2-1-6.

There was nothing else it could be, Sara mused, as she pressed each button in turn. She found her hands were shaking, which surprised her. She didn't think she was afraid to die-what was there to live for? The Capital Wasteland was greedy. It took everything and left nothing. Her father was dead. Her former best friend had banished her permanently from the only home she'd ever known. She'd killed people, and even though all the murders had been in self-defense, the blood of those victims still stung in her throat.

With the correct sequence of numbers entered, the purifier began to whir into life. The numbers on the pad began to swim in front of her eyes; blurring and clearing with dizzying rapidity. She turned to face the glass window and peered out into the rotunda.

She immediately met Dogmeat's eyes and saw the confusion in them. A wave of sadness swept over her. She was wrong when she thought there was nothing left to live for: Dogmeat genuinely loved her. A part of this was for him. When she was gone he could run freely to the Jefferson Memorial and drink all the clean water he wanted.

"It's okay," she said to him, even though she knew he couldn't hear it through the thick pane of glass. "It's okay."

Sara glanced over at Sentinel Lyons and saw the woman place her hand on the glass before she, Sara, suddenly found herself on the floor. She was vaguely aware of some pain in her knees: they must have collided with the floor as she fell. She rolled as a wave of nausea overtook her and caught sight of the face of Jefferson through the window.

A smile spread up across her dry lips. Hope. There was hope.

White, white, white, white.

A flash of her father, her mother, Amata; all just out of reach.

"Shit, she's alive!"

"She'll be…what about Lyons…?

A signature "Aroo"

A pretty, unfamiliar face…brown strands of hair….the clink of metal

"It's been over a week! You assured me they would wake-"

"I assure you, Elder, they will."

"Must this dog be in here?"

The ceiling.

The ceiling? Sara blinked furiously at the grayish, green material above her. Where was she?

She gingerly placed her hands by her sides. Her fingers met cold metallic. She jerked her fingers away in surprise at the pain of the coldness. Her vision swam again.

A warm pair of large hands slid underneath her shoulder blades and gently pushed her into a seated position. She immediately recognized the feel of the intensely calloused hands on her skin.

"Fawkes?" she mumbled.

"Yes, my friend," the Super Mutant rumbled. The sound of his voice caused happiness to swell inside of her like a balloon. Fawkes hadn't been with them in the Rotunda-this is meant she was somehow back in the Citadel. "I am glad to finally see you are awake."

"As am I," a kind voice sounded to her left. Sara looked over at the smiling face of Elder Lyons.

"Wha' happened?" Sara slurred. It was difficult to get the words out: her tongue felt thick and heavy with fatigue. She hoped Fawkes wouldn't withdraw his grip on her, fearing she might slump back over if he did so.

"You started the purifier over at the Jefferson Memorial. That was two weeks ago."

"Where's….Sentinel Lyons?"

"You were both safely retrieved after the blast of radiation knocked you both unconscious. The doctor assures me she will wake too. Seeing you conscious gives me renewed hope for her recovery."

"Thas' good." She smiled up at Fawkes sleepily. "When I went in…I figured that was it for me."

"I must ask you what occurred at Raven Rock," Elder Lyons urged. Sara searched the fuzzy confines of her mind in search of an answer.

"Blew it up," she finally concluded. She again noted how grateful she was that Fawes was holding her up. She felt drunk, as drunk as she'd been that one night after James died and she'd found herself in Megaton in the easy, sultry company of Nova…

"Allow me to be clearer. I meant to ask what happened when you spoke to President Eden."

"Oh!" The loudness of her own voice startled her. Images from two weeks ago were pouring into her awareness faster than she could process them. "He gave me a vial…a vial of….uh…F….shit….F….FEV!" She heard Fawkes groan at the very mention of the disease.

"Eden told me to put it in the purifier when we activated it," Sara pressed on. "But I didn't. I have it…here….where's my stuff?"

Elder Lyons made a motion to a paladin behind him who crossed the room, pulled a worn traveling bag from the depths of a locker and handed it to the young woman. She dug through it with clumsy fingers, grazing Stimpacks, a pack of shotgun shells, and the edge of an old photograph before finding the smooth exterior of the vial.

"Here," she said as she pulled it out. "Take it. You know how to get rid of it." Elder Lyons held out an open hand, and she pressed the vial firmly into it.

"Thank you," he said. "The Brotherhood will see that this is properly disposed of."

Sara gingerly hoisted herself up into a steadier seated position. Fawkes, sensing her stubbornness surfacing again, slowly let go. He was relieved to see the almost immediate reappearance of the trait that so thoroughly caused him to clash heads with Sara. It meant she had remained completely herself, despite the nearly lethal blast of radiation and two week coma.

"Considering all that has happened, "Elder Lyons continued, "I think it only fair that we bypass the usual rites of initiation and declare you a member of the Brotherhood of Steel."

"Really?" Sara stared at the Elder in disbelief. "I mean…thank you, but I haven't done much-"

"Haven't done much?" Lyons repeated incredulously.

"I mean…yes, I've helped you all, but I did most of it for my…" The words caught in her throat as it constricted with renewed grief. "Dad."

"And I hope that you will continue to excel in the service of the Brotherhood in memory of your exceptional father. Now, unless there is anything else you require, I will leave you to your thoughts,"

"Where's my dog?" Sara asked. Lyons' mouth got noticeably thinner.

"He is probably poking around in the Armory." The irritation in the Elder's voice was evident, even to Fawkes whose grasp of social cues was less than stellar at best. "You may go down and collect him, but Sawbones has made it very clear you are not to overexert yourself."

"Right…thank you," Sara replied, a hint of a smile twisting at the corners of her lips. Of course Dogmeat was off getting himself involved in matters he shouldn't as on par with his propensity to fall into broken sections of pavement throughout the Wasteland or to bound fearlessly toward a Talon Company Merc who wielded a heavy incinerator while Sara ran screaming behind him, waving a Stimpack at the ready.

Elder Lyons nodded kindly at her and turned to face his unconscious daughter. He reached out and carefully tucked a strand of blonde hair that had worked free of Sentinel Lyons' signature bun behind her ear before sighing sadly and moving out into the exterior hallway.

The very sight made Sara want to burst into tears. Sentinel Lyons would wake to the sight of her caring father who obviously valued her immeasurably. James was fucking dead. He would never again be right around the corner when she woke, able to make her laugh away a vivid nightmare or protect her from the harsh words of others. No, instead she'd roused to the company of a strangely human, yet still ultimately terrifying looking, Super Mutant and an old man who would have far preferred the other young woman in the room to wake first.

"Come on, Fawkes. Let's go find the furry dumbass."

"What?" he drawled. Sara sighed in exasperation.

"Dogmeat. The only furry dumbass we know." She lowered her voice and muttered to herself "Unless you've become furry. Then I would know two."

She swung her legs over the side of the cold gurney and slid down to the floor. She landed harder than she'd meant to on her right ankle and wobbled dangerously. Fawkes reached over and grabbed her by the bicep.

"I'm fine!" Sara insisted, swatting his saucepan sized hand away. "Just a little bit unsteady."

"Perhaps I should hold onto you for a while. There are many stairs throughout the Citadel, my friend."

"Fine," Sara conceded. "I'll hold your hand." She slid her hand into his and he gripped most of her forearm. "You realize how ridiculous this looks, don't you?" Fawkes cracked a smile.

"We live in a ridiculous world," he replied.