War never changes.
That is something you learn when you've been alive for two hundred years. From the fake prosperity and privilege of the Old World and the dirty, primitive and brutal survivalist, dog-eat-dog nature of the New World. Nothing changes. The people look different, sound different and their names are different. But their nature remains the same.
As does war. War turned the Commonwealth, turned America, into the toxic wasteland the descendants of his generation dwelled in. It was brutal, harsh and uncompromising. It was a new reality.
It was no place to raise a son.
Nate pondered this as he stared out at the ocean. It was a calm night, and the moon was hidden behind dark clouds. He could hear the waves softly lap against the sandy shore around the Castle, and if it weren't for the creaking sounds of wrecked boats scattered across Boston harbour and the distant clattering of Minutemen within the Castle itself, if he closed his eyes he could dream of being in the Old World.
It would be warm. Summer time. Somewhere warm enough to relax in trunks but cool enough not to bake in the heat. Florida maybe? Nora had mentioned cousins down there at some point, some she'd never met due to the war. They'd take Shaun there, add the lost relatives to the family and go to the beach.
Codsworth would hover nearby, catering drinks and food. It would be ice cold Nuka Cola, maybe a few beers, fresh from the cooler. It would be good food. Snacks and treats and untouched by radiation and time.
Nora would be there. She would smile, her eyes would be open and alive. Her hair would brush lightly in the breeze and he'd stare into those warm brown eyes of hers until he drowned in them.
"General?"
The dream faded. His desperate grip on the past slipped and he was brought back to the New World.
"Yes Preston?" Nate asked, turning to the man he'd tentatively called friend. Preston was too idealistic in Nate's opinion. He'd been through a lot, but he hadn't hardened himself like a soldier would. No soldier would just hand over control over his people, his unit, his nation, to a stranger just because they could handle a gun well.
'In the Old World they wouldn't.' he reminded himself, forcing a smile to ease Preston, who'd stiffened and looked slightly nervous.
"We've received word from the new settlement at Jamaica Plain. They were attacked by raiders but the defences we've set up there helped see them off. However there are a lot of wounded settlers and they need medicine."
"You want me to take some medicine there?" Nate asked and Preston nodded.
"Ronnie Shaw is putting together a caravan. She's asked if you could lead the escort."
"Fine. Give me five minutes to get ready." Nate said, gesturing to his flannel shirt and jeans. "I'm not exactly ready for combat right now."
"Yes sir." Preston chuckled, quickly striding away from the broken walls towards the 'entrance' to the Castle, where a large band of Minutemen were gathering. Some of the settlers that had been brought in to tend to the crops growing outside the Castle and the vendors that had set up shop there watched from the small shacks and the entrances to the barracks that had been built inside the Castle's walls, curious at the sudden movement.
A small child, around Shaun's age if what he'd seen in the Memory Den was correct, ran out from the crowd, handing a Hubflower to one of the Minutemen, who grinned and tucked the flower into a small pocket in their leather armour, leaning down to ruffle the kids head.
Nate shook his head, remembering a different time where civilians would throw flowers from the side of the streets at parading soldiers and mountainous men in power armour.
War never changes.
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The caravan set off soon after. Four Brahmin laden with medicine and other supplies as well as a dozen Minutemen led by the General himself.
Nate ignored some of the awed looks he was being given. Thanks to Piper and her newspaper, he had more than one epithet, with many addressing him as either 'General' or 'The Vault Dweller' or 'Man out of Time'. He particularly despised 'The Sole Survivor'. As if he needed to be reminded of the tragedy that brought him into this new world, that took away his wife and son. It was also incorrect. Shaun was alive. He was the other survivor of Vault 111. His son lived.
He had to.
So he ignored the awe of the men and women he led and strode ahead of the Brahmin as he made his way towards Jamaica Plain.
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Jamaica Plain had been a pain in the ass to clear out and had been a mix of strategic and tactical thinking. It had taken two dozen Minutemen, his Power Armour salvaged from the top of the Museum of Freedom and a healthy dose of nearly a thousand rounds of varying ammunition to clear out the Feral Ghouls that dwelled there. Small packs still haunted the fringes of the town, but they were gradually being picked off as the newly established settlement there gradually learned its bearings.
Strategically, Jamaica Plain allowed the Minutemen to box in the Gunners by threatening the supply lines between Gunner Plaza and Quincy. Tactically, it brought Nate one step closer to the edge of the Glowing Sea, even if he still hadn't found enough RadAway to warrant an expedition there in search of Virgil, the Institute defector who would tell him how to find his son.
Nate's hand tightened around his drawn weapon until his skin was taut and pale. Every step forward threw a new hurdle in his face, and even if he did manage to find Shaun-what then? How did he raise a boy who had no idea who he was in the god forsaken wasteland that was…the wasteland.
