The shrill buzzing cut into her dream, shattering it and bringing in the new day. Cait opened her eyes wearily, gazing at the wakemaster alarm clock Alexander had found, and subsequently repaired, while on one of their many runs. Honestly, waking up in the morning wasn't something she relished; still, a blaring alarm was better than the cold bucket of water or kick that Tommy would use to get her up before a match back in her pit fighting days.
Aside from the lack of physical suffering, which was by itself a nice change of pace, the comforting prescience of the warm body next to her was absolutely heavenly. It's not that Cait had never rutted before, she wasn't unattractive and chems could work wonders on anyone's faculties, she just wasn't used to her partners sticking around afterward. She'd wake up alone, battered, the cold concrete and warm bottle her only friends. But Alexander was different, he was lying beside her in the bed, eyes closed, heavily scarred features at peace, one strong arm was coiled around her waist, ensuring he didn't lose her in the night if it came to trouble. While she didn't even remotely need his protection, she was far harder than he'd ever dream, it felt nice to have a man who wanted to offer it.
So she snuggled into his embrace, driving her freckled body against his bare chest closing her eyes and breathing in his scent, before she finally slapped him gently, "Hey, lover, can you get that?" Honestly, what that man could sleep through stunned her, a side-effect of military service no doubt.
Alexander Blackwood, general of the Minutemen, arguably the most powerful force in the Commonwealth, opened his eyes blurrily. Blinking rapidly, the general reached out for the end table, trying desperately to find the eyeglasses he needed to see. Cait had heard that, back in the pre-war world, it was possible to get surgery done on your eyes to fix them, thus rendering glasses unnecessary. Whether that was true likely only the Institute would have known and now with their destruction that technology, like so much else, would be lost. Still, it didn't seem to bother her man, who bore glasses as stoically as he did everything else in the Commonwealth.
Finally finding them and donning his spectacles Alexander turned his attention towards the wakemaster, effectively silencing the blaring with a decisive strike from his fist. Throwing aside the blankets and leaping to his feet, the general went to the window, drawing his blinds to look outward at Sanctuary Hills. The sun was rising over the Minutemen's capital city, already alive with the hustle and bustle of activity.
Cait still struggled to believe it. When Alexander had first brought her back to the city it had been little more than a few crude shacks and some half-ruined pre-war buildings. Now it was a hub of infrastructure, the old houses had been repaired while new ones were placed in a somewhat orderly fashion. The river was lined with water purifiers, the ground tilled and filled with crops and animals. A church, with a bell tower stood tall, allowing a sniper perched atop near unprecedented view of the entire area. Cait wasn't one for prayers but didn't grumble too much about the wasted space, after all, MacCready seemed to enjoy the tower's perch and she enjoyed having a sniper of his caliber watching over them.
The crude walls that had initially surrounded Sanctuary Hills had been pushed back and replaced with new ones, allowing further construction. Beyond the bridge and "Old Sanctuary," an entirely new subdivision had arisen around the nearby Red Rocket, "New Sanctuary." It was amazing what a few people could accomplish given time, energy and duct tape.
Cait leaned backward, cracking her back comfortingly with a powerful yawn. Moving to the salvaged dresser which contained most of the couple's civilian clothing, Cait looked over the various photos Alexander had carefully placed atop it. Some were black and white, others color, one of his grandfather, another of Nora, his fallen wife who Cait knew better than to bring up without permission. That wound was still raw to the man she loved, despite everything that had happen since Kellogg. Beside that photo was the happy couple, then a picture of infant Shaun. However, the photos of Alexander's past life were accompanied by some new ones, taken with an ancient, and badly battered, camera that somehow still worked. There was one of her, another of the two of them sitting on the porch, one of Codsworth and Alexander…and one of him.
Cait loved Alexander, more than she'd ever loved anyone in her entire life, there was never any doubt and nothing that ever happened would change that, nothing. Yet she hadn't signed on for this. When her man had come back from the attack on the Institute he'd come back with this…thing… His son, Shaun, except not really. She knew that Father, head of the Institute, had been her man's real son and this boy was nothing more than a synth. It disturbed her, this thing. Her ideals regarding kids not withstanding, and certainly an unwillingness to have her own after what her parents had put her through, even if she wanted a whole brood of them, this mockery of life wasn't right, not by a long shot.
Coffee and breakfast notwithstanding, she wasn't sure if she could play house with Alexander like he wanted, certainly not with this thing, life wasn't going to be like they were and he needed to accept that.
They'd fought over it, a real fight, an explosive blowup screaming match that didn't end well. Her fiery Irish temper had really shown itself and he'd maintained his determination as he always did, refusing to back down. The issue had never been resolved and the woman had simply determined to pretend "Shaun" didn't exist, a task that proved difficult considering the boy lived with them.
