36.

It was black for a long time.
Then the lid of the pod opened up and Tom was suddenly flooded with real-world sensations: the cold of the room, the bright burn of the lights, the smell of his own sweat on his clothes. He let out a yelp and rolled out of the lounger and hit the ground hard and let out a groan. His head felt strange and light while the rest of his body felt like lead. He eventually pulled himself to his shaking legs. His mind was still bringing all his memories to the forefront of his mind as he muttered, "That was the worst experience of my life."
"And you thought getting your inoculations was bad."
That voice, soft, deep, compassionate… familiar. It was as though, for the moment, the world had frozen.
Tom slowly turned, unsure if he would believe what he saw, even unsure of what he might see… but finally there he was, standing before him.
His father.
"Dad?" barely a whisper.
A small moment to look into his eyes and then Tom was moving forward, as if in a dream, before moving faster and then throwing his arms around his father, holding him tight. He felt his father's chest vibrate as he chuckled and held him just as tightly.
"Son," he muttered and Tom could feel the flood of nostalgia as his father held him close and spoke to him in a loving tone as he so often had deep down in another vault, "You've saved me… I was afraid I've be trapped in there forever. It's so good to see you."
His father loosened his arm and held Tom at arm's length, "But what on earth are you doing here?" he said with a laugh.
Tom wiped tears from his eyes, "I came here to find you… a lot of stuff got in the way but I'm here Dad. I'm here."
"Lucky for me: this certainly wasn't how I had expected things to go. I had no idea that when I got here Braun would be a lunatic. In fact the sooner we're out of here, the better. Let's get out of here, Tom."
"I second that motion," Tom muttered. He grabbed his pack from next to his pod, tucking his pistol back into his pants unaware that his father was eyeing this and the other weapons he had with him.
They fetched James' things and headed back to the surface. As they went Tom asked, "So what was it like being a dog?"
"You know," James answered, "Not all that bad… although not having my thumbs drove me mad."

They raided some of the freeze dried stores in the facility before finally leaving, pushing one of the rusty motorcycles over the entrance and cutting the power line to the activation button.
"We'd hate for anybody to accidentally stumble into Braun's hands again," James said.
Tom was beginning to notice the changes his father had gone through since leaving the vault. He still had his lab coat but now Tom was wearing his vault suit, and instead he was wearing a pair navy pants and a button up shirt. But more than that he had lost a great amount of weight and he looked tired and his hair had gone almost completely grey. He had aged a great deal and Tom wasn't sure if this was Braun's doing or just the wasteland's.
When they pushed open the door Tom had been expecting a bright light, something painful after being underground for god knew how long, but instead they found themselves entering the wasteland just before twilight. They ventured forward in a straight line towards DC, but it wasn't long before they knew they would need to stop and take shelter for the night.
They found an old deli next to the highway, with a long counter separating the eating area from the shelves and the kitchen. There were no doors and most of the windows were boarded up and at one point or another it seemed a fire had gone through, but the place was more or less what they needed.
"As long as there're two of us, one should keep watch," James muttered after they settled down in a corner of the diner.
"Get some rest, Dad, god knows how long you've been in that machine."
"Well let's see… I found the vault about three weeks after leaving 101. How soon after I left did you follow?"
"A couple of hours," Tom muttered
James looked at him, "Hours? Why Tom? I left you there for a reason; you were supposed to stay safe."
"Alphonse went off his nut, Dad. Jonas got beaten to death. If Amata hadn't woken me up I would've joined him, and you'd be stuck with Braun."
His father's voice lowered to a sombre tone, "Jonas is dead?"
Tom nodded.
James sighed, "How could I be so stupid. Of course he was going to take it out on everyone else… I'm so sorry Tom. I really thought you'd be safe."
"Don't worry about it," Tom muttered, "Anyway, if you found 112 three weeks after you left then you've been in there for at least a month… probably more. I would've found you sooner but-"
"It's a miracle you found me at all. To think… if it weren't for you, everything would have been for nothing."
"Did you find what you were looking for anyway, that G.E.C.K. thing?"
James frowned, "How did you know about that?"
"Same way I knew you were there: I found your notes at the Jefferson memorial."
James opened his mouth but Tom cut him off, "And I knew you had been there because I spoke to Doctor Li at Rivet City. I knew to speak to her because… you know what: why don't I just start at the beginning?"
And he did. Tom recounted his entire journey from the moment Amata woke him up to the moment he found himself in Tranquility Lane, omitting nothing. He mentioned creatures and James would nod his head and tell Tom the generally accepted term for the thing, such as the mirelurks or radscorpions. Aside from this he didn't say anything; he simply sat back and listened as Tom told him about pretending to threaten Amata at the vault door, about being shot in Springvale, about faking Silver's death in order to fool Moriarty, about Arefu, Burke and Tenpenny, about his journey to DC and his arrangement with Three Dog. It took hours, but Tom finally made it to the part of his journey where he finally found his father and then stopped, exhausted from talking and astounded that they had both managed to stay awake for it.
For a long time James didn't say anything. Then finally he said, with a strange but very subtle note in his voice, "I'm very proud of you. It sounds like you've done a lot of good, and I'm relieved that that town, Megaton, gets to stay standing. You're stronger than I gave your credit for… I would attribute that to your mother."
"Li told me a little about her… about the both of you actually."
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you the truth Tom… about your mother and I… and you. I just wanted you to have a shot at a safe, normal life. I thought you would have that in the vault."
Tom had so many things he felt like responding with… but none of them felt true at their base. He held his tongue, "It doesn't matter now. What matters is that we're in this together now and that one of us needs sleep."
"I've been asleep for over a month, apparently," James said, "I'll take first watch."
Tom picked up his rifle and passed it over to his father, whom looked at it with distaste and then placed it away from him.
Tom didn't notice this.
"Can I ask where you got the weapons?" James asked.
"Amata gave me the pistol: she stole it from her father's desk. I bought the rifle and I took the shotgun from a raider."
"A raider?"
"Yeah… he wasn't using it anymore."
This statement was followed by a silence.
"It was self-defence," Tom muttered.
James nodded, "I'm familiar with raiders and their… habits."
Another long silence. Tom felt like there was something his father was holding himself back from saying.
Finally James sighed and said, "Well you'd best get some rest. I'll wake you up in a couple of hours to take over."
Tom nodded, "Alright." He rolled over and closed his eyes. He was constantly aware through the night that his father, whom he'd been searching for months for, was sitting next to him, protecting and watching over him.