Sure the Minutemen provided stability and safety to some areas, but how long would that last for? The Minutemen had all but fallen in the years before Nate had been released from Vault 111, and what was to say it wouldn't happen again? At its core, the organisation remained the same, a volunteer force for idealistic good that relied on scattered settlements with easily severable supply lines. It was like watching a train crash in slow motion.
Things would have to change. He would have to reform it. Change something. If Shaun was to live as safe a life as he could get in this hellhole then the Minutemen needed to be around to subdue raiders and keep settlements safe. It needed to last longer than Nate did.
Mind whirling with ideas, Nate didn't notice as the caravan approached Jamaica Plain.
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Two days later Nate set out alone from Jamaica Plain, leaving instructions to the returning caravan to inform Preston he'd be attending business for a week or so and that Ronnie Shaw would be in command until his return.
With his words said and orders set, Nate had set out through irradiated wasteland and junk filled ruins of what had once been Boston, the journey surprisingly eventless due to the increased presence of the Minutemen making monsters, raiders and everything in between more wary and less bold than they had been in the days and weeks after Nate had been set free from the icy tomb that was Vault 111.
Three days of travelling led him to his destination. East Boston, RobCo Sales & Service Centre, a ruined, plundered wreck on the outside and the lair to a former evil on the inside.
Prior to the war it had been home to a secret Robotics Division for the US Army. Not too long ago it was known as the Mechanist's Lair. Now Nate just calls it Isabel's Workshop. Apart from the robots she had since built to defend the place and keep it going, she was the only one who lived there.
Except from Sparks of course.
Nate felt a small smile spread across his face as the little eyebot zoomed towards him, beeping excitedly and whirring around him like a bird. Nate slung his combat rifle around his shoulder and petted the robot on its carapace, causing an excited barrage of beeps and squeaks.
"Scanning. Recognised. Welcome home: Nate." Intoned the Sentry Bot that loomed at the double doors leading to the nerve centre of the underground facility. Its treads rolled and the steel behemoth moved out of the way.
"Thanks." Nate said politely, experience having taught him that Isabel would have likely given the bot a personality, and that it would take offence if he was rude to it.
"No. Problem." The Sentry Bot replied, rolling back into its standard position with a whir after Nate had walked past and into the productive factory that was Isabel's workshop.
Robots creaked, stomped or rolled this way or that way. Except for a few guard bots like the sentry he'd walked past or other units with similarly specific and necessary jobs such as heavy lifting, the bots were skeletal and barebones at best. Resources were short, especially considering the fact there hadn't been a functioning mine or factory in two hundred years.
"Mr Nate!" Isabel yelled, running over from the ramp leading to the Robobrains and the computers hundreds of years old but running as smooth as silk. "What are you doing here?"
The question would've been an insulting one if Nate didn't know better. Isabel meant well, but her people's skills could use an upgrade as good as some of the stuff she gives to her robots.
"Just dropping by kiddo. Wanted to run a few things by you." He replied, strolling over to the girl and making a show of unstrapping his pistol and holster, tossing it on a nearby desk. He did the same to his combat rifle. He and the kid were on good terms now, but their first meeting hadn't been the best.
"What about? I was working on this super cool upgrade for the Junkbots." Isabel exclaimed happily, turning back round and gesturing for him to follow. "It's super neat and cheap as well. I can reduce their weight and increase their mobility using iron alloy joints instead of steel ones."
"Wouldn't that make them weaker?" Nate asked, only half-interested. Engineering was always something he thought was cool and had said to himself he'd look into, but the moment he saw numbers and maths and whatnot his brain shut down, leaving his knowledge barebones at best. Combat was where he thrived, as much as he hated to acknowledge the fact.
"Yeah but Junkbots aren't being used in a combat capacity so it doesn't matter." Isabel answered, giving him a blatantly pointed look. "I'm only using them to scavenge around the base since someone cleared it out for me."
"You're welcome." Nate retorted, rolling his eyes but understanding why Isabel was so adamant about her robots, bar the few he had convinced her to let defend the place, be armed and capable for combat.
"I already thanked you for that!" Isabel snapped, though it was without anger. "You're just like my mom. You're welcome Isabel, it's not like I spent nine months carrying you and nearly half a day giving birth to you! "
Nate snorted at the mimicry of Isabel's usually unspoken mother. It sounded like something his Ma would've said back in the day if he was being a brat, which was usually the case.
The sounds of their feet and whirring of whatever motors kept Sparks flying filled the dimly lit corridor as they made their way towards the storage room which also contained Isabel's robot workshop. The smell of grease filled the air the moment he walked in and Nate smiled at it, preferring the natural smell of the workshop to the sterile staleness of the Robobrains' computer room.
