a long day tomorrow," she said as she laid beside him.
"Wouldn't have it any other way."