Notes:
The one time I post without checking. Sorry for the wall-o-text; should be fixed now.

Moment 051: Generation Gap


The director's office – or maybe his combined office/quarters, Piper thinks after a glance up a flight of stairs – is, in a word, huge. It's well lit, like any other part of the Institute that she's seen so far, and she spots several smaller rooms off to one side or the other, along with a good number of wide windows that look out to the main atrium.

It looks like it could serve very nicely indeed as family quarters, which strikes her as a little odd since she knows from Blue that Shaun is the only one actually living here. Power means placement, though – professionally as well as physically – so chances are that these quarters are for any chosen director, and switches inhabitants as the position does.

Having only one resident at the moment means that the space is almost eerily quiet, but also that what little sound there is is much easier to pinpoint; enough that she can continue through one large room, up a flight of stairs and around a corner until she sees a small sitting area, several file cabinets, and a lone desk with a single occupant.

Piper realizes belatedly that she has no idea how to address him. 'Shaun' seems a touch too familiar considering their individual relations to the same person, and 'Father' is almost excruciatingly weird for the exact same reason. So she settles for not picking one at all, and simply clears her throat before she remembers that maybe his official title of 'director' would have been a safe bet.

"Ah." It's too late to make any changes when Shaun turns at the sound, and it is so weird to see Blue's eyes in his face that she almost doesn't notice the small pill bottle that he slips into a drawer; all but out of her line of sight. "Miss Wright. Welcome."

Diplomacy, Piper wonders, or bluntness?

Bluntness wins.

"Am I?"

Shaun pauses halfway through standing and blinks – clearly caught off guard – but it only lasts for half a second before he gives a short breath that sound like another-near silent laugh she knows very well, and Jesus Christ she can even see Blue in the lines of his body when he stands fully. It's in the span of his shoulders, the tapering of his torso and the length of his arms and legs; tall without truly towering, but still seeming that way because everything about his frame is so proportionate.

Just like Blue.

There are differences, of course. His chest is wider, his chin – going by what she can tell from the neatly trimmed beard – is rounder and his nose a little more uneven. His eyebrows are spaced a fraction further apart, he's taller and surprisingly lean for his age, and this has got to be in the top three weirdest moments of her life so far because one more thing that this man has in common with Blue is the aura he exudes; competence, intelligence and this odd, innate sense of almost-authority that's so strong that the word 'sir' is on the tip of her tongue.

Definitely weird. Piper just hopes that she doesn't look as knocked off stride as she suddenly feels, and firmly tells herself to ignore the fact that he even walks like Blue when he approaches. All of these similarities to a person that she would trust with her life without a second's hesitation means that her immediate instinct is to trust him, and while she has promised herself to keep an open mind, that is way too big of a leap for a long, long while yet.

She shakes his hand when it's offered, though, and meets the steady, head-on gaze that's yet another similarity; calm and even and just a little calculating, as if he's looking at a puzzle that he doesn't quite know how to solve.

Blue gave her that look many a time, back when they'd first met.

"I must admit..." Shaun releases her hand in favor of slipping his own into the pocket of his lab coat, and uses his other to give his chin a little scratch. "I was expecting more than a few rounds of veiled, verbal jousting. You're certainly capable of that."

Piper doesn't bother to deny it, and instead simply watches him. "So you do have spies in Diamond City?"

There's a tug at the corner of Shaun's mouth, as well as a faint duck of his head. "We have spies in every major settlement," he acknowledges. "Some in high-ranking positions, and some merely common settlers."

Christ. Piper pinches the bridge of her nose and takes a breath. "Why are you admitting this to me so easily?"

"Strategic reasons." His footsteps are heavier than Blue's but the rhythm is the same, and Piper listens to them and lets her head just spin for a moment before opening her eyes back up to see him now standing by a small counter; over a dispenser of some kind and two ceramic mugs. "I believe that it is in the best interest of both the Institute and the Commonwealth as a whole for my mother's strongest affiliation to be with us." One mug is filled and set aside, and the other moved into place. "I also believe that she will have nothing to do with an organization that you do not wish to be a part of." He picks both mugs up, now, and gestures to the small seating area – a couch and a chair – with one hand. "Please. Sit."

Piper approaches but doesn't actually sit until he does – on the couch, which makes her take the chair - and she guesses that maybe that's the reason for him taking a sip from one of the mugs before offering it to her. Or maybe it's something he's been planning to do all along, to simply show her that the contents haven't been laced with anything.

Clearly, her distrust of the Institute is well known to this tiny (massive) part of it. But she takes the mug, even if she also makes sure to drink from the other side of it.

So fucking weird.

"Having that ultimate goal in mind," Shaun continues. "It seems to me that if I wish to have that goal realized, I need to do what I can in order to ensure that your... distrust of us is eased as much as possible."

There is one whopper of a headache building behind Piper's eyes right now, but she thinks tiredly that she really shouldn't have expected anything less. Everything about this particular section of Blue's life has been giving her migraines pretty much from day one.