A Junkbot stood, silent and still in the centre of the circular workbench. Nate stared curiously as Isabel went straight to work, tapping away at her terminal to guide big metal arms into disassembling the Junkbot. Sparks made a nervous sound so Nate rubbed the little ball of steel's head, making the little bot fall silent and hopefully content after a few moments.
"Don't worry Sparks." Isabel said, not looking up from her work. "Junkie 64 can't feel a thing, and he'll feel a hell of a lot better after this. Trust me."
Sparks bleeped in the affirmative. Nate watched on silently.
After a few minutes, the work had been done and the Junkbot reassembled into one piece. To Nate, nothing had changed, but when Isabel turned around with a proud look he smiled and gave her a small round of applause.
"Great work kiddo." He said, desperately thinking of something complimentary. "Iron's easier to access than steel anyway, so it makes sense in the long run to have the worker bots use it whilst saving the steel for the defender bots."
"Is it?" Isabel asked, cocking her head to the side curiously.
"Yeah. I think." Nate replied, scratching his head whilst he tried remembering a small smattering of Pre-War knowledge. "Iron, you just dig up and smelt. Steel is made from Iron and carbon smelting together at super hot temperatures. Unless Saugus Ironworks up near Finch Farm can be secured then steel will be a no go."
"Huh. The more you know." Isabel murmured, turning to face the Junkbot, who was slowly plodding forward at a marginally faster rate than the others outside.
"He's still getting used to his new upgrades." Isabel said when faced with Nate's raised eyebrow. "Isn't that right Junkie 64?"
"You have 64 of these things? How the hell do you know which is which?" Nate blurted, realising his mistake when Isabel whirled around and glared at him.
"Firstly, he is a he, not a thing or an it!" Isabel said pointedly, and the Junkbot bleeped in agreement. "Secondly I keep track of them by the numbers I paint on them. I'd give them even more personality via paint except someone insisted all the Sentry Bots and knockoff Major Gutsy's he made me make were all painted green like the so called 'good old days'. Thirdly, I have about one hundred and eleven Junkbots like Junkie 64."
Nate stopped hearing her after 111.
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His chest ached. His everything ached. He was cold.
There was noise. Lights. Everything was confusing.
He could remember the bomb. He felt a pang of guilt at the thought of Codsworth, who'd be nothing but charred scrap now. They shouldn't have left him behind, but Shaun and Nora came first.
What was going on? Two figures stood in front of his pod thing. Neither looked like Vault Tec. The lab coat and masked one on the right might've, but her companion wore leather with metal armour and had the rough aura of the sort of people Nate had been glad had been in the frontlines alongside him rather than let loose on the civilians back home at Anchorage.
"This is the one here."
"Open it."
The pod hissed. He heard Nora. Heard Shaun. Shaun was crying. Nora gasping for breath.
"Is it safe? Is it over?" Nora gasped, blinking dazedly. She couldn't see, just like how his vision was blurred, except she couldn't rub her eyes because of Shaun in her arms.
"Give us the boy. Now." The bald man said, raising a gun. "I'm only gonna tell you once."
"I'm not giving you Shaun! Nate! Help us!" Nora yelled, her brown eyes, so warm and loving, suddenly clear as the sky on a sunny day as she stared into his own. They were filled with fear, with desperation, with hope he'd save her. Save their son.
There was an echoing bang, and instead of the love and warmth her eyes were dead and cold.
"At least we still have the back-up." The bald man taunted, before leaving him behind in the icebox as his wife's body stared accusingly at him from across the ice.
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"N-Nate?"
His name. Nate.
He blinked. Isabel was in front of him, staring at him with blatant fear. Sparks was trilling nervously and floating away from him slowly.
He blinked again and slowly unclenched his hands that had been curled into shaking fists.
"Sorry." Nate swallowed, throat suddenly dry. "You were saying something?"
"N-Nope! Nothing at all!" Isabel replied, smiling a fake smile and injecting her voice with fake cheer. "Just asking why you visited is all."
"I wanted…" Nate blinked again. His head hurt, a headache building in the temples. "Just to check up on you."
"You said you wanted to run something by me." Isabel replied, fear replaced by worry. Nate blinked and shook his head, rubbing his eyes to try and get rid of the cobwebs in his mind. Focus soldier.
"Yeah…I did…" He trailed off, trying to remember. "Sorry I-Oh wait! I remember! I was wondering if you could look into replicating the assembly lines but on a smaller scale."
"What?" Isabel asked, fear now replaced by curiosity. "Why?"
