This is a very loose novelization, with regular canon divergence that ensues early on. The messy beginning chapters have been thoroughly edited, but please excuse any errors I miss. Title is based on a lovely song from Bing Crosby by the same name. I hope you enjoy reading!

Preston found Nate sitting under the Sanctuary Hills sign with his head on his knees and a deep frown on his face. He was a kind man, Preston Garvey, kind enough to stick around and offer him a hand. Nate had helped him and the other Quincy survivors out of Concord, and Preston's hovering indicated that he felt he owed Nate.

Nate's help had been reluctant at best. He needed help himself, and if it weren't for Mama Murphy telling him about a distant city where he might find his son then Nate would have left them in Concord. The other survivors knew it in the way they frowned at his back and avoided him at the edge of town. Kind Preston didn't blame him for looking out for himself.

Concord wasn't far from Sanctuary Hills, and Nate hadn't left for long. The vault he recently emerged from, Vault 111, sat unassumingly on the hill overlooking the newcomers. He wanted to go back inside. A setting dread told Nate it wasn't time to go home yet.

Preston offered his comfort and an ear to listen to his troubles. Nate's situation was difficult to explain. Someone had woken him up from a long cryosleep and taken his son, and Nate only hoped to find them in Diamond City. It seemed like he ripped the story from a comic book—Nate was aware of the absurdity, and Preston would have doubted him if he didn't have the vault suit and Pip-Boy to match. He warned Nate that the Commonwealth was a dangerous place for a vault dweller. Nate already knew. He had seen monsters on the way to Concord, but his mind wasn't changed.

Preston didn't try to convince him. He knew Nate's mind was made up. "Keep alive out there," he encouraged instead, and he gave Nate his laser musket as a parting gift.

The open road was harsh for someone like Nate, freshly picked from a vault. He wasn't a stranger to combat, but he felt like he was learning to use a gun for the first time. Nate left with a few supplies that ran out quickly, leaving him to subside on whatever he scrounged. He learned to live in the dirt and take everything not nailed down, surviving out of Sanctuary Hills by the grit of his teeth. His radio picked up on a station from Diamond City, and he listened to Travis when he slept at night, filling his dreams with hope of the great green jewel.

Knowing that he wasn't the only one left alive after the bombs fell was enough for him. Knowing Shaun was out there somewhere was what got him up every morning. Nate was horrified by what the world had become, but his horror felt hollow, as if it belonged to someone else. The way Mama Murphy talked about Diamond City lead him to believe there was hope beyond the wilds up north. Codsworth told him two hundred years had passed while he had slept, and Nate thought two hundred years was more than enough time for civilization to pick itself back up. He got comfortable with his gun, comfortable like he never left his service. He killed his first wasteland monster by a road in Lexington. When he came close, he realized it was just a mutated stag with crazy eyes.

The roads he followed lead to Cambridge, according to his Pip-Boy. Nate found it hard to face a city that was once more than ruins. A skirmish occurred at the city entrance: some raiders were losing a fight against feral, irradiated zombies that looked suspiciously like his old neighbors. Nate skirted them, but the center of Cambridge wasn't in better shape. More zombies (Nate didn't know what else to call them) had overrun the streets, fighting off the last of the raiders. Nate had no way of knowing they were raiders, but he didn't rush in to help them. He had learned quick to keep to himself, as most people in the wasteland wouldn't hesitate to turn their guns on him if they thought they could scavenge anything good from his corpse.

After picking off the raiders, they headed farther into Cambridge. Nate picked out the sound of gunfire. It was loud enough to draw attention for miles, but Nate would have avoided the area if it wasn't in the way. He had to pass by to leave Cambridge and continue on, so he stayed low and tried to sneak by. The noise became nearly deafening the closer Nate got. It sounded like laser weaponry.

Against his own reservations, Nate's curiosity got the better of him. He climbed an adjacent apartment to see into the station, the source of the commotion that had zombies coming in from all over the city. He couldn't see that well, but he recognized their lasers. An idea flashed in his mind of Nate standing up on the fire escape and raining laser terror into the zombie horde, much like Preston had been in Concord when Nate found him.

He abandoned the thought, climbing down to leave, but he was noticed by a couple zombies rounding the corner. His musket was still in his pack, but he was saved by Dogmeat. Nate had picked the dog up at the gas station down the road from Sanctuary Hills, and he kept Dogmeat along so he wouldn't go crazy by himself. Nate considered renaming him, finding 'Dogmeat' to be a vicious and ugly sort of name, but Dogmeat was a vicious sort of dog. He tore down one zombie and distracted the other long enough for Nate to run.

