Chapter 23: Picking Up The Pieces

Pain slammed against Nora's body like a tidal wave. Her skin felt like it was on fire. Her throat was swollen and she couldn't breathe. Drool leaked down her cheeks in red-tinted bubbles as her saliva had nowhere else to go but out. Oppressive heat singed her skin burning the fine hair from her arms. The plastic paneling of her synth chest armor was starting to melt and Nora realized that the entire hallway was on fire. Glass beakers on the nearby shelving exploded from the heat and her PipBoy's alarm was going off. She reached over to undo the metal clasps but touching it was like pressing her thumb to a frying pan. Nora cried out but the sound was muted and strangled.

Fear overtook her adrenaline and she looked up into the raging inferno. She wondered if this is what her son experienced as the crematorium turned his corpse to ash. She was going to die here, cremated alive by the Institute itself. Their last and worst Director.

Her vision blurred and Nora closed her eyes as the blistering heat licked across body like the very fires of hell itself. Angry orange light mingled with a blinding cerulean blue and then Nora no longer felt the floor beneath her back. Immediately, the blistering heat disappeared and Nora felt delicious cold morning air blow over her scorched skin. She could've cried out in relief, but she could barely take in a breath.

When she opened her eyes, the faint blue morning sky loomed over her. Thin white clouds stretched across the robin's egg blue canvas as thin as spider's silk and Nora took in her first breath of pure air.

The ground rumbled beneath her and a horrifyingly bright flash erupted out of the corner of her right eye. Nora couldn't turn her head to look, but she didn't need to. Experience told her what her sight could not. That was a nuclear explosion. A red-black mushroom cloud loomed over her like an omen of death and the shockwave shook everything around her. She must've been on top of a building or something because the shockwave merely made the sky sway. She was thankfully spared from the heat, the force, and the radiation as it washed over the battlefield. What she wasn't spared from, however, were the screams of the terrified people in its wake as they died.

Nora closed her eyes and sobbed. She had never wanted any of this to happen. She had tried her best to save the Institute and stop the Brotherhood, but she should've realized the one undeniable fact about war: there are no winners and losers, only the victors and the victims.

But in war, nobody technically won.

Nick had once told her that.

Who do you think won the war? Nobody I suppose.

"N—No—shhh—N-Nora! C—aan you—-shhh—-hear me?"

Nora didn't have the strength to answer. She couldn't speak and it took all her willpower and concentration to just breathe. She couldn't turn her head without sending agonizing shockwaves up through her neck and spine, so she slowly and deliberately reached over to touch her PipBoy. The entire console felt unrecognizable as it had melted around her forearm. The skin beneath it throbbed and ached, but she managed to find the radio device that Tinker Tom had attached to it. She turned one of the black dials and a steady beeping sound began broadcasting. They had used this same feature to track down the Courser in Greentech Genetics all of those years ago. Now Nora hoped that if any of her friends were still alive, that they'd track her down before it was too late.

Hancock dove down an alleyway near the Cambridge Polymer Labs as the shockwave from the nuclear explosion rained hellfire and radiation down upon the land. He clutched his head and curled up against the mediocre shelter of a yellow, rusted dumpster as the shockwave sucked the oxygen out of the air as it passed.

For a moment, the world stood still as the grey ash and debris from the destroyed Institute settled over the area like a blanket. He heard voices yelling in pain and terror or just sheer horror. A poor bastard ran past the alleyway on fire and going insane from the pain. This is what Daisy meant when she talked about the chaos that happened after the bombs fell. Hancock was familiar with death in his life, but witnessing destruction and pain first hand and at this apocalyptic-type of level made him weep.

More explosions echoed through the air as cars in the nearby parking garage began exploding from the heat or as a result of catching fire from the fallout. Hancock ran out of the alleyway and went towards the predetermined rally point: Oberland Station.

Fear and pure adrenaline pushed him into a sprint and he searched for familiar faces among the huddled masses once he approached. Despite the chaos and confusion, Hancock didn't see Nick or Nora among the groups of people.

"Mayor!" Desdemona's commanding voice cut through the din.

He turned towards the sound and the formidable woman strode towards him with determined fire in her eyes.

"Have you seen Nora?!"

The woman frowned and she shook her head.

"I only have Deacon and Carrington with me." she replied.

An older blond man overheard their conversation and stepped towards them both. His face was covered in ash and dirt, but Hancock thought he looked familiar.

"N-nora was relayed back to the Institute." He coughed. "That was the plan if the — Brotherhood breached the Institute. She was providing additional cover support, and —"

Hancock's eyes widened as everything hit him at once. He might be dealing with a concussion but he vaguely remembered telling someone to help get Nora to the rally point. Fuck…who was it? But if Nora made it back into the Institute, then …

Nora was dead.

"NO!" Someone screamed as Hancock lunged for Dr. Binet while lost in his blind rage.

Desdemona interjected herself in between the irate ghoul and the terrified doctor and held him back.

