The greater Boston area was full of things that wanted to kill him. The biggest difference was most of the things could, and didn't sit rotting behind bars.

Nick spend many weeks traveling, hoping and searching for something that even remotely resembled the reality that now seemed like was a dream. Life as a synthetic mancwas hitting him hard, harder then being slammed into a brick building by a super mutant while trying to escape a horde of ghouls.

The ghouls looked like the raisin corpses that lay with the skeletons dotting the area, except they walked. And screamed. When they screamed it sent simulated chills down his metal spine. They also had a particular taste for human flesh and stripped it clean off the bone. Nick wasn't sure why they even chased him. Far as he was concerned he looked like one of them and definitely wasn't human.

Nick was sitting on the highest floor in the tallest building he could find. He had been for days. He didn't need to eat, drink or sleep. He did have the ability to do so but found it pointless.

He relived the memories that belonged to Nick Valentine. His career, his Jenny, they weren't his. None of it. With this realization came deep pain and a feeling of worthlessness. He was an impostor, not even a human one. He was just a soulless shell that existed because some twisted self proclaimed genius wanted to play god.

The worse part of it was that he knew he really wasn't Nick Valentine.

Nick got up and walked to the edge. He could see much of the Boston area. Little fires from various encampments twinkled in the darkness. The buildings loomed like dark twisted shadows but were also the greatest form of shelter. Nick looked down at the ground miles below him.

The sun was beginning to climb above the horizon.

"Hello there, Mister."

Nick whirled around at the sound of the voice. A young boy peaked from behind an overturned desk. The boy gasped when he saw Nick's yellow eyes.

"You shouldn't be up here. Go home." Nick snapped.

"I'm not afraid of you." He said. "My name is Jim. What's yours?"

"I don't have a name."

" Nice to meet you Mr. I don't have a name."

Nick fought back any bit of hope that another human might accept him.

"Why do your eyes glow?"

"I'm a ghoul." Nick said. It would literally be a better explanation then he woke up a metal man one day.

"No you're not. You're a Synth."

"A Synth?"

"Yeah Mister. A robot the Institute built. You know, the Institute? You don't know your own parents?"

"Parents?" Nick barely was able to breath at the idea. He didn't consider who else the Institute might of done this too.

"I've never met one that didn't sound- like a robot." The boy mimicked a robotic voice.

"Jim! Jim are you up there?!" A hoarse voice carried from several stories down.

"That's my dad." Jim said.

Nick's hand dropped to his revolver as the footfalls grew closer.

When Jim's father reached the top of the stairs he immediately pointed his weapon at Nick.

"That's a fancy piece you got there." Nick said calmly.

"And it'll blow your head off soon as I fancy it too."

"Don't shoot father he's a nice robot. Can I keep him?"

Jim's father looked annoyed. He would just as soon shoot the murdering piece of metal and shove it over the side.

"No son, you can't keep him."

Nick and Johnathan looked each other squarely in the eyes.

"Look Mister, I would just as soon jump over the side and save you the trouble." Nick said.

"Why? What's your name?" John asked.

"Name's Nick Valentine."

"Nick." John laughed." You're sure it's Nick and not a number?"

Nick tucked his chin and glared at John.

"I've heard about you, wandering around this area. Except they said you're a ghoul with glowing eyes."

"I'm no ghoul." He replied.

"Jim let's go."

"But dad he's nice."

"Synths are murders, son. Institute hitmen."

Nick sharply turned his head. " Hitman? What happened?"

Don't kid around! You know last year at the first Commonwealth Provisional Government meeting the Institute sent its own representative who killed everyone there!"

"What year it is?" Nick demanded.

"2230."

Nick couldn't believe it. It had been almost 200 years since the bombs dropped. He stood frozen for several moments. Everyone and everything he knew had been long gone for centuries.

"He looks sad." Jim said.

John's hostile expression melted a bit.

"You're definitely a mystery, uh, Nick was it?" John said.

"Yes. I'm pre-war, or at least my memories." Nick answered quietly.

"Pre-war? You must have a lot of interesting stories. We live in a settlement nearby, join us if you're interested."

"I'm sure some you would all love to take in the synth and ogle the walking toaster huh?" Nick said with humor.

"Don't hide who you are and I'm sure you'll find us to be different."

Nick hesitated then took off his fedora, scarf and gloves.

"Fair enough."

"My friend's dad is a mechanic, maybe he could patch you up." Jim said.

"You're welcome anytime."

" I'd just as soon leave with you all so I don't get shot on sight." Nick replied.

"Oh, right. Good idea."

Nick followed John down the stairs. They met the rest of the search party at the bottom.

"Hold your fire, the synth's with me."

"Nick! Meet my uncles and aunts!" Jim exclaimed.

"Quiet down Jim it's not safe here." An older women scolded.

