Annalee managed to pull Jason onto the front steps of the Museum, but she couldn't go on any longer, both her body sore from the earlier fight with that monstrosity, and her earlier injuries from the raiders.
"Help me please! Jason's hurt! We need to go now!!" She cried out, not wanting to set him down onto the floor where his wounds would get even dirtier.
"Sturges?! Preston?!" She screamed, but the dented helmet made her slightly muffled. She groaned and tried pulling him up another step and reached over with her leg, pounding on the doors as though she were frantically knocking.
Preston finally burst out of the Museum, a wide smile on his face, "You actually beat the Deathclaw- I can't believe it-" he froze mid-appraisal after noticing the state the two were in.
Jason writhed in her arms, trying to escape her grasp, wanting to touch and scrape at his face as blood covered his eyes, mouth and nose. He breathed heavily and spat often, as blood would drip into onto his lips and into his mouth like poison.
"Please-" she sobbed, noticing only now that tears were streaming down her face, "help him."
"Jun, get a stimpack or two out of my bag and hurry! Mama Murphy, we need your head wrap!"
Jun returned to Preston's side with two stimpacks in his hand, while Mama Murphy quickly hobbled over as fast as her old legs would let her and unravelled the scarf from on top of her head, revealing short white hair.
She and Preston carefully laid him down on the steps and Preston pulled out a can of clean water from his inner coat pocket.
"Guess I won't be drinking this later," he laughed dryly as he started to drizzle water onto Jason's face.
Jason clenched up and Annalee held his arms down as he struggled underneath the two, as the water stung as it helped clean his wounds of blood and particles of dirt.
She tried not to look at his face, the gashes that tore his flesh making her sick to her stomach. Pieces of skin seemed to peel back from his wounds that continued to bleed, four large cuts across his face and a small piece of his right nostril missing.
Jun helped once again with the stimpacks.
"H-hopefully this will help him heal faster, and deal with- with the p-pain," Jun stuttered and drew back once he had finished, no longer wanting to share the close space they were taking above Jason.
With Mama Murphy's blue worn head-scarf, Preston started to bind it around Jason's face, hoping to help stop the bleeding and cover the wounds.
"He needs stitches badly, but I suggest we hurry to shelter in Sanctuary before we start trying to patch him up," Preston stated.
After they finished, Annalee finally started to breathe normally again and let her adrenaline wear away from both the fighting and caring over Jason. Jason also calmed down as well, his breathing stabilizing, but his jaw was still clenched tight at the pain. She reached up and took off her dented helmet to breathe fresher air.
"What did you call that thing?" Annalee finally looked up at Preston.
"That's called a Deathclaw. It's one of the most dangerous creatures in the wasteland."
"And is that what you call this place now? A wasteland?"
"Well, to be fair, everywhere is a wasteland now. Boston and the surrounding cities? We refer to them as the Commonwealth."
"Interesting," she stated, and looked down again at Jason, who was mumbling incoherently.
"So you're from before the war? What was it like?" Preston asked her.
"I.... I'd rather not talk about it right now," she said, looking away, "Well, we should probably get Jason back to Sanctuary and you all to safety. I don't want to find out what else is out here right now," she smiled sheepishly, her eyes darting back to Jason and then to the road.
Preston helped her pick Jason up, but he knew she had changed the topic on purpose. Maybe she wasn't ready to talk about that stuff yet.
They all started making their way down the road, occasionally stepping over pieces or bodies of raiders.
"I can't believe they took down a deathclaw," Sturges muttered to himself as they passed by the large dead mass of the creature.
"This might come in handy," Mama Murphy chuckled and picked up the horn that had been blown off.
They continued up the road, passing by the Red Rocket Truck stop where they had found Dogmeat. The dog followed closely behind Annalee and Preston as they carried Jason back to Sanctuary. He whined, not knowing why his newfound companion wasn't walking himself.
They finally crossed the bridge and entered the neighborhood. They walked down the road until they stopped at Mr. Petrio's old house right across Annalee's old home. The other neighbors were all huddled together under the open garage, waiting for them to return, not knowing what to do with themselves in their broken down homes.
"There are other people here?" Preston exclaimed, his eyes wide.
"These are the rest of the vault dwellers, frozen with us," Annalee stated.
Her neighbors finally spotted them and left the small fireplace they had built in the driveway, crying out with excitement that they had returned with help from Concord.
"Annalee, oh darling, you're back!" Mrs. Cofran ran up to her and patted her cheek until she stopped, suddenly looking down at Jason, "What happened to him?"
"We ran into some intense fighting. A Deathclaw in fact." Annalee answered as they laid him down on a mattress.
Mrs. Cofran looked at the small rag-tag group of settlers accompanying them, straining her neck to see if her husband was tagging along in the back.
"Where are the others? Who are these people?" She walked in front of Annalee and stopped her in her tracks, "Where is my husband?"
Annalee bit her tongue, briefly reminded of his untimely death in the abandoned building in Concord. His quick, but violent, demise.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered, looking at the ground, unable to look Mrs. Cofran in the eye.