Ah, well. Just another day at the office.

"How, exactly, do you propose to do that?" Piper asks, and settles a little more comfortably into her seat because she can at least respect the straightforward explanation. "In case you haven't heard, anyone born in at least the last 60 or so years have been raised to think of you guys as the devil."

"A quaint expression," Shaun muses; his fingers shaking ever so slightly until he folds them fully around his own mug. "But, I presume, an accurate one all the same." He takes a long swallow and Piper lets him; watching as surreptitiously as possible as he gathers his thoughts while she, in turn, tries to center her own. "You have a family, yes? Friends. People you care for and would do anything in your power to protect?"

Nat, Blue, Nick... Piper runs through the list in her mind and figures that she has a pretty good idea of where this particular line of conversation is headed. "Most people do."

"Most decent people do," is the wry correction.

"Decent people?" Her train of thought comes to a screeching halt at that line, and her blood roars to a boil in short enough time for that idea to fly right out the window. "Decent people?" Every instance of pain in Blue's eyes all boils down to this one moment, and in spite of her earlier intentions to at least remain polite, Piper lets it. "You listen to me, you xenophobic fucktard, you do not get to say word one about what decent people will or will not do." Her mug hits the table with a bang, and she watches Shaun blink and veer back as she herself abruptly straightens. "Decent people wouldn't kidnap and kill actual, decent people in order to replace them with spies, puppeteers and murderers. Decent people wouldn't consider the trauma of human beings some sort of experiment, and decent people sure as shit wouldn't place mothers in front of synths disguised as their missing children, just to see what the response would be!"

"I as-"

"Shut." Piper points a single finger at him. "Up. I don't give a molerat's asshole what value any of that gives to 'science' or the 'bettering of humanity', or whatever other crap you people spew in order to help yourselves sleep at night; the road to hell being paved with good intentions is a hoary, old saying for a reason, and you, Sir, are walking further down that road every single day. You created an entirely new race with the sole purpose of enslaving them; you willingly craft a reputation of cruelty and use it to your advantage to gain some sort of nightmarish control over the surface world; you knowingly sent your own mother straight from the world she knew into one where she could get killed just as soon as looked at without any sort of preparation, and you have the fucking nerve to sit here and talk to me about decency? Fuck. You!"

The last word has her voice rising to a loud bark that's bordering on a shout, and Piper shoves herself to her feet and stalks across the room to calm herself; shoving her hands though her hair more than running them, and taking several, deep breaths in an attempt to settle her racing heartbeat. Shaun, she senses somewhere at the edge of her consciousness, is watching her with something that crosses the border between intrigue and astonishment, and that more than anything else makes her heart ache for Blue' sake.

He really doesn't get it, does he?

Piper half-slumps back against a wall and scrubs a hand over her face as she sighs. She can, she supposes, sort of understand his mindset, if only in an abstract sort of way. If he has truly never left the Institute; if he was raised here and lived his entire life here, with all of his focus on intellectual pursuits and very little indeed on anything else, then... well, then it probably would be very easy to slip into the belief that the end justifies the means; especially if he was an experiment himself more than an actual person, and so was never taught to truly relate to – or feel for – other people.

Shit. She blows out a breath and crosses her arms, but stays where she is as she watches him and makes a choice. "I don't really remember my mother," she admits. "She died shortly after my little sister was born. I can't recall what she looked like, and I can only barely remember what her voice sounded like when I think of the lullabies she used to sing. Sucks, but that's life, y'know?"

"I suppose," Shaun allows haltingly.

"My father died a few years later." She has to clear her throat, now, because the memory of finding him is... yeah. "He tried to do the right thing and got his head blown off for his trouble. So-" A long breath. "- Nat and I became orphans. I was thirteen, and the only relative left to care for a four year-old." Her lips twitch into a smile that probably looks as sick as it feels. "I've seen the same thing happen to countless other kids, up there. They're all they've got, and they start stealing to feed themselves, which turns to killing to defend themselves, or in some cases to whoring themselves out because that's the only thing they can do. There are people willing to pay their way into a child's pants, and it's at least a little better than waiting to be found by some sick fuck who'll just take what they want."

"I was lucky." Piper pushes off the wall and steps over to the dispenser; filling a new mug since the contents of her original one have been spattered over most of the table, and very carefully not looking at the man she's talking to. "I was living in a small, tight-knit community that took care of its own, and my folks had at least taught me basic skills like reading and writing. I was also old enough to be trusted with other stuff like cooking, sewing or working a small field, so I had means of making a living that didn't include spending time on my back."

"If I may," Shaun interrupts; his voice gentler than Piper's ever heard it, though she admittedly doesn't have a whole lot to go on in that regard. "Exactly what happened to your father?"

"He figured out that the man in charge of the settlement's defenses was going to sell us out to a group of raiders." She secures the filled mug and takes a moment to study its contents; not coffee like she knows it from up topside, but dark and steaming and smelling about like the right stuff. "Leave the gate open, take a payday and walk off while we were slaughtered." A sip, and she turns in place; leaning back against the counter and meeting Shaun's eyes. "He'd get what he wanted out of the bargain, so to hell with anyone else, right?"