"The Minutemen are finally back on their feet. Dozens of settlements are safe and protected." Nate told her, smiling with pride at the work he and dozens of others had done. "Problem is refugees and immigrants are coming in from all over now that there's some stability back in those areas of the Commonwealth. Work is drying up real fast. I was thinking we could train up some engineers, build some small-scale factories to get industry up and running again."
"Sounds good on face value." Isabel murmured, hand on chin in thought. "How would we get resources though? How would we transport them where they need to be?"
"Let me worry about that." Nate replied, waving his hand to assuage her worry. "I just need you to build the skeleton, the blueprint of the assembly lines. Can you do that?"
"Of course I can." Isabel scoffed. "I just don't know if I want to. Industry helped destroy the Commonwealth in the first place."
"Industry didn't. Corruption and the wrong people in positions of power did." Nate paused. "Do you not trust me to make the same mistakes?"
"No! I mean yes? I-I do trust you! But what about everyone else? What about the people who'll come after us? There's so much that could go wrong." Isabel protested, and Nate stepped forward, putting a hand on her shoulder and squeezing it lightly to reassure her.
"We can draft laws. We can train our successors. If you really want you can even develop some sort of kill switch which could shut everything down if it was used for the wrong purpose." Nate told her gently. "If we shunned progress out of fear we would be dooming our descendants just because we were too scared to trust them."
"I-I already tried to do good." Isabel said quietly, swallowing with bottled emotions. "I wanted to protect people. To make them safe. I didn't. Innocents…they died. Because of me."
"And you won't make that mistake ever again. You didn't know, couldn't control what happened." Nate replied reassuringly.
"And what if I'm making that same mistake again?" Isabel retorted sharply. "What if you are?"
Nate blinked at the sharpness and borderline hostility in her tone. He slowly retracted his hand, holding both in surrender.
"If you don't want to, you don't have to. Just think about it. Please." He said, and Isabel turned to glare at the wall.
"I will. Is there anything else you want?" She asked sharply, and Nate shook his head sadly.
"Just stay safe kiddo." He told her, and she scoffed before turning around to tinker with her robot workbench. Sparks let out a keening whine. Nate sighed and left, running a hand through his tousled hair as he did so.
He made his way through the endless clattering of Robobrains at computers and down the ramp into the stomping chaos of Isabel's robotic kingdoms denizens. He reattached his weapons and turned to leave, pausing for a moment before rooting through his bag and gently placing a wrapped parcel on the space where his guns had rested.
Then he left Isabel's workshop and ascended back up to the surface.
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"Is he gone?"
Sparks beeped sadly, nudging her arm whilst he did so.
"Don't try and pull that with me, mister! You know I made some good points!"
Sparks buzzed and let out a series of short beeps, making her roll her eyes.
"Yes it can do good but we thought the same thing when I tried being the Mechanist. I won't make that same mistake again."
Another series of beeps.
"Sparks it doesn't matter whether or not I could have been nicer. I was barely even rude. He was pushing my boundaries!"
Sparks let a shrill, clearly condescending beep before turning around hovering away, buzzing angrily to make sure she knew she'd upset him.
Isabel sighed, tossing away the grease stained rags she had been using to clean a stained glass optic found by one of her scavenging Junkbots the other day. Even the menial enjoyment of basic tasks didn't bring her any joy now, having upset the two, and only, most important people in her life.
Sparks was her first robot. Her constant companion. Her brother from another mother, her bestie, her friend from another element, her buddy. He had been with her from the moment she'd found the secret goldmine of tech underneath the RobCo Sales & Service Centre to the moment she'd stepped down the disastrous path of becoming the Mechanist, the self proclaimed 'saviour' of the Commonwealth.
She'd seen the numbers. Despite Nate trying to hide them from her, she'd managed to see when helping upgrade Ada's software. Butcher was a more accurate title for her than saviour ever could be.
Nate…was complicated. He was a stone cold killing machine who had battled his way through layers of robotic security to stop the threat she'd posed and help his own robotic companion avenge her lost friends. Then he'd convinced her to step down, helped hunt down what remained of her rogue robots and let her live in peace despite all she had done and the threat he posed.
He was stubborn, obstinate, caring, ruthless and above all loving. His every action towards her was affectionate, to the point he was kind to the robots whenever visiting because he knew she saw them as beings rather than things and it upset her to see otherwise.
She didn't know how to describe her feelings towards him. Sparks was easy. He was her brother, her best friend. She trusted him above all else.
She trusted Nate too. Trusted he would keep her safe. Trusted that even if the worst did happen to her then he'd hunt down whoever had done it and make them regret it. She loved him too. Not romantically, but not the boundless trust and camaraderie she had with Sparks.
He was…fatherly. She loved him like the father she never had the opportunity to have, her own being killed by Raiders long before she'd been born. He loved her like the child who had been stolen from him. It was weird. It was complicated and messy and all the other reasons why she shunned her fellow humans in favour of steel robots.
