The Cure For Curie (Complete!)

To Hell With You

"You stupid girl." Elder Maxon spoke into the silence. It had been quiet for so long now, only the endless drone of the Prydwen had buzzed on. Haylen had been deep in her own thoughts, so deep, that she almost hadn't heard him speak. She turned in the pilot's chair to face him. He was fastened securely inside the back of their vertibird.

"That means so much coming from a man like you." She replied slyly, the smile growing on her face. "You're just being a sore loser."

"You honestly think that your little stunt is going to end it all? You think this is the end of the road for me, for the Brotherhood of Steel?"

"I didn't see anyone fight to save you. You saw them down there, they made their choice."

"That means nothing. I'll get out of this, and I'll be back for your General. Trust me on that."

Haylen checked her pocket watch, five more minutes. She ignored her former commander's jabs and started the engine. The General would be coming out soon. Once everything was primed and ready she set her focus on watching the door.

"I can't believe you betrayed your brothers." Elder Maxon shouted over the roar of the machine. Haylen turned to look at him when pain shot into the back of her head. He had freed himself and struck her with something heavy. She tried to keep her composure to stand.

Maxon punched her in the jaw as she grabbed for him. He moved out of the way of her falling form and on to the deck of the Prydwen. He was too quick, and Haylen was too dizzy. She watched through blurry eyes as Maxon threw open the door and rushed inside.

Haylen tried to get her bearings from the blow. She pulled herself into the pilot seat, her hands sliding on the leather now slick with blood. Shit. This was bad. She was in no condition to fly. Her eyes couldn't focus, her vision flickered as she fought to stay awake. She heard a shot ring out, her body went rigid as she sat up, alert. She feared Maxon had reached the General.

Haylen's chest began to tighten, it was suddenly becoming much harder to breathe. She looked down. There it was. A single hole in the front of her jacket, the edges still glowing red with radiation. She looked up to see Elder Maxon with a smug smile of victory across his face. With all the noise coming from the engines she had not heard him come back outside. Her body ringing from her gushing head wound, she had not felt the shot from the laser rifle. Shit.

This was the end of the line for her, she knew. She hoped that all the sacrifices she had made would not go to waste. She hoped that evil would not prevail, that Maxon's reign would not go unchecked. Her day might be over, but even now, there was still hope for tomorrow for those she loved.

"Good luck, my General, my friend." Haylen whispered under her breath.

"What was that, traitor?" Maxon asked as he aimed the rifle, ready to finish her off. Haylen would not let him win this battle, there was still just enough fight left. She smiled up at him, her hand reaching slowly, subtly.

"Ad Victoriam, brother." She said, making sure he heard her above the engines. She slammed her fist on the button, just as Maxon fired a second shot to the side of her head. His gun had been quick, but she had been quick enough.

The vertibird screamed with life as the emergency disconnect tore the copter from the Prydwen's deck. The blades stopped spinning as the whole machine began to plummet to the ground. Haylen's limp body bounced around inside the cockpit as it crashed in to the middle of the Diamond City market below. Alarms rang through the intercom as the stalls began to catch fire. Maxon had no other way off that ship. He had no other choice now but to win. He needed to find John and kill him. It was now his only chance.

                                -----
The Sole Survivor had made his way up into the Brotherhood of Steel's former living quarters. The halls lay desolate as he walked along. His boot steps echoing as they scraped the metal floor. He had his weapon out and his Stealth Boy on, knowing you could never be too careful. He didn't want to risk getting ambushed by a scientist who had decided to stay behind.

He crept slowly through the power armor workshop. The suits of men lay empty and still, each body missing one piece or another, making them unfit to wear into battle. He heard a radio off on the other side of the room. He thought it odd that any music would be playing since Piper had convinced Travis, the old Diamond City radio dj, to rig the tower with explosives.

The more he listened to the music, the worse it had sounded. The man singing the tune, couldn't hold one himself at all, let alone play the guitar. The song, which John gathered, was a love ballad about a raider getting his heartbroken. He heard the dj yell into the microphone about raider radio in a place called Nuka World. John made a mental note to investigate that further once things quieted down here. If raiders were gathering at a massive compound like an amusement park, it could prove troublesome. John sighed internally, the thought of the constant fighting had begun to weigh on his heart.

Finally the stairs to the upper levels were finally in front of him. He had to be quick, his Stealth Boy was running out of juice. He reached the top floor just as he was flickering back in to visibility. It was just as well, he no longer needed it. Even if there was someone else on the ship, they would never be able to spot him on the catwalk.

He set the first of the explosives into position. He duct taped the bomb to the support beam and clicked the button to prime it. A single beep answered that it was ready to go. John made his way down the walk, towards the middle, setting up the second bomb in the same fashion.

The third and final bomb was a little different. He taped it to the beam and opened the key pad on the front. He punched in the code linking all three explosives to the same frequency. All three beeped at the same interval, echoing throughout the hall. He then punched in the final code, setting the timer for ten minutes.

Ten minutes was now the time it would take to create a better future. Ten more minutes and this would all be over. Ten more minutes and he could reunite with his love and his son, to move foward stronger than ever. Ten more minutes he whispered to himself as he rushed to make his way back to Haylen to leave this place.

He climbed down the ladder to the flight deck as his last Stealth Boy powered off. That's when he saw him, blocking his only exit. He checked the watch on his PipBoy, five more minutes.

"I knew if I waited long enough, you scuttle out of some corner on this ship." Elder Maxon stood in front of the door, his gun pointed at John's chest.

"It's already over, Maxon. You're too late."

"No. I have you, John. The Minutemen will have no choice but to hear my demands. I will get this ship back."

"You just don't get do you?" John replied as he checked the time again, four minutes and thirty seconds. "You will never have control of the Prydwen again. I'd bet my life on that."

"Well the thing about betting is, the house always wins. I cut off your escape. Haylen has been taken care of along with the vertibird you stole."

John had to check his chest for fear he had been shot. The news sunk into his stomach threatening to make him sick. The room began to spin as his own mortality smacked him in the face. Three minutes and thirty seconds.

"How...how could you? You moron! That is the only way off this ship."

"I know, John. That was the point. Without you're escape, you lose."

"We both lose." John whispered. Two minutes.

John slipped his backpack down off his shoulder, swinging it wildly toward Maxon. He would not die here, with him. Maxon fired a cluster of shots, but he seemed rusty, his accuracy way off. The Sole Survivor threw his heavy pack, catching the gun, pulling it from the man's grip.

He turned quickly, sliding down the ladder, he needed to try to hide. He would do everything he could to survive this. He checked his PipBoy again, fifteen seconds. He looked around the sparse storeroom for anything that would help him.

Ten seconds. He saw a short distance, something that might help. Five seconds. He had to try. It would work, needed to work. Four seconds. Three seconds. Two seconds. Damn this day.