Repetition in Three Movements, a fallout fanfic

Prelude - Vault 111

I have to find my son.

The great clang of the outer doors shocks the sole survivor from their thoughts. The lift from Vault 111 continues its climb, slowly grinding its way to the surface. The survivor flexes their wrist, adjusting the fit of the portable computer they pried from some long dead scientist. A Pip-boy, the name comes unbidden. Only minutes after recovering it, and already it feels like it's been a part of their wrist forever.

An arm raises to block the sun. Then the lift stops. As they expected, everywhere is death and ruin. The hellscape is new and terrifying - yet oddly familiar.

Don't worry, Shaun, Mommy's coming.

I'll find you, Shaun. Daddy's coming.

oOoOoOoOo

1. Overture - Concord

"Jesus Christ," was all that Preston Garvey could say as he watched the battle below. He still held his laser musket in trembling hands, but no longer provided covering fire. Nate simply didn't need it.

The Power Armor on the roof had done the trick, alright - the newcomer had made short work of the raiders. But when the Deathclaw emerged from the street, Preston feared the worst. When the minigun's sharp report ended, its ammo depleted, Preston shouted for the man to retreat. The deathclaw was quicker, however, and pounced on the armored vault dweller before he could get away.

Preston had no clean shot - the beast's thick hide meant that his laser would do little from above. He just hoped that the deathclaw would wander off when he finished devouring Nate.

And then he saw the deathclaw's head snap back, allowing the vault dweller to scurry out from underneath. Rising, Nate took the now useless minigun and proceeded to bludgeon the deathclaw. Again and again he struck the beast's head, and again and again blood and gore spilled onto the street. Even after the thing stopped twitching, Preston could see each strike - and hear the scream of rage that punctuated it.

oOoOoOoOo

"Jesus Christ," was all that Preston Garvey could say as he watched the battle below. He still held his laser musket in trembling hands, but no longer provided covering fire. Nora simply didn't need it.

Preston had heard the heavy footsteps on the roof, and saw pieces of broken steel fall into the street as Nora freed the minigun. But she didn't jump down yet. Instead, she had made her way to the rear of the museum and dropped down quietly, using an old fire escape. Had she abandoned them? No, there she was flanking the raiders - she was circling around to the north, planning to put them between her minigun and the museum.

Or maybe not - he saw her pass at the end of the street, quietly but urgently. Preston took a shot at a raider then - missing, but drawing their eyes to his position. Clearly the vault dweller had a plan.

And as she sprinted back into view, Preston's eyes grew wide. If her plan didn't involve her running like hell down the street, ignoring the raiders, then they had a problem. Of course, that's when he heard the explosion, followed by a great howl of rage.

Nora had made it back up the stairs by the time the Deathclaw finished his meal - not a single raider survived. "It sounded hungry," was all she had said when Sturges asked how the hell she knew a freaking Deathclaw was hiding in Concord.

oOoOoOoOo

"Jesus Christ," was all that Preston Garvey could say as he watched the battle below. He still held his laser musket in trembling hands, but no longer provided covering fire. Nate wouldn't be needing it anymore.

The raiders had been easily dispatched - a minigun is good for that. Unfortunately, the vault dweller had missed the one raider on the roof. Preston's shouted warning did nothing more than distract Nate from the threat - the grenade knocked him down and shredded the armor on his right leg. The Raider saw this, and kept him down with a well placed bullet to the exposed leg. Nate's scream seemed to draw the attention of a deathclaw, which made short work of the crippled vault dweller.

Preston stepped back and closed the window. "Sturges, we're going to need another plan."

oOoOoOoOo

2. Interlude - Fort Hagen

"Mark My Words, the Brotherhood's here to start a war. "

Nate turned back to the massive airship, choosing not to reply. Nick wondered what he was thinking as the Brotherhood of Steel made their entrance. Other than that squad at Cambridge, Nick had not seen many brotherhood soldiers in the Commonwealth. And Nick was sure that Nate had never seen anything like this, even in his time in the army.

Nick saw Nate's hand rest on the handrail, then grip tight. He could hear knuckles crack. Nate's voice was deadly calm when he finally spoke.

"Nick, how many men do you think that thing can carry?"

The detective's eyes grew wide. "I don't know. Even if I guessed, we don't know how many of those vertibirds came along."

Nick saw Nate nod, though he still didn't turn around. When he replied, his voice was ice and steel.

"Nick, I'm going to kill them all."

oOoOoOoOo

Nora turned back to the massive airship, choosing not to reply. Nick wondered what she was thinking as the Brotherhood of Steel made their entrance. Other than that squad at Cambridge, Nick had not seen many brotherhood soldiers in the Commonwealth. And Nick was sure that Nora had never seen anything like this, even in her pre-war days.

She spoke without looking at him. "The Railroad is small potatoes now, thanks to the institute. The Gunners are thugs and mercenaries, but there aren't all that many of them. Would the Brotherhood go to war over the minutemen?" At this Nora turned, and nodded when Nick shook his head. "OK, then - who's the biggest fish to fry in the commonwealth?"

The detective's eyes grew wide. "You think they're going after the institute?"

"Who else?" She pointed to the southeast, at the now distant airship. "You said it yourself, that thing's coming for a war. They're going to crack the institute open like an egg."

Nora checked her rifle, something she always did when she was worried. "Nick, do you think a legion of jarheads in full power armor will stop to rescue one 10 year old boy?"

Nick's look of horror was her only answer.

Nodding, she started reloading her rifle. "So. How does a girl join the Brotherhood of Steel?"

oOoOoOoOo

3. Con Moto - The Institute

"Fascinating. But, disappointing."