"What does she mean, Mom?" Cindy spoke up, as more of the vault dwellers approached the group, wary at the sight of new people.
"I told him h-he shouldn't-" Mrs. Cofran grabbed her daughter and held her tight, sobbing uncontrollably, trying to comfort her daughter who hadn't had the time to fully process their small family's loss.
She turned towards the power-armored woman.
"Where did you get that armor young lady?" She glared at Annalee, a menacing tone arising in her voice.
"What do you mean?" She answered, stepping back.
"It was on a rooftop mam," Sturges tried to step forward but Mrs. Cofran pushed him back.
"Don't you come near me you scoundrel! How do I know if you-" She pointed her finger in Annalee's face, "you didn't just murder my husband!"
"Hey, now wait just a minute-" Preston tried talking, but the other vault dwellers started to mumble amongst each other, frightened and afraid.
"You might have even tried to kill Jason as well! And what about poor Mr. Pietro? Did you kill him too you lying chinese communist bitch?!"
Mrs. Cofran lunged at Annalee, but Preston intervened, grabbing her from the side.
"Hey, get your hands off of her!" Mr. Able spoke up and punched Preston to the side.
"You aren't going to take over our neighborhood!" He swung again at him, but Preston dodged away, letting Mr. Able fall to the ground. The other vault dwellers began to yell along with Mr. Able.
"Please Stop! The truth is that your husband was killed by raiders in Concord, Molly!" Annalee yelled over Mrs. Cofran's sobs and her fists trying to pound onto her power armor, as well as the riled up group.
"And, if you don't recall, my family is from Japanese descent," Annalee growled.
"That doesn't prove anything," she turned to the others in the group, "We can't let her come back here and take over! She's going to kill us all. Have we even considered she was responsible for her own husb-"
Annalee's fist met Molly Cofran's face before she could even finish her sentence. In hindsight, she would later realize that it was overkill, her being in power armor and Mrs. Cofran being recently de-thawed and all, but she had heard enough. All her life people had tried to call her a communist or that her family were spies. They've commented on her weight and her face looking different. She had learned over the years to not care in the slightest over what people wanted to label her as. But she would not tolerate this grieving woman to blame her for her husband's death.
Everyone froze, unsure of what to do. The fire of Mrs. Cofran's words had disappeared and the remaining vault dwellers no longer looked like an angry mob, but a homeless group of people, lost and weak compared to even the smallest glimpse of danger she had seen in Concord.
Mrs. Cofran propped herself up in the dirt, sniffling and shooed her daughter away when Cindy tried to pull her up.
"I'm sorry Molly, but we both have been out of line this evening."
Annalee walked over, kneeled, and held out her hand.
"I was there when your husband was killed. We were cornered in a ruined building, while trying to save these men and women," she gestured to Preston and his company.
"I can assure you that the only thing he was thinking of when he died was of helping Jason and I, and returning home to you and your lovely daughter."
Molly wiped her bleeding nose, still casting her glance aside.
"I understand the pain of losing a husband," her voice started to break, "but we have to go on for them. Please, help me help these people. We've all gone through a terrible ordeal. Let's start over."
"I- I don't think I can," she sobbed.
Annalee reached for her hand and pulled her up, leading her to Cindy's arms.
"Let's get to work people."
And with that, she walked away into the garage and exited the armor. She went to Jason's side and helped Jun as he started the stitching process.
Preston watched as the crowd settled down and returned to their homes or their lawns, either patching up walls or roofs, or trying to plant and tend the mutated vegetables that had grown wild in their 200 year absence.
He looked at Annalee, where she leaned down over Jason, holding his hand as he writhed in pain. Her blue hair was dirty and hung in a low, untidy ponytail over her large shoulders.
"I've never met anyone like you," he said as he walked behind her and watched Jun's work.
She glanced over her shoulder and gave a questioning look before looking back at Jason.
'I don't know what you're talking about. I punched a grieving widow in the face. That's a horrible thing to do."
"Maybe so, but what you said afterwards.... Would you consider joining the Minutemen?"
This time she turned around for good.
"What do you mean? I thought you were the last one?
"Guess we have that in common, since you all are some of the last normal people who lived before the war. And I saw you fight. I saw a fire in you when you killed that Deathclaw and punched that woman. Maybe you'll deny it, but you can fight."
"I'm sorry to tell you this Preston," she stood up and brushed her knees off, "but a woman like me can't fight. And whatever 'fire' you saw, was the last flame I had. It froze over in the vault when I watched my whole world get destroyed in front of me."
She started walking away, "-both literally and figuratively."
He sighed, not wanting to push her anymore than he had to.
Jason groaned, his face wincing as Jun finished the last stitch.
Despite what Marcy thought, this place could work as a settlement. He watched the vault dwellers begin to farm and rebuild, and felt something inside that he hadn't felt in years. Hope. The dream for a Sanctuary for the people of the Commonwealth had begun to come true. And whether Annalee acknowledged it or not, it had all started because of her. Each settler took her words to Mrs. Cofran to heart. They had luckily opened their arms to his small broken group. Something good had finally returned to the Wastelands of Boston.