*Crawls out of grave…* I'm back! *Dodges bullet, two lasers, and a mini nuke* Yow! Okay, I deserved that one, I'll admit it. It's been months since I've posted anything, so I can understand everyone's frustration.

To all fans of Supernovas of Mass Effect, I want you to know that the next chapter of One Way Flight is coming. It's just taking a long-ass time because I'm having some… let's just call it "difficulties" and leave it at that. I also had a nasty case of bronchitis a while back during the Spring Semester, and that only made my delays worse, so real fun times all around. The new chapter will come, but I won't make any promises on when.
ALSO: Please do not write reviews for Supernovas of Mass Effect on this story. This is a stand-alone with no connection to my Supernovas Saga. Keep them separate okay? I would really appreciate it. Thank you, Blindluck92 out. -
AUGUST 11, 2016

Now to all fans of this story, I've got a shiny new chapter for your reading pleasure. Not very long, and I probably should have used this time to work on One Way Flight, but I was struck with equal parts boredom and inspiration. Hope you like it.

Oh, and I'd like to take a moment to offer a huge thank you to Powerslammer for aiding me with the fight scene in this chapter. Much obliged, my friend!

And now, the guest reviews:

EG: Glad you like it. Sorry there isn't more substance to this chapter, but there'll be more to dig into as the story picks up speed and gets further into the actual plot.

Iamleath: Your hopes that I continue have come true. Sorry it took so long, but I'm enjoying this story, so more should come… eventually.

Summary: Nathaniel Reese steps into the Combat Zone for the first time in over two hundred years. He's still undefeated.

Spoilers: Fallout 4, of course. There's also a couple references to other media, but nothing with spoilers.

Disclaimer: My long silence included (among other things) an attempt to own Fallout and other video game franchises. Obviously it failed, because I still don't own a damn thing.


In the Zone

Commonwealth, 2287
Sanctuary Hills

Nathaniel Reese already had mixed feelings about these "Minutemen" walking around Sanctuary like they owned the place. Yes, it was exactly the kind of save haven they needed, exactly when they needed it, but it was also his home! Now these interlopers trampled on his past while waxing poetic about building a better future. Had they no respect for the dead at all?

And speaking of building things…

"Come on!" Sturges whined as he followed Nathaniel. "We gotta make some beds if we wanna live here! Crops and water too! And maybe a few defenses so we're safe from raiders!"

"Are your arms broken?" Nathaniel asked, pinching a hand over the bridge of his nose.

Sturges frowned. "Uh, no."

"What about the Longs? Are their arms broken?"

"No, but why-"

"Then I suggest you quit sitting with your thumb up your ass and do it yourself! You're a community now. Start acting like one." Nathaniel yelled. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to go hunt down the man that murdered my wife and kidnapped my son!"

"Great!" Marcy Long complained. "Thanks for nothing asshole!"

Nathaniel whirled around and snarled at Marcy. "Look ten meters that way, you'll notice you still have your husband. I have nothing. My family and my country are both gone! I give you a safe place to live, yet you continue to bitch at anyone within earshot. Final warning: show some fucking respect for once in your miserable life, or I'll evict you from Sanctuary Hills in a body bag!"

Grabbing his Army duffel, Nathaniel stepped into the remains of his former home and walked directly into his destroyed bedroom. The lead-lined floor safe he'd installed for emergencies was exposed, but unopened. Emergencies like, say, the end of the fucking world?

Inside this safe was real hardware. Untouched in over two hundred years, it was all customized to Nathaniel's personal – and extremely lethal – preferences. Suppressed Russian Makarov pistol with a hair trigger and a quick-eject magazine, modified to hold and shoot standard 9mm rounds. Actual combat armor that hadn't been salvaged twenty times by Raiders and scavengers. Anchorage-issue R-91w "Winterized" Assault Rifle. Schematics to build his own version of the Gauss rifle he'd used at Anchorage as well. Frag mines, field rations, fresh water, reserve ammunition, stealth boys, stimpacks, and of course, duct tape. Pretty much everything a soldier could possibly need to kick the apocalypse in the teeth had been secured inside this safe. Waiting for its master to return and unleash hell upon his enemies once more.