Nate was an exception she supposed. Despite all the characteristics he shared with the rest of humanity, his ruthlessness and capacity for violence, at his core he was a good man.
Or was he?
She didn't think he was a bad person. He'd spared her afterall. He'd rebuilt the Minutemen for the good of everyone, bringing a sense of safety and stability to the Commonwealth that had long been missing. He was definitely a good person. But was he at his core?
Or was he something else? Was he something that tensed at the mere mention of a number? Who could drown in dark memories and what ifs? A person who pushed himself in every way, shape and form because if he stopped and thought for a single moment he'd fall apart?
What if at his core, Nate, the man she loved as a father, was a broken man?
The question frightened her, because Isabel had no idea what to do if that idea, if she, was right.
With another sigh she plodded through the Robobrains nerve centre, where they did their best to track down the few remaining units of her rogue robots and search for new materials, and headed down the ramp, hoping that spending time with her robots would ease her worries.
A small parcel lay where Nate had left his weapons earlier, which were as conspicuously gone as their owner. She made her way over to it, shaking it and tentatively unwrapping it. She didn't think it would be something bad, but at the same time she was a cynic at heart, and part of her feared Nate had finally gotten bored of her and was finishing the job he'd left unfinished by sparing her.
Instead of a bomb, a small plastic figure slipped into her hands after she unwrapped the parcel. It was pristine, like it was brand new from the factory shelf. It was a Mister Handy figurine, the last part of the collection she had been building in her spare times. Unlike the others, it seemed untouched by time and grime, and she felt a wave of emotion at an image supplied by her mind's eye: Nate late at night, scrubbing away gently at the toy in order to make it a pristine gift.
Isabel swallowed, choked at the thought. It was one thing to just fetch something. Cleaning it? Trying to make it perfect? That suggested care. That Nate cared about her.
And damn her for a fool but she cared too.
"Sparks!" Isabel shouted suddenly, reverently wrapping the Mister Handy back in the cloth it had been wrapped in to prevent it getting dirty. "Start getting me some algorithms for the assembly lines! I'll go get my pencil and some paper and start planning it out."
Sparks beeped happily in the distance, and Isabel sighed again, eyeing the packaged gift once more.
Life would've been so much simpler if it was just a bomb.
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Time passed quickly in the Commonwealth. People died, the wrecks of a completely different world rotted around him, his mood became darker and darker and tensions grew without ever spilling over into anything else. Jamaica Plain held out, bolstered by an increased flow of supplies Nate insisted was sent there. He intended to pacify the region and put some pressure on the Gunner's, who had used their control over the ruined highways to attack Minutemen caravans up near Sanctuary Hills.
Piper had come down to visit, eager to get first-hand experience of the 'war' between the Minutemen and the Gunners. He didn't mind much, and enjoyed her company, often spending his evenings just talking and drinking with her. But he always felt uncomfortable around her, especially after she'd seen him so vulnerable after the Memory Den.
Not to mention how eerily similar she looked to Nora. Was she a descendant of hers? Part of Nora's distant Florida family that had somehow survived and moved north since the nukes flew and the world ended?
He didn't know. Didn't want to know.
She noticed as well. It hurt her, that much was clear, and that only made his guilt grow.
But he'd never been good with these things. Hell, the only reason he and Nora ended up being a thing was because she got tired of his idiocy and had proven his fears of rejection wrong by locking him in a room and…
Well, let's just say there was a reason Shaun was born not long after they married.
But Nora wasn't here and for all Piper looked like her, she wasn't actually Nora.
So Nate buried himself in work and pretended like nothing was wrong.
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"You're an idiot."
Nate blinked and looked up. A ruined, dirty face and amber eyes looked back at him.
"Nice to see you, Nick." Nate replied, leaning back in his seat, back aching after being sat pouring over reports for so long. The Minutemen had only just recently established their Records Administration Division, and now he had a constant flow of written reports from their outposts across the Commonwealth. Some were menial, some not, but all were equally important.
"Well it would be nice to see you too on occasion." The synth retorted dryly. "Escept you haven't visited in months and you've buried yourself in work. Ellie thought you'd died after a rumour spread in Diamond City of a Ghoul finally doing you in at Jamaica Plain."
"Rumours of my death have been greatly exaggerated." Nate replied and the detective snorted.
"Clearly, but I'm starting to wonder if that's really the case since you act as if you're going to die."
"Excuse me?" Nate demanded, nostrils flaring and eyes narrowing.
"You heard me." Nick snapped. "You've been setting up structure inside the Minutemen, made it clear Ronnie Shaw was your successor, pushed away your friends and hidden yourself away in this office of yours for weeks. Do you even know why Piper went all the way to Jamaica Plain?"