James let his son sleep through the night and didn't rouse him. He spent the night simply sitting with his back up against the wall and watching his son sleep, the son he had ignorantly left in the vault, thinking he would be safe. Now, because of him, his son was now constantly fighting for his life out in this wasteland and his only true friend in the vault had been murdered.
And now he was beginning to wonder what his son was becoming… beginning to wonder what the wasteland was doing to him…

The sun rose the next morning and Tom stirred awake. He looked over to his father and saw that he was still sitting up against the wall.
"Hey, you didn't wake me up?"
James smiled, "Didn't I? I must've gotten caught up in my thoughts."
Tom stretched and heard several cracks as he stood up, "Let's eat something and get on our way. If we start now we can get some distance before the sun starts dehydrating us."
"That sounds wise," James muttered as he too stood and stretched. He picked up their packs and held it out to Tom, but he was walking away slowly.
"Can you hear that?" Tom asked. He walked slowly over to the entrance to the diner, pulling the pistol from his belt.
James picked the rifle up off the floor as he watched Tom inspect whatever he thought he heard.
Tom was standing in the entrance, just about to look out when suddenly something hit him with full force in the face. Tom was thrown off of his feet and he fell backwards onto his back, dropping the pistol.
James threw himself behind the counter and hunkered down as four raiders, one of them huge with scars all over his bare shoulders, stomped into the diner. One of them pulled Tom up by the neck, "Where's the other one?"
Tom thought quick, realising that they hadn't seen his father, "What other one?"
"You were talking to someone."
"In case you haven't noticed," Tom choked out as he was forced up against the wall by the neck, "It gets kind of lonely out here." He looked over at another raider and then looked back to the one holding him, "Or maybe you've uh… found some company."
It took a moment for the raider to get it, but when he did Tom ended up with a cut lip and a black eye.
The raider pulled Tom away from the wall and held him at arm's length, pulling a knife and placing it to Tom's throat. They were now parallel to the wall.
"I'm going to really like this," the raider smiled, "And so are my buddies."
James picked his moment and leapt to his feet, holding the rifle. He pulled the trigger and the raider's head was obliterated. Tom immediately followed up. He pushed the body aside and tackled the next raider behind it.
James turned the rifle to try and take out the big guy, but the rifle was yanked from his hands. He leapt over the counter and wrestled him over the rifle. Meanwhile Tom was being pulled off the other raider by the third. He threw his elbow back and caught him in the stomach. He turned in time to block an arm coming down with a knife and threw his forehead into the raider's nose, breaking. The raider cried out and Tom instinctively hit him the only way he could think to take him out fast: he sent his foot hard up in between the raider's legs. He turned in time to get hit hard in the face. He blocked another punch and then sent his own. The raider caught him and spun, throwing him across the room. He hit a cupboard door and moved forward to try again, but the raider sent a front kick into his chest. He was thrown back and crashed through the cupboard door in a cloud of dust.
James was thrown off of the other raider after putting up a good fight. He charged an approaching raider and they hit the wall hard. He punched him in the stomach a few times before the big one wrapped his arm around his throat and pulled him back. He managed to kick out and catch the other raider in the face.
The big one held James fast while the other two, bruised and bleeding took their anger out on James' body.
Tom dragged himself out of the cupboard, covered in dust, winded and clutching a broomstick with the broom itself snapped off.
He saw the raiders beating down on his father and something was set alight inside him. He lunged forward with the stick and buried it deep inside the back of one of the raider's legs.
He wrenched the stick from the raider and buried it in the stomach of the other as it turned around. He pressed forward and pushed the stick right through it. He let go as the raider stumbled back, choking.
The raider with the stabbed leg turned on him but he grabbed him by the head and slammed it down on the counter and let him slide to the ground. As he slid Tom pulled the pistol from his belt. He turned and saw the big raider holding his father.
"Let him go," Tom muttered.
"Drop the gun," he responded.
James made a choked noise that might've been, 'Shoot him.'
Tom and the raider locked eyes for a long moment. Finally Tom dropped the pistol.
The raider through James aside and charged forward, grabbing Tom by the throat and pushing him back over the counter.
Tom got a hand up to the raiders head and pulled him down as he threw his head forward, head-butting the raider. He braced himself against the bar and pushed the raider back with his feet.
He fell back and charged back just as hard, a knife now in his hand. Tom grabbed a glass bottle from the counter and swung it into the raider's face, shattering it. The raider let out a cry and swung around with the knife. Tom caught his wrist and shoved the shattered end of the bottle into the raider's throat. He pushed hard, driving him back until they hit the wall, burying the shards of glass even further in. Finally the raider stopped struggling and Tom let him fall to the ground.
James watched as Tom picked his pistol up from the floor and put a bullet between the eyes of the last breathing raider. Then he helped him to his feet, "That was a close one."
Tom wiped some blood away from his lip with his sleeve, "Let's salvage what we can and leave."
James nodded and watched as Tom rifled through the pockets of the now headless raider first. His son had definitely changed… and not for the better.
Soon he was going to need to tell him this.