Nathaniel placed the Gauss rifle schematics, rations, water, stimpacks, and the other essential supplies into the duffle and donned his combat armor for the first time in over two centuries. Slinging the duffle across his back and the assault rifle's strap over his shoulder, Nathaniel was about to lock the safe back up when a final, familiar item inside caught his attention. "Almost forgot about you, old friend," he said with a faint smirk, reaching into the safe one more time before locking it up and hiding it away from the sight of any potential scavengers.

As he stepped out of his centuries-destroyed home, Nathaniel Reese gave Codsworth orders to kill anyone who set foot on what was left of the property. That patch of land belonged to the Reese Family, namely himself. Trespassers would be neither tolerated nor spared. While not overly fond of his master's aggression, Codsworth would carry the order to the letter. He knew Mister Reese could be… brutal, but he also knew that such brutality was born of his intense love for kin and country.

"Not to worry Sir!" the robotic butler called out. "I'll keep the place in order while you find little Shaun!" Nathaniel's features softened for a moment, and he gave Codsworth a smile and a nod. Then he whistled for Dogmeat and set off for the radioactive ruins of downtown Boston.


Two Days Later
Downtown Boston

Dogmeat barked wildly as Nathaniel kept close behind. Obviously his canine companion wanted him to see something, but what?

He filed away the "what" for now – as well as the "why" because the damn German Shepherd was just that smart – away and simply allowed Dogmeat to lead him into the old Theater District. Also known as the Combat Zone back in the day, this had been the Red Light District of Boston. Though now it seemed the "combat" part of its name was meant quite literally. There was a time when Nathaniel would come here for some fun. That was before he met his wife Nora, of course. She changed his whole life.

Now she was dead, and his life had changed again. Not for the better this time in Nathaniel's opinion.

Shaking the thought from his mind before it could take root, Nathaniel looked around for Dogmeat. Following the sounds of barking and Raiders getting their throats torn out, the soldier found the dog outside of Orpheum Theater… or what was left of it anyway. Like everything else in Boston, the place was a hollowed out husk of its former self. Dogmeat had already killed the Raiders outside and was sitting right outside the door with his tongue flopping out of his mouth, blood still dripping from his teeth. He barked at his human.

"What, you want me to go inside?" Nathaniel asked. Dogmeat barked again, an affirmative, eliciting a groan from the Devil of Anchorage. "Oh, come on! According to his secretary, Valentine's last known location is the other way. Don't get me sidetracked again." Dogmeat cocked his head to the side and gave the canine equivalent of a raised eyebrow. "Why? Oh, I don't know. Maybe because last time you took point, I almost got killed by a giant yellow-green freak running at me with a mini-nuke like this world's worst game of Football?" Dogmeat turned around and began to paw at the door. "Ugh, fine! But don't make me regret this."

Dogmeat panted and wagged his tail happily. The soldier chuckled and shook his head, unable to stay mad at the dog for long.

"Alright boy," Nathaniel said. "Let's go fuck some shit up." Drawing his Makarov and tactical knife for simultaneous use, he kicked down the door.


Combat Zone: Arena

Tommy sighed. Cait should've won easily by now. The fact that she hadn't already won was just more proof that her psycho addiction was making her sloppy. It wouldn't be today, and it probably wouldn't be tomorrow, but sooner or later, Cait's reign as Combat Zone champion would come to a bloody end.

WHAM

Definitely not today though. Not after Cait just smashed the Raider's face into the floor like that. His little red-haired bird planted a boot on the still-warm corpse and raised her fists to the crowd. They cheered despite her victory because it was still a brutal fight, just the way they liked it. Sighing again, Tommy got back to his job. Hell, the door was already opening for the next contestant. He'd hoped Cait would at least get a small (non-addictive) breather in between rounds, but not when the damn Raiders were so eager to run in and get their asses kicked by his little bird.

"And who's this?!" Tommy called out loudly as the figure approached. Woah, hold up? There was something familiar about the man, but the Southie ghoul couldn't quite place it…

Until the spotlights shone down to reveal one Nathaniel fucking Reese. Tommy's jaw hit the floor. "Nate?! Son of a…" shock quickly gave way to fear, not for his old friend but for the Raiders keeping Tommy in business. "Crazy asshole! I don't know how you're still alive, but find cover quick if you wanna stay that way!"