"To report on the conflict with the Gunners." Nate replied slowly, unsure of what was happening.
"If she wanted to do that she'd go where the conflict was happening." Nick retorted, a frustrated look somehow conveyed on his plastic face. "Those rumours about your death? They scared her. She ran off to Jamaica Plain to see if you were okay."
Nate looked at the worn wood of his desk, guilt and shame rising. Now he knew where the conversation was going, what was happening.
"What do you do when she gets there? You act like everything's a-okay then for whatever reason ignore her until she comes back to Diamond City feeling like she's done something to piss you off. Did she? Did she do anything?"
"No." Nate answered quietly, and he heard Nick stand suddenly and plant his hands on the desk.
"Then tell me what the hell is going on with you Nate or so help my I will get Isabel Cruz, Cait and Hancock and we'll have a nice little intervention for you."
"How-?"
"I was a detective dumbass. I know about your friends and I've been doing a better job than you at keeping wronged parties off of Isabel Cruz's trail. Or should I say the Mechanists?"
"You threaten her and I'll scrap you for spare parts!" Nate warned, standing and glaring at the synth who gave him an unimpressed look.
"Good to see you care about someone at least." Nick replied, and Nate looked away, guilt practically drowning him. "I just said I was helping her. Let me help you ya dumb, fleshy moron."
Nate sighed and slumped back down onto his seat. Nick did the same, and the two sat in silence until Nate managed to muster the strength to look Nick in the eyes.
"Sorry for what I said." He murmured quietly. "And thank you for looking out for Isabel, and the others I presume. I'm sorry for worrying you and Ellie and Piper and…I'll stop by Diamond City to make things right with Pipes."
"Apology accepted." Nick replied, tone calm and friendly, a sharp contrast to his earlier interrogation. "But you still haven't told me why you've been doing these things."
Nate closed his eyes and stared at the ceiling, making out the different patches of mould and dirt and decay before shaking his head and steeling his nerves.
"At first it was for Shaun." He began slowly. "I wanted the Minutemen to last, to bring stability even if I couldn't leave them. I wanted them to make the Commonwealth a safe place for Shaun to grow up and live as happy a life as he can live."
Nick nodded to show he was following along, and his friend's silence emboldened Nate to continue.
"But then…I couldn't just stop thinking of these what ifs. What if Kellog's memories were a trap? What if it was some sort of Institute failsafe to get someone with the capability of killing their top gun to go on a wild goose chase in the Glowing Sea? What if Shaun was dead? What if they were experimenting on him? What if it was too late to save him?" Nate paused for breath. "I just…I started to lose hope. Nothing changed. Nothing happened. There was no breakthroughs or new information. I started to push people away because…"
He trailed off, and his eyes darted to the pistol that rested on his desk. The same 10mm he'd used to fight his way out of 111.
Nick noticed. He followed Nate's eyes and a surprised sound erupted from him, his face contorting into one of shock.
"You…"
"Yeah." Nate replied. "Why not? If I don't have Shaun, I don't have anything."
"You have us." Nick answered quietly. "Piper, Ellie, Cait, Hancock, Isabel, Ada."
"And you guys are the reason I've survived this far." Nate said honestly, gratefully. "But that's just it. I'm surviving , I'm not living . This…This isn't my world. My world's dead. My wife is dead. If my son is dead…I don't have anything worth living for."
"Not even us huh?" Nick retorted, voice filled with a quiet anger.
"I should've died in Vault 111 Nick." Nate replied bluntly. "My world died there."
"You could have a new one, new friends, a new family."
Nate looked away, unable to meet his friends' eyes.
"Do what you think you need to do." Nick said after a few more moments of silence. "Just don't try making things right, especially not with Piper, if you still end up thinking about offing yourself. It'll just break the poor girl's heart."
And mind too, went unspoken as Nick turned around and left.
Nate hadn't felt so alone, not even when trapped in an icy tomb surrounded by death.
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Violent crackling boomed around him, dimmed slightly by the thundering joints of his moving power armour.
He had upgraded it to be able to withstand the unbelievably strong power of the radiated hellscape that was the Glowing Sea. Even with the knowledge he'd done all he could to prepare, that he was wearing a Shielded Vault Suit underneath his thick, lead plated Power Armour, he still felt vulnerable and weak.
But he had to keep going. Keep pushing. He had to find Virgil. He had to find Shaun.
He had nothing else otherwise.
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Virgil was yet another step forward only to be pushed back a dozen more feet.
Find the Courser, kill the Courser, build an advanced machine capable of molecular teleportation from scratch.
No biggie.
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The Courser was dead. Now he had to build a machine.