For his part, the synth didn't bother her much, preferring to spend time with Alexander, or Nick or anyone but her, which suited her just fine.
Pulling on a ratty old shirt and pants, seeing as the day wasn't going to get at all exciting, Cait walked out the bedroom past the racks of comic books, old pre-war posters and paintings. Her partner was a tireless decorator yet another thing about him she didn't really understand but didn't bother her.
As always, her first sight was the simple blue door across the hallway, locked and sealed. She'd never once seen the contents of that room and when she'd asked about it Alexander hadn't responded exactly, making some mumbling about "leaving the past alone," it was bullshit but she cared about him and so she dropped it. Still, curiosity always gnawed away at her, refusing to let go.
Shrugging her shoulders the pit fighter turned, tripping over the cat as she moved. Only years of combat experience kept her from hitting the floor as she struggled to maintain her balance, "Smokey! Get the hell away from me!" She hissed at the blasted thing, yet another unwanted life form her man had brought into her life. "Get your stupid cat!" She yelled back towards the bedroom stepping around the grey feline lying on the floor without care.
In a perfect world she'd have skinned and eaten the thing, but alas, the world wasn't perfect and sometimes sacrifices had to be made for loved ones. Cait knew he'd made more than enough for her. Still, it didn't mean she had to like his stupid cat, or allow him to bring in more. When he'd mentioned something about capturing more cats she'd put her foot down, "Smokey is more than enough pain in my arse," she'd insisted and he'd left the matter alone.
With the cat behind her and out of her mind she moved through the kitchen out into the driveway where the rusted old remains of Alexander's pre-war car sat, unmoving, as it always did. Nostalgia was a hell of a drug. Moving past the car she found the icebox opening it up for her choice of breakfast. It had been a real pain to move the box to the House of Tomorrow but despite all that difficulty it had been worth it, nothing like keeping the meat fresh and drinks cold.
Reaching inward, the woman withdrew a bottle of fresh Brahmin milk, a lemon, some mole rat meat and a mutifruit, something she figured constituted a healthy breakfast. A few bottles of beer and bourbon occupied the bottom of the ice filled container no longer tempting. Once upon a time that would have been her breakfast but now it held no power over her, and she had Alexander to thank for that. She still drank occasionally, but on her terms, not because she had to. He'd offered to get rid of ever drop of liquor in the house when she went sober, a gesture she found utterly sweet, however, considering what he had gone through to get that far in life, the man deserved some escape.
Closing the hatch for the ice box, Cait returned to the kitchen, smelling the coffee pot already boiling. Smokey was sitting on the table purring happily as his master stroked him.
Letting the cat on the table…hell, if I'd know that would be happening I'd have broken up with the dumbass.
Still, he looked so happy, so contented, she did her best not to smile. It proved difficult, even with that thing sitting next to him. Father and "son" both eagerly ate bowls full of Sugar Bombs and milk, for all his hard exterior Alexander had plenty of bizarre soft spots and yet somehow that made her love him more. Her entire past had been projecting a rough appearance, a hard edge and sometimes she wished she had the confidence to sit at the table and eat children's breakfast cereal with a cat knowing full well you were man enough to take anyone who felt otherwise.
"Dad! Dad, dad, dad!" Shaun exclaimed excitedly, practically bouncing up and down in his chair, speaking between mouthfuls of cereal, spilling milk on the table as he did. Alexander, for his part, seemed unbothered by another stain on the salvaged dining room piece. "Guess what I'm doing today?" The little man was beaming with pride as Cait took her seat, trying not to look at him.
"Don't leave me hanging, Shaun, you know I stink at guessing games," Alexander laughed, a sound that, not matter the cause, warmed Cait's heart, "Just tell me, what are you doing today?"
The boy's eyes went wide, clapping his hands together with the pure exuberance only a child could produce and, for a moment, Cait almost believed Shaun was actually really a flesh and blood kid before reason reinserted itself. Taking a bite out of her mutifruit, Cait washed the sticky-sweet taste away with a mouthful of milk, waiting for the synth's exciting announcement. "Are you ready for this, dad?" The kid shoveled another spoonful of Sugar Bombs into his mouth before exclaiming, "I'm going to help Sturges check up on the Beta Wave Emitter, because he asked me!" The kid puffed out his chest with pride, holding his head a little higher, "He saw me tinkering with that hot plate you got me and asked if I wanted to learn more about circuits and stuff and he called me a natural!"