"Mayor, we have more important things to do than —"

Hancock pointed a gnarled finger at the terrified man and then he looked at the assembled group of twenty five Institute synths and scientists. "There's nothin' fuckin' important to do." he snarled. "Nora's dead! Nick's probably dead! Everyone in my life's fuckin' dead because of the god-damned Institute!"

Dr. Binet trembled and he didn't dare look the ghoul in the eye. Although both men were stark opposites in every way, he understood how the ghoul felt. Liam meant everything to him and knowing that his son was out in the wasteland somewhere filled him with utter terror.

"Mayor!" A small black man with ridiculous headgear ran through the crowd holding a metal rod with two equidistant tines on the end. It looked like a giant tuning fork but a high pitched electrical whine came from the machine.

"Tinkerer, you were supposed to stay at Checkpoint Alpha." Desdemona scolded.

"I know I know I know." he said. "But I just got a panic signal from old MILA here. Wanderer's activated the signal that I installed on her PipBoy. She ain't dead. At least not yet."

"How d'we find her?" Hancock growled.

The man held the strange contraption above his head for a full five seconds, brought it to his ear, nodded a couple of times as though him and the machine were having a conversation that only they could hear, and then he pointed out towards the Boston skyline.

"I'm pickin' up her signal pretty loud and clear. She's got to be up high for the signal to cut through the residual radiation in the air from that bomb blast. It ain't an exact science and MILA's a bit finicky, but I can lead y'all there."

"Yes. Let's go." Desdemona said. Then she turned to Carrington, "Take the refugees up towards Sunshine Tidings and get them settled there for the night. Deacon you go too. I haven't had a chance to do a count of our survivors but we're still missing Patriot and Glory. If you get wind that either of them made it out alive, then hold them there until I can make it back."

Both men looked somber, and for once, neither of them argued. They approached the crowd and Deacon immediately sprang into a faux pleasant tour guide persona.

"Alright folks. Welcome to the Commonwealth. We don't have weapons for you all and we have a long walk ahead of us, so if you die en route, just yell out so we know where the danger's coming from and we can run in the opposite direction."

Twenty-five pale, dirty, and terrified faces looked at the spy with shock and horror. The air was filled with tension and even Carrington gave the other man a dirty look.

"Funny…But he's not kidding." Carrington replied icily. "C'mon. We don't have all day. Let's move out."

The two men herded twenty-five synths and scientists up the hillside towards the cracked road bed. Dr. Binet hung to the back of the group and shot one last furtive glance behind himself. The morning sky was tinged yellow from the explosion and he wondered where this Sanctuary Hills place was and whether he could split from the group without raising suspicion. Nothing mattered else mattered to Dr. Binet than to be reunited with his son.

"Are you coming Alan?" Eve asked.

He swallowed thickly and nodded.

As the group departed, Hancock, Tinker Tom, and Desdemona cut down the riverbank and back towards Hangman's Alley. Hancock tried to imagine that the steady beeping that came from Tom's machine was Nora's heartbeat. It was the only hope that he had left in this world.

Sure, Nora was tough as nails, but he knew the guilt and the responsibility that she took upon herself ever since she went back to the Institute. If Nora had somehow escaped the Institute before it exploded, then she'd be wallowing in a whole different kind of pain. And those types of scars weren't as easily healed.

"Wanderer! Wanderer!"

Nora jolted awake when she heard someone yelling. The voice was feminine and low, but it was followed up by a masculine rasp and a smooth tenor. Desdemona, Hancock, and Tom were here. Cold relief settled in her bones…or maybe the cold was thanks to the bitter wind that came off the ocean. Night had fallen and had gone in and out of consciousness for the past sixteen hours.

The thick cloud cover blocked out the moon and the stars. She saw flashlights glowing off to her left and right and she tried to call out to them.

Her lips were blistered raw from the fire. She tried to yell, "Help!" but it came out as unintelligible choking.

"NORA!" She heard Hancock yell.

She tried to yell again, but her voice came out as a weak choking cough.

"Wait! I think I heard something!" A voice said but they were walking away from her.

She choked in frustration and pain. She let all of her anger and fear and grief out until it came out as an inhuman wail.

"Shit! She's over here!"

The ground vibrated as people ran towards her. Their flashlights were uncomfortably bright and Nora was forced to close her eyes. She felt herself slipping back out into the cold depths of oblivion. Her strength was failing. She was exhausted. The din of frantic, worried, and elated voices washed over her but she didn't have the strength to do anything other than just lie there.

There was pain when people touched her skin. Hot blistering pain that finally drew a high keening scream from her lungs.

"Holy fuck Wanderer!" Tom's voice was weak and breathy.

"Give me the Med-X." A sharp female voice commanded. "We've got to start bandaging her burns."

"Oh fuck, sunshine." A raspy voice croaked. "Oh fuck Nora. Sunshine…you fuckin' scared the shit outta me."

Rough lips gently kissed her forehead and a warm and dry hand started wiping her face off with a damp cloth. A nice cooling tingle accompanied the gesture and Nora's eyes fluttered open.