Not exactly a subtle barb. But going by the flinch in those very familiar eyes, it still manages to hit its mark.

"And yet..." Shaun rests his elbows on his knees and studies her. "You continue to feel that with all the evil in the Commonwealth, it remains something worth fighting for."

"Yes." She meets his gaze without wavering. "There's way more evil up there than any one place should have, but if I write off the Commonwealth based only on that, then I'm doing a serious disservice to all the decent people who want to make it better."

"And you feel that this... making it better, that this is an option?"

"Anyone who feels that improving the world isn't an option may as well just lay down and wait for death," Piper tells him bluntly. "We can all make some kind of change for the better; even by the smallest of margins."

"I see." Shaun settles back in his seat, and Piper watches him watch her while she sips her coffee. "Well, I can certainly admire your dedication, Miss Wright," he eventually says; one hand lifting and then falling again, and the other staying up to scratch at his beard. "But in all honesty, how much of a difference can one decent person do against this amount of corruption?"

"Oh, you'd be surprised." Piper chuckles into her mug.. "One person can get a corrupt guard captain kicked out on his ass and give a settlement time to save itself, for one; all by refusing to be ignored. One person can..." She watches the window across from her, and smiles faintly; genuinely, this time. "Restore the Minutemen, bit by bit. Inspire courage and hope in others. Be a true friend to those who need it most. Clear threats from increasingly large patches of the Commonwealth." Pause. "Become a symbol; so much that she's bordering on being a living legend."

Shaun is simply watching her, but now, it's with a more considering look that makes it seem to Piper like he's actually thinking about what he's hearing, rather than merely listening to it.

That, Piper thinks, is at least something. "You have no earthly clue just how amazing she really is," she tells him softy. "As far as I can tell, you don't even care. And that – more than anything – is why it pisses me off that you continue to throw her in over her head, because you give her all of the cane, and none of the carrot. She doesn't deserve that."

He watches her some more, but again, the look changes; now to one that reminds Piper mostly of how Blue looked the very first time she saw her. Uncertain and off-kilter, but doing her utmost to hide it; someone so very clearly in over their head, and trying their darnedest to teach themselves how to swim before the undertow could drag them away. She has to work to pull that expression up in her mind's eye, too, because she got so brief a look at it; back when Blue was nothing more to her than a passing – if intriguing – wastelander who was a useful acquaintance in more ways than one.

She remembers passing on the invitation to her office even as she started composing questions in her head, and then saw neither hair nor hide of the strange woman for well over a week; long enough that she'd given the project up and started working on others, and then... then Blue had walked back in, with her eyes a little harder, her shoulders further back and her chin a little higher.

Weathered, perhaps, by the wasteland and whatever she'd gotten up to in the intervening time. Certainly more used to Commonwealth life, and therefore more confident in her own place in it and in her determination to do what she could to turn things around. And that, Piper remembers, was the moment where her mental description of Blue had changed from 'wastelander' to 'survivor'.

She really needs to ask Blue what the hell happened during that week, now that she thinks about it. For now, though, she takes another mouthful of coffee and hopes that she's managed to drive her points home with Blue's son.

There, but for the grace of God.

"I assure you, Miss Wright, I do care," Shaun sighs, and when he brings up two slightly shaking fingers to pinch the bridge of his nose, Piper finds it in herself to feel some sympathy for him. "It was never my intention to-" Another sigh; longer this time. "I fear that I was of the ill-informed fact that my mother likes a challenge."

"She does," Piper agrees gently. "And she'll happily walk barefooted through hell and back if it helps others, but you need to show her that you appreciate it. Not with titles, or quarters, or shiny new guns. Talk to her. Let her know you."

"This all feels terribly personal and not a little uncomfortable," Shaun admits wryly. "I frankly... well, I wouldn't know how to begin."

That, she supposes, is fair enough. "You could start by inviting her to work with you," Piper muses. "Explain what you're doing and where you're stuck; what – if anything – frustrates you about it, and why. That should be a safe enough starting point, right?"

The fact that it would also work in his favor if Blue's theory about him wanting her high up the Institute's hierarchy is correct, of course, she doesn't mention.

"Hm." Shaun grunts, but the lines of his shoulders also loosen. "I suppose it would. Thank you, Miss Wright. I will... take that under advisement."

"That's all I'm asking." Piper refills her mug from the dispenser, and then retakes her seat in the chair. "Now. You mentioned something about easing my distrust of the Institute?"

"So I did." It's easily visible how much the change of subject relaxes Shaun, from the lessening tension around his eyes right down to the way his fingers clasp loosely in his lap as he leans back into the couch. "I was hoping that by providing you with what information I can on our organization, I could perhaps provide some insight into how we became the-" His lips twitch. "- ''xenophobic fucktards' you know us as."

Piper chuckles, and settles in.