"Well son," Alexander smiled, patting Shaun on the back with a nod of fatherly approval, "Struges is right! I've gotten plenty of use out of the modifications you've made and Sturges has plenty of eye for mechanical talent." He leaned back in his chair as he patted down his housecoat for a packet of cigarettes. A post-breakfast smoke break with coffee was habit. "Besides we don't want that emitter going out until I'm fully confident in the training we've done for the Yao-guai, don't want to get mauled now!"
Cait rolled her eyes. It had been, oddly enough, Strong's idea. After seeing the damage a few angry Yao-Guai could wreak on a band of enemies he suggested trying to capture one. With a cage cleverly rigged up by Sturges and Old Longfellow, whose hunting expertise was needed, and some old Institute files the Railroad had acquired, provided by Deacon, the cage had been set up and the initial Beta Wave Emitter built. With two Yao-Guai captured Alexander had let Shaun name the first. The boy decided that "Cuddles" was an appropriate name for the massive beast. Unfortunately, her lover wasn't any better choosing to name his "Yogi", after some stupid pre-war cartoon. Honestly that was typical him, sometimes it was collecting comic books, other times it was dressing up as the Silver Shroud or other nonsense, yet she couldn't help but love him despite his quirks of character.
Cuddles and Yogi still weren't trained yet and, as such, needed the emitter to keep them relatively docile, Sturges letting Shaun look at it was a huge display of trust.
"Well I've got nothing quite as exciting as all that lined up today," Alexander admitted, "I'll be tending the crops, checking on the animals, and patrolling the parameter." Finding the desired packet, Alexander withdrew a cigarette, stuck it in his mouth and lit it. "That and waiting to hear anything from Preston on the radio," he blew a cloud of smoke, away from both son and lover.
"Where is he anyway?" Cait asked her man, looking away out the window towards the people milling about in the street, Mama Murphy gazing vaguely off into space and being politely ignored, a settler she didn't recognize moving past the woman to work on tending the lemon trees Alexander had brought back after his time at Covenant, which, as far as Cait knew, wasn't at all pleasant.
"Colonel Garvey?" He asked casually, as if calling him Preston somehow demeaned one of the Minutemen's highest ranking officers, "He's taken most of our spare forces over to Quincy. With the Gunner commanders all dead we figured it was a good opportunity to take the city back and reestablish Minutemen control. It'd be a huge morale victory for the future Unified Commonwealth." He scratched his head sheepishly, "So we're a little short staffed here, most of our soldiers are with him holding the town until we can shore the place up. Area is likely to be crawling with the tattered remains of Gunner and raider gangs seeing as how we don't have as ironclad a control of the place that far south. We've spent the last few months smashing every single band of raiders we could find so any survivors are bound to be pissed."
"You think Garvey and his team can handle it without you?" Cait asked indignantly standing up from the table to fetch the pot of coffee bubbling gently on the hot plate. "I vaguely remember him being unable to wipe himself without your help." Alexander couldn't help but chuckle while Shaun looked on perplexed.
"Okay, well I did go out and find plenty of settlements needing help, that's for sure." He shook his head, "But Preston has done a fantastic job as my right-hand man and I couldn't rebuild America without him."
"I can't wait to see it," Shaun's eyes were wide with anticipation practically visualizing the new nation his father would build. Cait, for her part, remained silent.
"Well," Alexander said at length, putting out his cigarette, "Time for us to get to work, America isn't going to rebuild herself."
"That may be true," Cait pointed out, "But drink your damn coffee first."
Alexander agreed.
Cait bent low, gathering eggs from the rad chickens while trying to keep her man in her field of vision. Alexander, with Shaun in tow, went through the patch of corn, cigarette hanging limply from the corner of his mouth, testing each plant to see if there was any sign of rot or damage. He took the same methodical approach to farming as he did to anything else, yet with far more joy than he did most things. Alexander loved nature, loved the things that grew and survived despite the wasteland's constant interference.
The sun was beating down heavily and her ratty old ball cap did wonders for protection for the sun, yet it could do nothing for the child. Shaun was, for lack of a better word, a freak, an abomination, a twisted experiment of science gone wrong but Alexander was so caught up in a past that was gone now, keeping that synth around was…uncomfortable. She couldn't exactly do anything about it, she loved him and he'd earned her silence on this matter long ago. Still, she wasn't going to be anyone's mom that was certain.
Shaun was laughing at something his father had said, while the general was pointing out what appeared to be a cob of corn on the stalk. Cait watched him, intently, actually taking the time to observe her man interact with his son. For just a moment, one solitary moment, she actually saw Alexander for the father he was, the idea of a band of mop-haired, red-headed brats actually almost seemed worth it. But then reality returned, memories of her parents selling her to raiders for a few caps, her upbringing, Alexander's murderer wife and maniacal son, all the dangerous melting pot of reality that ensured there was no chance she was comfortable now, or ever, being a mother.