Cait wiped the sweat off her brow and looked at her employer curiously. "What're you goin' on about now Tommy? You know that man?"

Tommy nodded grimly. "That ain't a man, little bird. That's a monster, a devil, and he's about to kill every Raider in the room." He pointed at the very empty space where Nate had just been standing.

Cait found it difficult to believe Tommy's words, more so than usual. Sure, the man looked tougher than most guys who stepped into the ring with her, but killing every Raider in here? That's kind of stretching it. Maybe he could take down a few, but against their numbers, the so-called "devil" was as good as dead.

"Come on, guys! Let's rip this guy to shreds!" A Raider shouted.

"Gonna fuckin' tear you apart!" Another growled.

"A dozen of you assholes against me? Hardly seems fair." Nate realized, taking his Makarov pistol out and placed it on a nearby table. "I'll just set this right here. Even things out a little bit."

"I'd pick that gun up if I were you, punk-ass motherfucker!" A scarred Raider screamed while he charged his enemy down, swinging a chainsaw around like a maniac. He was going to cut the cocky little bastard right down the middle.

Nathaniel stepped to the side, grabbed the Raider by the throat, and ripped his trachea out of his neck in one deft move. The Raider dropped his weapon and clutched at his neck, gargling a painful scream as blood and air spurted out of the new hole Nathaniel gave him.

"Son of a bitch!" Another one cursed from one of the rafters. He had an old fashioned, poorly maintained Winchester Repeater, and his outburst gave away his position. Nathaniel picked up an eight ball off a pool table and threw it like a splitfinger fastball right at the gunman. The speed and force of the throw lodged the eight ball right into his forehead, crushing his brain.

Four more Raiders charged at Nathaniel, armed with bats, makeshift axes, golf clubs, and even a pool cue. They were like snarling dogs; all anger and no discipline, thinking their numbers guaranteed them victory. This was exactly what Nate's sensei trained him for all those years ago, and that was before he joined the Army. He'd killed far worse, and he'd been doing it since long before these pathetic condom-failures were even an itch their daddies' pants. This wasn't even an exercise for him, but he might as well have some fun since, hey, the damn dog brought him here after all. Nathaniel pulled out the "old friend" he'd retrieved from the safe in his home:

A tanto dagger that his sensei gifted to him before Nate left for the Army. A sharp and deadly extension of Nathaniel's own will.

The first one to come at him was the guy with the golf club, swinging at Nate with full force. Nate easily intercepted the wild swing and caught the club, then he flipped the Raider over his shoulder and onto the pool table he'd taken the eight ball from. Nate brought the tanto down, stabbed the man in his brainstem and twisted.

The one with the axe, a big bruiser with thick arms and a gut like a keg, came in at Nate's side and took a swing at his head, looking to decapitate him. Nathaniel spun beneath the axe and slashed his razor-sharp dagger across his attacker's midsection. The man's intestines and stomach spilled out of his oversized gut like a sack full of rancid worms all over the floor. He fell back screaming in awful agony, and vainly tried to put his own guts back inside himself.

The one with the bat tried to attack Nate from behind, but unlike the soldier, he wasn't paying attention to where he was going and accidentally caught his foot in his fellow Raider's intestines. He slipped and slid on the floor, pulling more of the other guy's guts out of his body in the process, then fell flat on his back. Nate stomped his foot down on the man's throat and broke his neck like a twig.

Nate's trained and experienced sense of hearing picked up the all-too-familiar sound of a rifle being cocked. With no time to look, Nate dove to the ground to avoid the gunshots being fired at him, slid on the axe-man's blood and guts behind another pool table, then flipped it over for cover. He took a quick peek over the table and caught site of yet another Raider, this one carrying an antiquated Mosin Nagant rifle. How it survived the war and years of wear and misuse was a complete mystery, but there was no way an untrained savage could fire a bolt-action rifle like that in rapid fire succession. He waited for the next shot, and as soon as he heard the bullet fire, Nate threw his tanto across the room with astounding speed and nailed the rifleman square in the eye.

There was still a few of the Raiders left, and after watching their buddies get killed, they wanted payback. Nate was going to have to kill them all, but first, he was going to go get his dagger back.