Isabel sent he schematics. He didn't care anymore. Part of him already knew that even if he did rescue Shaun, it was unlikely he would ever be able to be proper, good father to him. Who knew what the Insitute had done? What they had told him?
He had to focus. He had his mission, even if the outcome may not be desirable. The Army had taught him that a victory was better than no victory.
Hence why he was meeting with Elder Maxson. The Minutemen didn't have the technolgical capability to help him build the machine. The Brotherhood of Steel did. All he would have to do was make a deal with the devil.
"Anything you ask in return and that's it?"
"Yes. Allowing that abomination to exist is a stain on the Brotherhood's honour. Be grateful I'm not demanding more for sheer insult of you harbouring such a creature."
"If getting Shaun back means doing that, then consider it done."
"We'll see if you have the guts, General ."
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"Nate? Is that you?"
"Yes."
"Is everything okay? I thought you weren't going to visit because of the Brotherhood?"
"That's true Danse."
"Have they left the Commonwealth then?"
"Not quite."
"What do you-?"
A lone crack of a 10mm pistol echoed throughout the dead of the night.
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"It's done."
"Clearly. Bringing back it's head wasn't necessary."
"Just bringing his tags would've led to accusations I just asked them from him."
"Hmph. Keep the tags, I'll have my men disect the head for technology. The rest of its body?"
"Buried."
"Sentiment for a machine is unbecoming."
"I owed him that much."
"It."
"We'll have to agree to disagree Maxson."
"Very well. I'll have my best work on that machine, but remember our deal. Push comes to shove, it'll be the Brotherhood of Steel that leads the way and cuts out the cancer that it the Institute."
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"Are you sure you want to do this Blue? The Brotherhood aren't good for the Commonwealth."
"The Institute is worse. I thought you of all people would understand that."
"I do! It's just…are you sure we can't try cutting a deal with them? All that tech just…gone seems like such a waste."
"These people murdered my wife, kidnapped my son, indoctrinated him and turned him into a monster. They're lucky I'm considering giving them the mercy of a quick, painless death."
"A nuclear meltdown doesn't seem quick or painless."
"Well that's your opinion."
"Does my opinion not matter?"
"No when you're being stupid."
"Hah! Good to see you care Blue."
"Who said I did?"
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Nate slurped down the last of his noodles and slid the bowl back towards Takahashi. He had a few hours to make it to the starting point and then the Brotherhood would launch their final assault on the Insitute.
The Minutemen weren't going to take part. After what he'd done to Danse was not so subtly leaked by Elder Maxson, he'd been thrown out by the organisation and Preston was General now.
Nick hadn't spoken to him. Cait was last seen somewhere up north. Ada had joined Isabel who'd locked herself away in her former lair. Hancock had banished him from Goodneighbour for working with the Brotherhood.
Piper…that was all on him too. He didn't even know what he was doing most of the time these days, his body on autopilot whenever he wasn't in a gunfight or plotting to bring down the Institute.
He sighed and felt the clump of papers tucked against his breast. He gave Takahashi his final tip and headed out, stopping only for a moment to give the letters to Nat, who glared at him and took them with a suspicious look.
"Make sure she reads it kid." Nate told her, voice gravelly from his lack of sleep. "We both know she'll need to move on. She deserves better than me."
And with that he walked out of Diamond City with a weight off his shoulders and a destiny to face.
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"Do you think he's alive?"
"Who?"
"Blue."
Nick puffed on his cigarette for a few more moments. At times like this he couldn't help but feel too old for all this.
"Maybe." He conceded. "I was following a trail not too long ago. Went dark not far from Sanctuary Hills, but…but what I saw was enough to make me think he survived the battle at least."
"What was it?" Piper demanded, voice filled with desperation. "Don't leave me in suspense Nick please!"
"Graves." Nick blurted out. "Graves outside Vault 111. I think one of them belonged to his wife."
"Why do you think that?"
"Because his ring with her and left a giant Sentry Bot to guard it."
"That…sounds like Blue alright." Piper smiled weakly, before wrapping her coat tighter around her at a sudden gust of chilly wind that blew in from a new hole in her trailer wall. She would need to try fix it soon. "Do you think he cared?"
"He did." Nick replied quickly. "That much I know. The pressure…everything to just got to him. It can happen to the best of us. Did in the old man's case."
Piper smiled for a moment, before she noticed his tone.
"Nick?"
"Just been thinking about things. I'm old Piper. I'm not going to be around forever and I don't want to spend all my life just…this."
"Thinking of a career change?"
"And a home change. I've heard about some sort of synth settlement whilst I've been working on a case. Figured I'd scope it out and see if it's worth moving there whilst I work on the case. And I was wondering if you wanted to come along too."