Shaking her head, Cait left, basket of eggs in hand, for the ice box. After the day she'd had a nice cold glass of burbon and a seat on her couch would be just fine. Alas, fate had other ideas.
Sturges came running towards Alexander, waving both gloved hands above his head frantically, "General! It's Colonel Garvey! He needs you on the radio, pronto!" Alexander didn't even hesitate, turning his back on the crops and dashing towards the radio room with all the speed his long legs could muster, Shaun pattering around behind him. Cait, knowing the temperament of her man, put the basket of eggs down and headed for the shack housing the radio equipment.
Alexander and Sturges were huddled over the radio, receiver in hand, tensely glancing towards the wall. The crackling of speakers was interrupted by explosions, gunfire, laser blasts and screaming. "Some big group of raiders!" Preston was yelling over the receiver, "We've fired off flares and we're still boxed in, I've got over half my squad down, I don't know who's leading this pack but they're doing everything in their power to take Quincy. They're fighting suicidal!"
"They've got nothing left to lose Preston," Alexander stated firmly, "These bottom-feeders know their days of terror and rule are coming to an end. The Unified Commonwealth has no place for them so they're working on carving out a kingdom, its make or break."
"Right now general we're the ones going to break!" Garvey roared, voice louder than the various explosions around him, "We need backup! And we need it now!"
"Hold tight Colonel Garvey," Alexander said confidently over the transceiver jaw set, "I'm on my way." Handing the equipment to Sturges, the general ordered, "Sturges, get Strong, Curie and MacCready, we're rolling out in ten, tell them it's going to be hot."
The mechanic snapped a sharp salute, "Aye-aye sir," he was already gone before Cait notice. Alexander was stomping across the street towards their home, heading past the building into the garage he'd built in the rear to hold his equipment. Dashing past her man's exercise equipment towards the shed, Cait reached it long before Shaun, the synth boy still puttering about behind her.
"Are you going to want me?" She asked as Alexander began disrobing, removing his Minutemen General uniform from the leading mannequin. He was pulling on his boots when she decided to continue, "I'm one of the best fighters you've got." It was a simple statement, one backed by months of fact and experience, experience he'd seen, "Certainly far better than Curie!" There was a trace of indignation in the redhead's voice, Curie…that stuck up French want-to-be. She was pretty though, that worried Cait more than she cared to admit. She'd never had a lover she'd felt jealous about before, a change of pace she didn't find refreshing but it was what it was….If that French tart put her hands on him she better be holding a Stimpak or Cait was breaking it off…
"Curie's going for the wounded," the general explained, tightening his belt before reaching for his armored chest piece, "Judging by the sound of Preston's SOS there's going to be plenty." As he begun to snap the latches of his armor in place he looked her dead in the face, "Baby, I need you to stay here."
"Why the hell would I do that?" She didn't yell, she wanted to, but she didn't. However, the words felt just as threatening, almost more so because of the low tone.
"Listen to me," with the chest piece in place then came the overcoat, gloves and finally tricorn hat, "There's a real chance this is a false attack and the raiders might be making a play for Sanctuary Hills. We're low on manpower as it is, so I need you and Nick here," He slid the Shem Drowe sword into its place on his belt with a subtle grace suggesting a casual mastery of swordsmanship. Taking his Remington 1858 revolver off one of the weapon racks and loading it, Alexander placed it on his belt across from the sword, before heading for a security baton. "You are one of my best fighters and I need you to make up for our limited manpower." He put his hand on her shoulder, kissing her gently, "I need someone to protect the homestead, my son and our livelihood."
Cait pondered a moment and felt her anger fade away, "Fine, I'll stay behind." She looked her dead in the face before kissing him roughly, "I love you."
"I love you too," he responded without hesitation before snapping his baton to the belt, "Now help me find some grenades."
And so she watched from the bridge, Minutemen flags flapping overhead in the breeze, some proudly announcing to the world who owned Sanctuary Hills and others daring anyone to try and take it away. Her lover hustled away with the synth, Super Mutatant and sniper, heading off to face uncertain odds while she stood alone, powerless to do anything about it. She held her shotgun in hand, standing on the guard tower gazing out past New Sanctuary in an attempt to see him one last time. The wind tickled her face, but nothing could be done about the grumbling, rumbling nervousness that popped up in her stomach.
"Don't worry, Cait," the small voice told her suddenly, "He'll be back safely, he always is." She hadn't expected the little guy, or anyone for that matter, to successfully sneak up on her and she nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard him blurt out.