Cait couldn't believe what she was seeing, even as it was happening before her own damned eyes. When she saw him put his gun down, Cait thought the man was suicidal, but she couldn't have been more wrong. With nothing but a knife, the stranger had taken out more than half the Raiders that were stinking up the place. Then after he threw his knife into a Raider gunman's head, he started taking them apart with his bare hands, using some style she didn't even know existed.

He ripped them apart like they were nothing, and strolled through the joint with about as much effort as a walk in the park would take. Like these guys were nothing to him. It was so strange to watch. Somehow he intercepted, evaded and redirected all their attacks, their assaults just sliding off him like rain. Then he snapped their bones, necks and bodies just by grabbing and twisting them as soon as an opening appeared.

"What the hell kinda fightin' is that?" she wondered to herself. Tommy was right. This guy was a fucking monster.

Nate snapped another Raider's neck in his hands, then finally pulled his tanto out of the dead guy's skull. He was going to have to clean it thoroughly later. The blade hadn't seen use in over a century and probably needed maintenance. There was still a couple more Raiders to kill, but now he was bored.

"Come on! Get some, motherfucker!" One of the remaining Raiders snarled. Those were her last words before a bullet went straight into her mouth and blew the back of her head off.

Seeing the stranger had finally picked up a gun, the Mosin Nagant from the Raider he'd thrown his knife at earlier, and that he was damned good shot, the rest of the Raiders tried to run. They didn't get very far though, because unlike the rifle's previous owner, Nathaniel actually could shoot a bolt action rifle in rapid fire succession. When there was only one Raider left alive, the junkie dropped his weapon and got on his knees.

"Please! Please, show some mercy. I'll never raid again, long's I live!" The man begged.

Nathaniel looked at the guy with a disgusted expression on his face, but lowered the rifle.

"Y-you'll let me go?" The Raider asked hopefully.

"Fuck no. I'm just out of bullets." Nate bashed the Raider's face with the buttstock, then he started smashing the man's brains all over the grimy floor until there was nothing left but a wet, red mass with bits of skull and teeth where the guy's head used to be.

Cait licked her lips, glad as all hell that this Nate character hadn't stepped into the ring. She loved a good fight, absolutely loved it, but this guy… he didn't fight. Not like she did, or hell, not like anyone in the Commonwealth did. "Fighting" was two people wailing on each other, or taking shots from cover until one side stuck their head out at the wrong time and got it blown clean off.

No, this man didn't fight people. He killed them.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a slow, mildly-sarcastic clap. Oh good, so Tommy managed to keep his arse alive. Not all that surprising with the whole damned room too busy getting killed by one man, she supposed.

"Nathaniel fuckin' Reese, as I live and breathe," Tommy announced, working the crowd even as their corpses were bleeding all over the establishment.

"Tommy," the man called Nathaniel said in reply, dropping the Mosin Nagant and walking over to the ghoul, giving him a quick once-over. "You look like hammered shit."

There was a hint of nostalgia as Tommy barked out a laugh. "Yeah, Armageddon will do that to ya! But enough about me, look at you! Should've known it'd take more than the Bombs to kill your ass. You survived everything else the Chinese threw at you, why would their nukes be any different?" Tommy sobered up quick when he saw Nathaniel wasn't laughing with him. "Seriously, Nate, what the fuck? How are you still alive? You look like you haven't aged a damn day!"

"Vault-Tec," Nathaniel snarled, as if the name itself was some foul poison on his tongue. "They thought they could freeze the Devil underground. Instead they just pissed me off."

Cait frowned. This man, who had just killed every Raider in the Combat Zone, was a Vault Dweller? How did Tommy know him then?

"Ah shit," the ghoul sighed, knowing that he'd had over two centuries to numb himself to pre-War American corruption, but Nate's pedestal was just now getting broken with each dirty secret he found out about the country he loved. "You always had a blind spot on account o' yer patriotism, Nate."

"The Vaults were lies, Tommy. All of them, nothing but government-sanctioned petri dishes where madmen tried to play God. Now my country is gone, Nora is gone, and some sick, bald bastard has kidnapped my son."

"No," Tommy moaned, "not Nora. Dammit, Nate, I liked that woman. She was good people." Nathaniel accepted the condolences with a nod. "And you say Shaun was kidnapped, not killed?"

