From the moment that James woke up to see his son's eyes staring at him from where he sat in the pod, he knew that Lance was different.
It was and wasn't subtle.
His son wore faded cargo pants and a black shirt with some leather straps which had probably come from leather armor, all of which he had probably had a hard time getting, either the price or something else had to have stood in his way. Not to mention, his son's clothes was stained with blood. That said something too. It wasn't just the clothes he had, but the weapons too. Three grenades, a 10mm pistol, some ammo packs, a combat knife, and a land mine hung from his belt. There was a sniper rifle strapped to his back and a assault rifle he constantly held in his hands.
The subtle ways his son had changed he didn't spot until later, until they were a little more than a mile away from vault 112 and they had run across a pack of feral dogs (He barely saw one dog anymore, how was there a pack?) and he had drawn his revolver to fire but then there was a small snip sound and the dog closest to him dropped before it got within a foot of him. There was another snip and another was thrown back with the force of the bullet.
So James had pulled the trigger to his revolver and managed to take down another dog with a few shots. By the time he had finished with one his son had killed all the others and was now calmly reloading his sniper rifle, still in the kneeling position he had dropped into when the pack showed up. In a few seconds his son was up and walking.
This, James decided was one of the subtle ways his son had changed. Backtrack several years to when his son was ten and Lance was hesitant to shoot the radroaches that had infested the vault, fast forward again and suddenly his son was shooting dogs like it happened every day. (Which, James later realized, he probably did)
Lance could kill, and would kill, easily, without a second thought. He probably didn't even lose sleep at night over it.
James didn't see anything else until they were at Rivert City because his son had been leading the way while they had been traveling, not even turning around to see if there wasn't anything creeping up on them or if something hadn't already killed James.
Then, when his son was looking at him, he was painfully aware that he had changed. Four months, if that, and suddenly a stranger was wearing his son's skin.
Lance's face was dirtier, his black hair was longer and messier. Not that it mattered, no one really had time for hygiene in the Wastleland. Still, it meant that James had failed his son, he had made a mistake and his son had payed the price.
James often travelled back to Rivet City to pick up some supplies for all of them back at the Jefferson Memorial. Each time he did he heard more people talking. At first, James had no idea who this "Lone Wanderer" person was. Then as he heard more he started to piece together things. The Lone Wanderer had popped up roughly around the time Lance had left the Vault, a week after maybe. From what he heard, his son had been doing a lot of things, saving Megaton, helping Three Dog get back on the radio, and few other things. That, he could live with. Then, he started hearing the darker things. Trails of bodies left in his wake, whole building filled with live beings, even the small refuge the nonferal ghouls had, the Underworld. Most of the things could be reasoned, but some of them… just made it seem like his son had a taste for genocide.
It made him scared.
His son, who he had raised to be kind and just had seemingly thrown that out the window. Still, James couldn't blame Lance. He hadn't asked to be pushed out of the vault.
His son had simply adapted to survive. It wasn't his fault.
Lance was still Lance, just because he was out in the Wastes didn't mean much. He still had those green eyes he had gotten from his mother that were filled with kindness. Lance was just now also the Lone Wanderer.
Then, the Enclave was at the Memorial and the Lone Wanderer reared his head. The last thing James got to see was his son's eyes burning with hate for the Enclave as he slaughtered as many as he could.
Again, James was reminded about how much Lance had changed.
AN: I got this idea when my brother was playing Fallout, I haven't played it myself for a while so if the mentions of what the Lone Wanderer did/could do weren't right or something like it, that's why. Reviews are food for the voices in my head. Please review.