Turning around rapidly, the pit fighter saw the synth Shaun standing there, looking up at her with his wide brown eyes, "My dad's the best fighter in the Commonwealth, he'll be back, don't worry." There was a steadfast devotion to his words, an unshakable faith in his tone, nothing could convince him otherwise.
"I guess so," She wished she had the conviction of the synth child, that she was certain he'd return with a smile on his face and some new oddity jingling in his backpack. She wished that, but she was hardened, cynical, years of the Wasteland did that to a person, plus slavery, abuse and hard drinking. She couldn't believe like that thing did.
Still, she wouldn't show weakness, not in front of Shaun, or any kid for that matter. "Listen, I've got shite to do so, best of luck with your waiting," she turned away from him, heading back towards the House of Tomorrow for a drink. Hopefully burbon and the act of cleaning her shotgun would provide some sort of calming feeling, but she doubted it.
"My dad really likes you." Shaun, once again, interrupted her actions with his simple observation. The words stopped her in her tracks, Cait finding herself drawn in by the simple statement, "I mean really likes you, he tries not to show it to me too much because he knows that I miss my mom."
"Do you?" Cait asked him, keeping her tone as neutral as she could manage.
"Yeah," the kid admitted sheepishly glancing down at the shattered concrete beneath his feet that had once been a main road, "Every day, even though I don't really remember her, but Cait," he looked up at her with his wide brown eyes, "No matter how much I miss her she won't come back, she's dead." The bluntness of his words hit her center mass like a super sledge. "My dad has enough problems, enough hard things he has to do, it's nice that he has someone like you to take care of him." With his piece said and done Shaun smiled up at her and walked off towards the workshop, no doubt intending to whip up some sort weapon modification for Alexander when he got back.
Cait, for her part stood motionless, unsure of what to say or feel in response to the kid's comments, he'd caught her completely off guard. She, almost robotically, found herself moving towards the church Alexander had erected, not out of any religious sense, but because she knew it'd be quiet. She could sit down on one of the benches inside and think, figure out what she wanted out of her relationship with Alexander…and with the synth he called his son; the unexpected encounter with Shaun having left her spinning.
To her surprise she found the building occupied. Nick Valentine, synth detective, sat on one of the benches, yellow eyes gazing outward at nothing, unblinkingly. His fedora was off and resting on the bench beside him, hands folded on his lap, not quite in prayer. The synth was so quiet there was no avoiding alerting him, the click of the door, the pattering of her feet more than enough. "Looking for me?" He asked without looking forward.
"For you?" Cait asked with a good-natured snort, "Nah, I just wanted a good place to stop and think some things over, and I figured no one would be here." She glanced around the plank walls and potted plants without further comment, as if the absence of anyone else proved her point. "Why are you here, Nick?" She nodded towards his robotic hand and exposed circuitry, "I'm pretty sure they don't let toasters into heaven." It was mostly intended as a jest but came out harsher than she intended, her little joke lacking the friendly prod she'd wanted.
Nick Valentine, ever the good natured man, simply laughed it off, "I'd agree with you, Cait really." He looked towards the pulpit, "But I'm wondering if the big guy can fault this toaster for trying," he chuckled, "Maybe I can slip in on your boyfriend's back? He's got faith enough for two I reckon."
"Not as much as his son," Cait admitted, sitting down beside the detective quietly, "Or at least, that thing he brought home and calls his son." Conflicting emotions ran rampant along her form shaking her convictions. "He's so convinced his 'dad' is coming home, it's rubbing off on me, and I don't believe in anything." She looked at Nick dead in his synthetic eye, "What my father did when I was his age…" She trailed off, not wanting to give Nick the gory details, "If I'm not with Alexander I don't know what's happening, I can't protect my man and I don't know if he's coming home or not, I don't have robot Shaun's optimism."
"He's a good kid," Nick said happily, tapping his metallic fingers against the bench beneath him echoing the sound throughout the chamber.
"But he's not human."
Nick pointed to himself, "Neither am I, and you like me well enough."
"But you aren't pretending…"
"Neither is he." That comment struck her, the force of the detective's words clear, "Look. He doesn't know he's not the original Shaun, so what does it matter?" He glanced over at Cait, "You know what he told me the other day?" Nick leaned back in his bench and chuckled warmly, "He told me when he grew up he wanted to be a detective, just like me." Nick smiled, "That was the nicest thing I've ever heard, you know that? Free of judgment, free of fear, just admiration. It was a nice change of pace and it warmed my heart." The detective tapped his metallic hand over the plastic exoskeleton in the approximate location of where a heart might be, though Cait admittedly had no idea whether Nick Valentine actually had one.
"I just…I just…"
"It's more than that isn't it?" Nick looked at her, his perceptive tone of voice not lost on the pit fighter.