The settlement wasn't far. It was completely enclosed by pre-war buildings and junk fences walling off the square. One four way intersection was now an entire town. They had a makeshift hospital, a school, a bar, a crafting space and a trading post which living spaces were build on top of. In the middle of the square was a giant garden with corn, tomatoes, carrots, razor grain and mutfruit trees. Water purifiers were tucked in between the shops. Nick was happy to see the wasteland hadn't turned all humans into raider or super mutant savages, and that they were surviving.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at Nick as John lead him over to the shop.

"Tom?" Johnathon called.

"Over here John."

Tom got up from a weapons bench he was working on.

"Fascinating." He said.

Nick had already noticed the generation 1 synth head sitting on a nearby table.

"Tom here can fix about anything, including synths."

"Well my knee is a little crooked."

"I will take a look at that no problem."

"Do you eat food?" Jim asked.

"No I don't really need to."

"Go help your mother with dinner Jim."

"I need to prepare the poem Tom you help Nick."

John turned and climbed the stairs to the upper story."

"So you're name is Nick?"

"Yes Nick Valentine."

"Valentine, ha. I bet you're not very popular with the ladies anymore!" Tom chuckled and slapped Nick's arm.

"Not with this sick ghoul look I've got going. I'm pre-war."

Tom's eyes widened in disbelief.

"Least the real Nick Valentine is."

"They copied you off of someone else huh. Never met one like you but I wouldn't put it past the Institute."

"What do you know about the Institute?"

"No one know much about them other then they makes these synths and they are not to be trifled with. Recently all the leaders of the larger settlements tried to start a Commonwealth Provisional Government and they all sent representatives to hash out some kind of leadership. The Institute sent a representative of their own, a synth. Killed everyone there."

"Why?"

"No one was left alive to tell the story. The institute doesn't look kindly on us common folk. If I were to take a guess they didn't want this government to exist."

"No kidding."

"Nope."

"Well you don't have to worry about me. They threw me out with the trash."

"I can see that. Let me take a look at that knee. Maybe we can get it fixed up before supper."

Nick sat on a chair and Tom examined his knee.

"What? No trash pile could of done this to you."

"A super mutant may have swung me into a wall. Though I would sooner hate to admit it."

"Well your eye looks a little out of place too. Oh and you're arm is gonna need some new framework. Damn. You sure were lucky. I can bend these back into place and you should be good as new."

"As new?"

"Well, you know, as possible."

Nick could smell the soup. Everything in it in fact. He thought he felt the sensation of stomach rumbling.

"There we go. Try walking on that."

Nick stood up and walked a few paces away and back.

"That does feel better then before."

"Of course. Any time. Tomorrow hopefully we can scavenge them parts for your arm."

"Why are you helping me?"

"It's the code."

"What code?"

"You'll see. Join us around the fire for supper."

All 21 settlers crowded around the cooking fire. John took a worn piece of paper out of his pocket and began to read.

"To earth, sea, and sky our respect." The other settlers repeated the phrase.

"To all things of those dear be our respect." He continued.

"To the one who gave us gifts that were oh so shamelessly destroyed, our payment shall live vicarious through things living and dead. If one is kind kindness shall be. May the children see not judgement."

The settlers also repeated the last phrase of the poem then began to eat.

Nick sat thinking about the poem. He had loved reading older texts such as Shakespeare, Poe, and Shelly, but had never heard this one.

"Who wrote the poem?" Nick asked no one in particular.

"No one knows for sure. But we think it's a good code to live by." An older women answered.

"It teaches us to be responsible and kind." Jim chirped.

Nick's glowing yellow eyes might of gone a shade darker as he wondered what he might of done to deserve his fate. At this point he was desperate to consider anything, but never less extremely grateful for the kindness even if it was commanded.

After dinner a scavenging party left and most of the settlers went to the bar or up in their residence. Nick sat on the bench near the dwindling fire. The settlers all cast watchful glances his way every so often.

Jim ran up to Nick and sat down next to him.

"Do you have any adventure stories? I love stories."

"Well, one time there was the big bad crime boss who thought he could get away with all his terrible crimes. "

"Before the war?"

"Yes."

"No wonder we live how we do. It's the judgement." Jim said.

"From the poem?"

"Yeah what else?"

Nick sighed.

"What happened to this big bad crime boss?" Jim asked excitedly.

"Well soon he did enough bad stuff the police decided to make a task force dedicated to bring him down?"

"Like did they go and raid his camp and kill him and all the other bad guys?"

"Well no. Before the war the police had to gather evidence and prove that they had done bad things."

"But-" "Time for bed." Jim was interrupted by his father.

"Oh okay." Jim said as he slid off the bench and dragged his feet to the stairs.

"You will be here tomorrow, right Mr. Valentine?"

"He sure is welcomed too." John said.

Nick almost smiled and he felt a warm sensation in his chest.

" I'll be here." Nick said.

Jim smiled then climbed up the ladder.

"I'm sorry Mr Valentine but the boy gets attached a little too quick."

"So do I. I'm just grateful for your hospitality. Ive been wandering the wasteland and it seems like everyone and everything is just out to get you."