Whoever held the station had no reason not to gun him down. He came in as a last resort, finding all possible exits blocked off by more of the same monsters. Nate shouted to draw their attention as he barreled past the safety cones set up. Once he knew they wouldn't attack him, he turned around and added to their fire. It took Nate some time to become accustomed to Preston's gun, but it wasn't all unlike a Springfield Rifle-Musket, save for the ammunition and the rusty crank. The kick was the same, and it was just as effective at blowing through someone's torso.

It felt like hours, but they were able to clear out the zombies while working together. He noticed someone wearing Power Armor when they were in the thick of it, but he was able to catch a glance as they got their breath back. It truly was Power Armor, and Nate recognized the model: it was a full suit of T-60, the most advanced model Nate knew, and he never saw it during his service. To say he was amazed would be an understatement.

Nate smiled at the ground, bracing against his knees. A momentary vision had flitted in his mind of turning his musket on the armor's fusion core and lighting up the station. He didn't even consider the idea, but it gave him a strange rush of excitement. He was packed tightly with enough adrenaline from clearing out Cambridge.

He heard heavy footsteps above him. "We appreciate the assistance, civilian. But what's your business here?" Nate looked up: as expected, it was the man in T-60.

Nate straightened up on his feet. "Nothing," he answered indifferently.

"Evading my questions is a surefire way of getting yourself ejected from the compound, civilian. I suggest you comply with my questions." Nate deflated immediately. He tried to act cool, but he was nothing compared to this man.

Any compound with Power Armor was a compound he didn't want to be ejected from. Nate explained that he had been on his way to Diamond City when he heard gunfire in this direction. He came to investigate, got caught, and the rest was history.

"Are you a vault dweller?" His next question was surprisingly on point. Nate followed his gaze to his vault suit, realizing then how much he stood out. He would have to ditch the suit and Pip-Boy if he wanted to be inconspicuous.

Nate nodded. A woman on the stairs interrupted them. She had a quick exchange with the man in Power Armor, long enough for Nate to get his thoughts together. Another man was with her, bleeding on the front door. He painfully clutched at his side. Nate might have offered him one of his stimpaks if he wasn't shooting Nate daggers across the mall.

Nate was spoken to again. It was an apology about being so guarded, something about a failed mission. "If you want to continue pitching in, we could use an extra gun on our side."

"Sure," Nate croaked. They weren't out for his blood. That was good enough for him.

Cambridge Police Station was still fairing better than the rest of Cambridge given the circumstances. They set up a decent base with fresh water and a small munition stockpile. Light washed over his face, nearly stunning him after he grew so accustomed to the dark outside. He was nervous about staying here for too long if more zombies were on their way.

They did introductions. "I'm Paladin Danse, Brotherhood of Steel." The woman was Scribe Haylen and the injured man was Knight Rhys. Nate wasn't familiar with the Brotherhood of Steel. He didn't say as much aloud, not wanting to be taken as clueless. Paladin Danse started talking about his mission, but the words came together whenever Nate tried to listen.

He didn't notice when Danse stopped talking. He probably took pity on Nate, inviting him to rest here as thanks for giving them a hand. At Nate's polite decline, Danse instead suggested that Nate leave the station with him if he still wanted to help. He allowed Nate to scrounge around the station for extra supplies.

Knight Rhys was the angriest man Nate had yet to meet. He ducked into another room to avoid the scowling. He rummaged through their cabinets, taking water and spare energy ammo for his musket. Nate almost tripped over Dogmeat on the way out, who he had all but forgotten about. Nate patted his head begrudgingly, said a small "good boy" and trusted Dogmeat to follow.

Paladin Danse was almost comical once Nate confirmed he was set to go. He did an impressive flip with his heavy helmet, flicking it over his head garishly, and he sprouted a loud "Outstanding!" for good measure. Nate almost smiled, almost frowned.

Scribe Haylen caught Danse's elbow at the door. She wished them luck. Nate silently watched, and Haylen sent him a grin. Her expression was open and kind enough to warm him down to his toes.

They exited out the west of Cambridge. Nate lagged behind, clutching his gun and staying low. Paladin Danse trudged through the Commonwealth without the same care. He debriefed Nate over the wind. Nate only caught the end of the debriefing, a mention of a deep range transmitter. Nate's only incentive was having an escort through Cambridge. He didn't want to go out alone after seeing so many zombies in one place.

Their destination was up the hill, ArcJet Systems. Nate recognized the name from back in his day. Danse explained that ArcJet had the contract for the only transmitter strong enough to reach his superiors in Washington. If it weren't so dark Nate would have seen the sitting water over Cambridge, and from there the bridge to Diamond City, but his eyes had yet to adjust from being inside the station.