"Damn it Nick! Where'd you get so damn inquisitive?" She snapped, angry at being probed by the other.
"I'm a detective, Cait. That's what I do." He looked at her and spoke, in a tone that wasn't quiet aggressive but certainly wasn't playing, "Why don't you tell me exactly what the problem is…because I don't think you actually care two wits about this synth issue, you've just convinced yourself it matters because the truth is more frightening."
"Nickie…" Cait fully intended to give the detective a piece of her mind, to rip him a new one for his comments and tell him to bugger off, but what came out wasn't what she planned to say. "I can't be a mom! I don't have any clue! I didn't sign up for this! I'll ruin this kid's little synthetic life!" She halted her words, suddenly very embarrassed by her outburst in front of Nick.
The synth detective, to his credit, didn't say anything at first, his expression unrevealing regarding his opinions. Finally he stated, "That was brave of you to say aloud."
"I'm a fighter Nick," she admitted with a slight tinge of pride at her capability to wreak carnage, "That's all I'm good at. I know shite about this whole motherhood thing, I want to stay as far away from it as I can, but, as you artfully mentioned, my boyfriend has got a kid that's important to him and I don't know what to do here."
Nick got up from the bench, taking his fedora and placing it on his head, "Come with me," he extended a skin covered hand which, for lack of a better idea, Cait took. The detective hauled her to her feet and then the pair left the church, crossing the street to House of Tomorrow. Nick produced a key and unlocked the front door. "Alexander gave me one of his spares," the detective explained. Cait knew there were three keys to the place, obviously the general had one and she had one but she'd never realized that Nick Valentine, private gumshoe from Diamond City was the owner of the third. The level of trust Alexander held for the synthetic detective was far greater than even she realized.
Without further comment, the duo stepped inside the home to find Smokey lying lazily on the nearest sofa. Cait hissed at the thing but Nick bent down and scratched the cat behind the ears. As if summoned by the attention directed elsewhere, Dogmeat padded into the house through the doggy door, barking happily at the sight of Nick. "Alright you big lug," Valentine chuckled, "I can't resist you, come here!" Dogmeat happily bounded over, tongue hanging limply from his mouth in an exaggerated smile. The synth detective bent low and rubbed the dog's back and belly for a few moments, scratching the dog beneath the neck, behind the ears and, in general, every place that Dogmeat liked. Once he was thoroughly satisfied, the canine wandered away no doubt intending to amuse himself by chasing the rad chickens about.
"Animals," Nick chuckled, "Gotta love them." Cait didn't bother dignifying that comment with a remark. With both pets contented Nick led the pit fighter through the living room and kitchen towards the hallway, taking her to the locked door she'd never opened.
"I don't go in there Nick," Cait stated firmly, "Alexander made it pretty damn clear that I don't go in there." She crossed her freckled arms in a determined stance, jaw set, "I may be a lot of things, but I don't go back on the one man in the whole damn Commonwealth who decided I was worth the trouble of loving. I don't know what he wants to keep secret in there, and I don't care, I'm not looking."
"Your loyalty is admirable," Nick told her honestly, putting his key in the lock and turning it, "However, I think a peak in here will really help you come to grips with a few things." Pushing the door open the synthetic detective beckoned her to look inside. Against her own better judgment, Cait looked.
If she thought about it honestly she had no idea what her man would want to keep hidden in the room, she assumed trophies, bodies, maybe something belonging to his dead wife, but nothing that crossed her wildest dreams prepared her for what she saw inside.
The room was a bedroom intended for an infant, everything carefully preserved and untouched. A blue crib with red rocket mobile took up much of the space, with a change table, overstuffed chair and nightstand also making themselves known. Every object within held an aura of reverence, as if her man didn't even step foot in the room, rather simply look. There was one thing however that didn't quiet match this aura. A newly constructed wooden box sat in the corner, the lid nearly bursting from the overstuffed nature of its contents.
"If you open that box there," Nick stated, gesturing towards the crate that held her interest, "You'll find nothing but toys. Teddy bears, toy trucks, rockets, stuffed Jangles anything a kid might want." The synth looked towards the crib, gazing at it, lost in thought, "He was obsessed at the beginning when he came to me, I swear to you I didn't see a single Teddy bear that man didn't pick up and put in his backpack for the first few months. It was a compulsion for him, I'd assume some way of making it up to his missing son." Nick shook his head, "I think we both knew things could never be as they had been, and I don't think Alexander doubted that, but he held on to his hope. He wanted everything to be perfect for his son, for his little boy. I heard him talk about Shaun all the time, how he'd make it up to him, play catch and all that." Nick's eyes narrowed on the toy chest, "I guess he figured gathering up all these bears for Shaun was the best he could do during the dark period when neither of us had a clue about his son's whereabouts."