"But Nat…"
"Ellie'll need something to do whilst I'm away and the paperwork builds up. Don't tell anyone else but apparently she's thinking about taking things a step further with her husband."
"Baby?"
"Baby." Nick nodded. "She wants practice with kids first though."
"I suppose it's my civic duty then to push my little sis on her then eh?" Piper smiled. "Sure Nick. I'm in."
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"Well this is awkward."
"You can say that again." Nick retorted dryly. Nate winced at the disappointed look radiating from him and the the volcano about to burst next to the old synth.
"You selfish, stupid, idiotic, dumbass bastard son of whore!" Piper bellowed, thundering forwards and glocking Nate right in the jaw so hard he was on his ass on the cold, wet ground and seeing stars. "What the hell! You left! You didn't say goodbye and you just left! You better have a good reason or you are dead! Do you here me? Dead!"
"Dad? What's going on?"
Piper froze mid-tirade, jaw dropping at the sight of a young boy at the doorway to former Minutemen General's room at Acadia. Nick dropped his cigarette onto the floor.
"Just some old friends son." Nate said calmly, rubbing his jaw and getting back onto his feet. "Piper, Nick, meet Shaun. Shaun, this is Piper and Nick, some old friends of mine."
"Old friends who punch you in your face?" Shaun asked innocently, making Nick chuckle and Piper snort.
"I like you kiddo." Piper told him, taking in the young boy who looked nine years old. He was definitely Nate's son, he had similar colouring and the same nose. But their was a hint of difference as well, enough to make the fact his mother was missing all the more prominent to her.
'This is the closest I'll get to meeting her.' Piper realised, always being curious about the woman who had been able to apparently tame Nate.
"I feel like this is going to be a long story." Nick said lamely.
"But one that's a good enough reason for me not to kick your ass in front of your son." Piper finished, and Nate rolled his eyes and nodded.
"Sounds about right. Come in and close the door behind you. Shaun, can you take those supplies down to Kasumi?"
"Sure dad." Shaun shrugged, heading back inside only to re-emerge with a box of stuff. "See you later!"
"Bye kiddo!"
"Cya kid."
Goodbyes said, Piper turned back to Nate, though she noticed Nick stare after Shaun for a few more moments.
"That's the kid we risked life and limb for eh?" He said quietly after a few more moments of silence.
"He is." Nate replied, eyes narrowed and voice cold. Piper flinched, getting a creeping feeling she was missing out on something. "My son."
"Can…either of you two tell me what it is I'm missing?" Piper chuckled nervously. "I feel like I'm missing something."
"Where are we Piper?" Nate asked, and Piper frowned.
"Acadia."
"What is it though?" Nick pointed out, and Piper's frown deepened.
"A synth refuuuuuu-oh…"
"She got it." Nate smiled, before gesturing inside. "Come on in and I'll give you the longer story."
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"So you couldn't come back because of the Brotherhood?"
"Yes. They would've killed Shaun and wanted to kill me too. Tying up loose ends and all that jazz."
"They're supposed to be leaving soon."
"And they will. With the Institute gone there isn't much for them to want apart from bits and bobs of random tech. Stuff is going on with the Brotherhood somewhere to the west, and its enough to get Maxson's attention. Once he goes I'll be coming back to the Commonwealth."
"Really?" Piper asked, wincing at how hopeful she sounded.
"Really." Nate nodded, giving her and Nick an apologetic look. "I'm sorry for leaving the way I did, but I couldn't put you guys at risk. So long the Brotherhood thought I'd left the Commonwealth, they wouldn't have targeted you because they know I'd be too far away to hear the news of you being taken hostage."
"It's fine." Nick said. "I'm wanted enough by the tin can bastards enough as it is."
"I can take care of myself." Piper retorted, and Nate turned to her with knowing eyes.
"You could." He conceded. "But what would you have done if they threatened to attack Diamond City or the Castle if you didn't turn yourself over?"
Piper didn't answer, because they all already knew it.
"Now that that's all cleared up." Nate said, leaning forward with a familiar, comforting gleam in his eye. "Shaun'll be a while, so why don't you catch me up on what you two are looking for and I'll see if I can help."
Piper grinned and before she could reply Nick had leaned forward and unleashed a barrage of ideas and theories in an animated way she hadn't seen him speak in for months. Leaning back, she watched and took the sight in, almost surprised at how alive Nick could actually look when he was in a good mood.
Then Nate looked at her and asked her for her opinion. She grinned and launched into her own speech, feeling a warm feeling spread throughout her as she took in Nate's undivided attention.
It felt like the good old' days of a few months ago again.
A/N: Special thanks to kentuckyfriedchicken123 who requested this and helped me write it. Make sure to check out their work if you've read to this point! They're really good and I would definitely recommend them.