"I'll get him back." It wasn't an oath or a vow. It was a statement, as if he were declaring the obvious, like success was the only possible outcome. Because in Nate's mind, it truly was. "I'll get Shaun back," he said again, "but first, I'm going to hunt down the piece of shit that tore my family apart, and I'm going to kill him. Slowly." Again, it was a statement. No other possible outcome.

Meanwhile, all of Nate's talk of family and revenge was bringing back old and unpleasant memories that Cait would much rather stay buried and silent. She needed to drown them out, and for that, she needed crappy alcohol and a nice dose of psycho. Carefully, so as not to attract attention, the Irishwoman lifted a few doses off of the still-warm corpses that the Vault Dweller had actually bothered to kill with a gun. With a cursory inspection of the needle, Cait was seconds away from that sweet psycho haze she'd come to depend on when a powerful hand clamped down on her wrist. Startled, the redhead looked up to find Nate staring at her, his strong grip easily keeping the psycho syringe away from her arm.

"What the hell are ya doin'?" she cried.

"I was about to ask you the same thing!" Nate said evenly. He didn't sound angry, but he was definitely upset. Not that Cait cared, since she was angry, but Nate kept talking anyway. "Forget for a moment that I watched good men reduced to bloodthirsty animals by this drug, or that the list of side effects stretches right out that damn door. You were about to take a dose for a man over twice your weight!" Ripping the psycho from her grasp, Nate looked over his shoulder at Tommy, who was still standing where they'd been talking when Cait had gone to retrieve the psycho. "No wonder Raiders are all fucking insane! They're dumping the entire hypo into their veins with every shot. Now their nervous systems' are shot and they're getting positive feedback from mindless violence!" Releasing Cait's arm, Nate smashed her psycho on the floor and spat in disgust.

"Damn you, General Chase," the soldier cursed his delusional and long-dead superior officer. "This one is on your egotistical head."

Cait wasn't sure what just happened. Why was he pissed? That was her psycho, and…

And he knew where it came from, and what it did to people. Even when she'd been listening to Tommy and Nathaniel talk, it hadn't really sank in until that moment. This man, Nathaniel Reese, was from before the damned War. He said he'd watched good men reduced to animals by it, but what did that have to do with stopping her from using it herself? Not like she fit the definition of "good" anyway, and even if she did, what the hell difference would it make? Nobody had ever given a shite, and a man obsessed with finding a lost son wasn't going to be any different.

All the while, the gears were spinning in Tommy's head, though. He'd tried, oh had he tried, to clean the psycho addiction from his little bird. But even damaged and strung out, Cait had a stubborn fire in her, a flame burning inside that the Commonwealth couldn't snuff out with all its darkness.

The same fire that Nate had in his eyes when he ripped the psycho from her hands. Nobody had managed that, and then in comes Nathaniel, killing every Raider in Tommy's establishment and then matching Cait's stubborn anger with his own.

It was a no-brainer. Like before the war, the answer to all immediate problems was a simple one: Let Nate handle it. Yeah, that just might work...

"Well Nate, since the patrons are too dead to support my little bird's chem habit," Tommy said casually, "and since you're the one who killed them, why don't you take over her contract for me?"

As Cait started arguing with Tommy, Dogmeat trotted up to Nathaniel and licked his bloodstained hand, the one that had taken and destroyed the psycho. It was like the German Shepherd was urging Nate to accept Tommy's offer. The Devil of Anchorage smiled at that thought. "Mama Murphy was right about this dog. He is special."


Two Hours Later

With Dogmeat trotting alongside him, Nathaniel Reese grinned at the shotgun-toting redhead as she stomped ahead of him out the Combat Zone. He enjoyed a short rest on one of the less pungent bedrolls, as well as a quick meal that Tommy insisted on sharing "for old times' sake". Now, it was time to go find Nick Valentine, a task hopefully made easier by the added muscle Cait would provide. She had zero appreciation for the concept of stealth, but that was no problem. Any attention Cait drew to herself was attention drawn away from the soldier.

As if the Irishwoman somehow could tell his thoughts had shifted to her, Cait spun around and folded her arms across her chest, leveling a glare at Nate.

"We'd move faster if you kept your eyes on the road and off me arse!"


I'm too tired to give a post-chapter commentary, so I'll just say see you all next time. And until then…

Read, Review, and Enjoy!