Cait didn't know what to say, she could see him, in her mind's eyes, huddled over the empty crib whispering nothings to a son he'd lost. "And after he got into the Institute?" The words came out in a whisper, their owner knowing what had happened inside those halls and understanding what it meant for he she held dear.
"After he discovered the truth? That Father was Shaun?" Nick sighed, "He kept up the same habit with the toys, though whether it was out of guilt, or delusion I couldn't tell you. Only God knows I suppose," he shook his head, blinking his yellow eyes sadly. "He slept in this room once, in a sleeping bag on the floor, the night he decided he'd have to kill his own son. I've never seen a man so broken…"
"Why didn't he show me this?" Cait asked, almost indignant, "Why hide it? I want to help him! I want to carry him like he carried me."
"I'm guessing he didn't want to pressure you into something you weren't ready for." Nick turned and left the child's room, beckoning for Cait to do the same, "He knew how you grew up, he knew your worries and your fears, particularly about motherhood and whatnot. This was his battle; I guess he'd figured you'd make your own decision about Shaun one way or another on your own."
"New Shaun." She stated firmly, "His son, living again." As the door clicked behind them and Nick relocked it, the image of the child's bedroom, frozen in time, planted itself firmly in her mind, "Hell, I've done some crazy shite over the years, I suppose I could learn to accept the kid…"
"That's your call," Nick state matter-of-factly, "I'm pretty sure our mutual friend would tan my synthetic hide if he knew I'd shown you this but I think you needed to." He looked Cait in the eye, "You're a good woman, Cait, deep down, whether you admit it or not. He wouldn't be with you otherwise; you just need a little push from time to time."
With those words the gumshoe left her alone with her thoughts, her bizarre grief and determination.
"So, what do you think Cait?" Shaun asked her after the final whack with the monkey wrench, holding his newest creation aloft, "I'm pretty proud."
The pit fighter squinted at the circular object held in the child's hand, "Yeah, but what is it?"
"A brand new scope," he stated as if it were obvious, "With a double power zoom and auto-locking capability, when my dad slaps this on one of his guns nothing will be able to escape him! I used bits of glass, some old circuitry and the insides of the hot plate dad found, pretty cool huh?" Shaun's little chest puffed up with pride as he displayed his creation for all the Commonwealth to see.
"That's pretty cool, little man," Cait told him honestly enough, "Though it's way out of my skill set, I'll stick to breaking things, thank you very much; its what I'm good at."
"We all have our strengths, that's what my dad says," Shaun proclaimed, doing his very best impression of Alexander's speaking voice. As far as impressions went it wasn't half bad.
"He does say that," Cait admitted, pulling the cap from the bottle of Vim! and drinking half the contents in one go. Sure, Nuka Cola was great, but Vim! had a kick to it that she just loved, reminding her vaguely of the chems she used to use but without the guilt or lingering side effects. Alexander was doing his best to bottle more on the mainland seeing as traveling to Far Harbor was the only way to get the drink but so far things weren't optimal. Until then she savored every bottle of Vim! she got her hands on.
Three days had passed since Nick had shown her Shaun's nursery and she'd seen first hand exactly what her man had lived through. Since then she hadn't exactly tried to be Shaun's mom, that was far too much, far too soon, but she'd not purposely ignored him as she'd done before, trying to get to know the little guy, try to see him as Alexander's son and not the abomination she'd let herself believe he was.
As it turned out, Shaun was pretty good company. He was smart, quick on his feet and full of questions; their little chats had been far more pleasant than she could have possibly anticipated.
The sun was setting over Sanctuary Hills, visible past the waving flags on the settlement's edge as the duo sat on the bench overlooking the bridge. The tops of the buildings in New Sanctuary were just visible in the distance, factories just beginning to shut down for the evening as the workers returned home. It was a sight more beautiful and serene than Cait had seen in a long time.
The vision of nature however, despite what very real beauty it offered, was immediately overpowered by the ragged looking man who came proudly striding across the bridge. Strong ambled along behind him, a sledgehammer in each hand, muttering under his breath about milk, nothing new. MacCready had his hunting rifle slung across his shoulder, whistling happily. Curie was nowhere to be found but the general tone of the group suggested she had remained behind with Preston rather than have been seriously injured or killed.
Leading the duo, laser musket held proudly in both hands while his coat tails blew in the wind, victorious grin across his features, was her man, Alexander Blackwood, general of the Minutemen. The second his little eyes fell upon the victorious general, Shaun squealed, "Dad!" Leaping up from the bench and rushing towards his father as fast as the tiny legs he possessed could carry him.