The old man looked at the synth - for it could be nothing else - and shook his head. There was no emotion in his voice, as if he were dictating notes into a recorder for later analysis. Before the war, his lab coat might have labelled him a doctor or healer - but here, in this sterile room, it said only administrator.

Nate did not know what to think. The man looked familiar, somewhat. A face, just at the edge of his memory…

"Please. Try and keep an open mind," The man continued. "I recognize that you are emotional, and that your journey here has been fraught with challenges. Let's start anew."

Challenges? No shit, challenges. Nate fought to keep himself calm. It had taken him 10 months to get to this place, and now the end of the road…. wasn't. This had better be good.

"I am Father. Welcome to the Institute."

Nate was over it already. "I could kill you. Right here. Right now."

The old man met his gaze, and his voice did not waver. "Yes, yes you could. And I would be powerless to stop you."

Wrong answer. Nate unholstered his 10mm pistol and took aim at the man's forehead. "I'm only going to ask once. Where is my son?"

The old man's eyes grew wider. He had not expected this. "After your son was taken from the vault, you remained frozen for an additional sixty years. Not ten - sixty. Your son, if he survives, would be about my age."

Father's eyes softened, and Nate could see the beginnings of a smile, despite the weapon in his face. "It's me. I am Shaun. I am… your son."

Nate looked into the man's eyes, and saw no fear. No… nothing. As if this were just another experiment. That's all the commonwealth is to these people. That's all my son was. That's all I am.

"Bullshit." And with that, he pulled the trigger. The pristine metal walls behind Father were painted with blood and bone, and the ruined corpse fell heavily to the floor.

It was seven minutes before Justin Ayo could get the door open. He and X6-88 did not know what to expect when they entered - so the sight of Father's corpse and a pool of blood was a shock, even to the unflappable courser.

Nate sat on the floor, next to the corpse. His hands were covered in blood and gore. X6 could now see that Father was laying on his stomach, and that Nate had been rooting in his skull.

"No synth component," sighed Nate. "They all have a component at the base of the brain. That's how you know you killed a synth, and not…" his voice trailed off.

The man looked up at X6-88. He was entirely non-threatening, and his voice matched his body language. "Tell me, courser - was he telling the truth?"

X6 had not known what Father had said, but knew who this man was - and what his relationship to Father had been. From that, it could only be one thing.

"Yes, sir."

Nate nodded. "Thanks, kid." Then his pistol went to his temple.

oOoOoOoOo

Nate did not know what to think. The man looked familiar, somewhat. A face, just at the edge of his memory…

"Please. Try and keep an open mind," The man continued. "I recognize that you are emotional, and that your journey here has been fraught with challenges. Let's start anew."

Challenges? No shit, challenges. Nate fought to keep himself calm. It had taken him 8 months to get to this place, and now the end of the road…. wasn't. This had better be good.

"I am Father. Welcome to the Institute."

Nate looked at him incredulously. "Father? What the hell kind of name is that? Or is it a title?"

"It is a title - an unofficial one, of course. It's what I've come to mean to the people of the institute." Now Nate saw just a hint of emotion and uncertainty on the older man's face. "...Just as you mean to your son."

The mention of his son threatened to set him off again, and again he fought to remain calm. "You know who my son is. You had him here, when you made… that." Nate stabbed an angry finger at the synth boy, standing still and lifeless in the glass cage. "So I'm going to ask you once. Where is my son?"

To his credit, the old man didn't back down. "I need you to realize that this situation is far more complicated than you could have imagined. You have travelled very far, and have suffered a great deal to find your son."

Now, just the hint of a smile on the man's face - and Nate got it. The man was a dead ringer for his grandfather. He had died when Nate was just a boy, but Nate had hoped that some of his kindness would live on in his namesake - Shaun.

"Well, your tenacity and dedication have been rewarded. It's good to finally meet you, after all this time."

The man placed a hand on his heart, smiling gently at Nate. "It's me. I am Shaun. I am… your son."

Nate stared at him. He did not realize he had started weeping. Nor did he see his son flinch when he wrapped his arms around him.

"It's really you. After all this time." Nate didn't notice that Father - Shaun - was hugging him back.

oOoOoOoOo

The young synth looked up from his puzzle as the woman walked in. He had never seen anyone come in that way before - usually Father entered from his office.

"Hi there," Nora said, seeing the boy. "You must be Shaun."

Confused, the synth stood and walked to the glass wall. "Yes, that's right - I'm Shaun. Are you here to see Father?"

Nora smiled softly, seeing the boy who might have been hers - in another life, perhaps. "Yes, I am here to see Father. Could you call him for me?" She set her pack down and took a seat at the small desk.

"Father? Father!" There was no panic in the synth's voice, only lingering confusion - but Father was always meeting with people Shaun didn't know.

The door slid open, and Father entered. If the synth had been confused, Father was absolutely bewildered. Before he could speak, the woman turned her chair to face him. She did not stand up.

"Have a seat, Shaun. We have a lot to talk about."

A/N: This was a bit of a writing exercise I put together early in my fanfiction days. Fallout 4 is the sort of game you either love, or you don't. And if you love it, you play through multiple times. Nate, Nora, or your own OC - each has followed the path. Does Kellogg realize how often he escaped death, simply because there was a quicksave handy? How would Yet Another Stupid Death look to Preston Garvey? This is a play on that idea, and I still think it came out well.

Some of my favorite works are works that master the short form. Isaac Asimov was brilliant with a low word count. In fanfiction, look to Cauterize by Lady Altair (on FFN), for example. It's a masterwork - fewer than 2000 words and not a one is wasted. Stories like this, especially my early ones, were attempts to do something similar (though never as good as those examples).

Originally posted at Ao3 11/06/2016.

Feedback, as always, is welcome.