Another debriefing took place outside ArcJet. Danse spoke sternly. "Listen up. We do this clean and quiet. No heroics and by the book. Understood?"

"Sure," Nate agreed.

He didn't argue, but Danse continued on a short lecture about watching stray bullets. It was fair since Danse's armor took up an entire room. Inside the tiny halls Nate could barely see past Danse. He stayed crouching behind him with Dogmeat at their backs.

ArcJet was mostly destroyed inside. It looked no different than most places Nate wandered into these days, but Danse picked up on subtle cues suggesting they weren't the first to come through here. He grew more impatient after succeeding rooms were the same, warning Nate to be on the lookout for enemies.

Nate started. "Who? Where are they?"

He accidentally interrupted Danse, who was already announcing the room picked clean. "It appears as though the facility's automated security's already been dealt with."

"That's good," Nate thought.

"You're making a foolishly hasty assessment. Look at the evidence. There isn't a single spent ammunition casing or a drop of blood in sight." Nate frowned, unsure of what that meant. He looked around and found Danse was correct. There were several damaged Protectrons but no evidence of their perpetrators.

"Was it you?" Nate eyed Danse's energy weapons and his bulky, protective gear.

"Unfortunately, no," he sighed. "These robots were assaulted by Institute synths." Nate agreed, choosing not to ask on the same principle as before. He didn't want to seem clueless. He assumed it was a gang, Institute Synths, perhaps enemies with the Brotherhood of Steel. These names sounded ridiculous to Nate.

They folded into a larger room. The engine room, Danse called out, and Nate realized where he heard the name ArcJet from. The engine above them, the XMB booster engine, was a nuclear-powered rocket. Nate remembered watching a press conference on TV about it. Nate wasn't a rocket scientist, but he thought it was pretty cool.

The staircase lead off at the top, preventing them from continuing, and the elevator was out of power. Danse trekked to the bottom of the stairs. "See if you can find any way to get that elevator running. I'm going to reconnoiter the area." Nate briefly looked around but he just saw ash and dust particles, nothing left to reconnoiter. Nate wouldn't get in Danse's way.

The elevator wasn't powered because the entire facility was out of power. Nate snooped around the side room. The generator was in the back, as was a heap of garbage and a holotape, but Nate didn't glance twice once he saw the generator. It was connected to an old terminal. Nate wasn't good with computers, never had been, so it took him a while to start the power up again.

He turned away to report his success to Danse when he finally noticed the swarm of enemies that descended from upstairs. The side room was sanctioned off with a tall glass wall for viewing the rocket, but beyond the glass Nate only saw lasers and smoke. He couldn't see Danse, as hulking a figure he was in Power Armor, and he assumed Institute Synths had gotten to him.

Power had been distributed across the entire facility, including the giant rocket engine. Nate realized he was standing directly by a large control panel. If he was discovered, he would surely be dead, and that made Nate's decision. He flicked the giant switch on the wall. The doors sealed behind Dogmeat, and they both watched the engine heat up and ascend a slow countdown. After the initial explosion of the rocket engine, a second explosion followed, that being from the Power Armor's fusion core.

Nate held his breath. The engine room was long and empty, and he saw nothing outside that survived the blast. His eyes burned from watching the engine head-on. Nate might still survive this trip, but he couldn't say the same for Danse.

He found Paladin Danse buried under other bodies. Unfortunately, his Power Armor was unsalvageable. The frame was torched and each discarded piece of T-60 Nate found was glued together. Institute Synths weren't a brand of raiders like Nate assumed, but strange men with wires pouring from their stomachs. The bodies with the best faces were hollow past their skulls. Danse was in two, indistinguishable apart from his armor.

"These are… robots?" Nate was to blame for not asking when he had the chance. Preston mentioned nothing about evil robots roaming the Commonwealth.

The sun was rising when he and Dogmeat emerged outside. It felt like minutes had passed, not hours, but Nate couldn't argue with the morning. Now he could clearly see the bridge on the water, and beyond it, the promise of Diamond City.

He sat near a dying grove with a hand on his brow. "Look out there, boy," he cooed quietly. The sun danced on the water delightfully. After all this time, the world was still pretty, but it was probably his good mood that saw things rose-tinted. "So that's it. Cross the bridge, and then…" His Pip-Boy confirmed that they were close to Boston.

Nate dug into his pack and brought out some Pork n' Beans. They just returned from a gruesome adventure, but Nate wanted breakfast before he headed on after Shaun. He wondered what they'd find there. His son, hopefully, but he had great expectations for however civilization had carried on. He was almost frightened that he was told a lie, that Boston would be empty once they arrived.

"Guess we'll see soon," he muttered. "I'm coming, Shaun."