Alexander dropped to one knee, putting his musket aside and arms wide in time to catch the little boy catapulting into his embrace. "Heyah sport!" He told his son warmly, "Missed me much?"
"Yeah," Shaun admitted standing tall with the scope he'd constructed, "But I knew you'd come back. That's what I told everyone."
"And you know what?" Cait told him, striding across the bridge to wrap her own arms around Alexander's shoulders, "That's what he told me. This kid never faltered." She kissed her man on the nose gently before point to the son, "I believe Shaun has something he wants to show you."
"Yeah, made it myself!" After untangling himself from the hug his father was giving, Shaun presented the scope proudly, "I created this scope for you, I figure if you don't want it you could always sell it or give it to someone else." He looked up at it, beaming with pride, "It's really good."
"I can see that," the general admitted, holding the scope up to his right eye looking through both his own glasses and the scope itself. "You've got quite the knack for this sort of thing, Shaun, good job." He patted the boy on the back before turning his full attention towards her. "Now, I don't believe I gave you a proper hello." Wrapping his arms around the pit fighter's waist he pulled her in close, kissing Cait with far more intensity than she had. "I missed you," he whispered in her ear after their connection ceased.
Cait giggled, actually giggled which wasn't a sound she made all that often, "I can tell." She looked back at Strong and MacCready both awkwardly waiting for the moment to be over, brushing their feet against the restored Sanctuary Hills' bridge without comment. "Curie stay behind with Garvey then?" The Irishwoman enquired, more out of genuine curiosity than anything else.
Alexander nodded, "The raiders hit Preston pretty hard, plenty of wounded needing attention, but the good news is we broke the gang and hunted them down. One less band to plague the Commonwealth, and…" He paused, his face starting to split with sheer excitement, "And I found something really amazing on one of them."
"What is it dad?" Shaun asked, looking up with eyes wide, "What did you find, tell me!" The kid was bursting with the same excitable enthusiasm that his father was so famous for and, in that moment, Cait couldn't honestly say Shaun wasn't really her man's son after all. There was the same crooked grin, the same over exuberance to things that didn't really matter and that same good nature. She'd honestly been happy spending a few days with Shaun, Nick's words still ringing in her skull, the image of the nursery omnipresent in her mind, yet it was her choice, a choice she made willingly.
As for Alexander's surprise find he could contain himself no longer, "Check this out!" Slinging about the old Soviet Union backpack he claimed was a souvenir from his time during the war, the general dropped it the ground, snapping it open with a flourish. On top of the typical pile of medical supplies, foodstuffs and ammunition, was a square of yellow fabric, folded over neatly, certainly with more care than Alexander took of most of his clothes.
The general reached in, taking the yellow cloth almost reverently before unfolding it before Cait's eyes. It was a flag, strikingly simple in its design. Its entirety was a brilliant yellow, save the center. Resting in the middle of the yellow square was a black snake, coiled and ready to strike. Beneath it, printed in bold, black letters were the words, "Dont tread on me." Alexander held his prize aloft with a reverent joy. "One of the raiders was carrying it, before I put a laser round through his chest and took it!"
"It's great, darling," Cait stated, entirely unsure what about the simple design had her man so enthusiastic, "What's the significance?"
"This," he stated proudly, "Is the Gadsden flag, a symbol for the original colonists who rebelled against Britain in the war that'd eventually create America. I figured, with the Minutemen being a rising power in the remains of America well on our way to rebuilding it, it'd be an appropriate warning for anyone who's foolish enough to mess with our people." He hung his head sheepishly, "But I'm horrible with design and seeing as I didn't think any copies of the flag were left behind I let the dream go…"
"But now…" Shaun stated, putting two and two together…
"Exactly! I'm taking this to New Sanctuary tomorrow and inputting it into the auto-loom! We'll have a copy of this flag flying in every settlement in a matter of weeks." Alexander set his face in a look of stoic determination, "We take care of our own, no matter who they are. If they're ours, we take care of them, and we pity whoever thinks they can attack us without repercussions."
As Alexander folded his flag up again for safekeeping, Cait listened to his words, looking down on the synthetic boy her man had taken as his son. She had mixed feelings about it, even now, even knowing what she did about Alexander and Nick, yet that bringing proclamation, "Taking care of our own," remained true. Alexander was hers, there was no doubt there, she loved him above all else, cherished him more than life itself. If he loved Shaun then she'd protect him, because that's what one did for her mate.
Patting the boy on the back, Cait stated simply, "I'm about done standing around when we could be eating something right now, what say we head home and grub up?"
It was unanimous, and so, battered and broken though each was in his or her own way, the trio returned to the House of Tomorrow, at long last, a true family, of a sort.