She saw shapes and blurred faces but the intense pain from the burns stopped her from seeing anything else. Her brain was in pain management mode and it was all she could do to not fall back into unconsciousness again.

"Alright Nora. We're gonna move you on the count of three, okay?"

Nora screamed when they touched her skin to lift her. Her eyes fluttered back into her skull and her body bowed and twitched. She felt her body leave the ground for just a moment and then she was put back down.

Someone got to work cutting away her armor. Each piece that was removed sent a whole wave of fresh pain through her body. Her skin felt raw to the touch and it felt like her nerves had been exposed to the air itself.

"We've got to sedate her." Someone said. "Keeping her conscious through this next part is too damn cruel."

She felt a warm and rough hand gently stroke her hair. "It's gonna be okay, sunshine. We're bringin' you back to Goodneighbor. Dr. Amari's been notified and we'll help you through this. You're safe now. Just keep fightin' through, okay?"

"N-Nick?" she rasped.

"We're looking for him." Desdemona replied. "Preston and his Minutemen along with some of the Goodneighbor group are pulling out the dead and injured from the wreckage. We'll find him."

Nora wanted to smile at that. She wanted to grasp Hancock's hand and never let go. But her mind became fuzzy and she sank back into blissful tranquility as the Med-X took effect.

While unconscious, Nora felt herself anchored to the blackness, immobile and heavy. Occasionally she'd hear sounds echo in her ears and she'd feel the faintest sensations of pain shoot through her body.

She had no concept of time as she laid there. There was only now. The deep, dark immovable future that held her in limbo. No matter what, this purgatory wouldn't break her. Until the die was cast, until the cards were shown, and until the gavel sounded, Nora would wait for her judgement. If she was stubborn in life, then she'd be just as stubborn in death. She would not go willingly - not this time - Death would have to pull her one way or the other kicking and screaming.

Nora.

The voice was soft, almost a whisper but then she heard it again.

Nora.

Dammit, where was the voice coming from? Then another voice joined.

Nora. Nora. NORA!

The voices seemed to multiply until her name echoed from all around her. The voices were indistinct roars: NO-RA. NO-RA. NO-RA.

Nora felt herself catapulted into the light with a force that tore a silent scream from her throat. Her chest exploded into a hot writhing mess of pain and her face was wet with tears.

"NORA!" A woman's voice yelled. "C'mon Nora. Wake up. We need you to wake up."

As soon she opened her eyes, her entire body felt like it was leaking. People she barely knew, and some she truly didn't know, poked and prodded her with gauze, bandages, and the like.

"Dr. Amari?" Nora croaked.

The woman nodded. Her face was covered with a surgical mask but Nora saw the smile that it hid.

Dr. Virgil came to the other side of the gurney. He was carrying several doctor's bags and was pushing an IV pole with a bag full of a saline drip. His black hair was neatly combed down the middle and his face had filled out from the gaunt and haunted quality it had when Nora had last seen him.

"Where's … Hancock?" Nora croaked.

"He's on his way." Dr. Amari replied. "Keep talking to us. You're badly burned and you could go into shock. The topical stimpak ointment that Hancock made was enough to handle the superficial burns on your face, but your wrist —" Dr. Amari faltered, "It's almost certain that you'll experience some nerve damage from the burns on your arms and thighs."

Dr. Virgil injected something into an IV drip and within thirty seconds, Nora didn't feel the pain as strongly anymore. But she did feel completely and utterly exhausted.

"Where's Nick?" She croaked.

Silence was her answer and a cold numbness settled through her that had nothing to do with the medication.

Nora moved her head to the side ever so slightly so she could look Dr. Amari in the face. The woman's dark eyes met hers.

Nora got her answer just then.

"Don't let me die." Nora rasped. "Don't let me give up Amari. I can't leave Hancock. He's all that I got left in this world."

"I wouldn't think of letting you go that easily." Dr. Amari replied fiercely. "You're safe now, Nora. Rest now."

So Nora did. The world slowed down as Nora floated in the in-between state of wakefulness and a sleep-like meditation. The sounds of people around her all melted away into chaotic nonsense and so she stopped trying to make sense of anything at all.

Nora did dream, but each time her mind pulled her out of the lull, she forgot everything she had dreamt. Well, everything except Nick's guilty but determined expression when he knocked her below their makeshift barricade as the Brotherhood soldiers unloaded their weapons on them. Then she woke up screaming.

"Nora! Sunshine! Wake up!"

Rough hands gently shook her by the shoulders. Nora was pulled back into consciousness only to find that Dr. Amari's laboratory was quiet. The doctor was sprawled out on a cot nearby. Her normally neat hair escaped its bun and hung around her face in loose salt-and-pepper strands. Virgil slept nearby on a red sofa that looked barely large enough to contain his mass. Both doctors had fallen asleep holding hands and how their hands hung off their beds and rested inches apart on the ground.

"John." Nora croaked.

Hancock's breath hitched and he beamed at her.

"You have no idea how fuckin' amazing it feels to hear you say my name." he murmured.

Nora's vision swam for a second and then she squinted at the ghoul. Her mind felt half-loopy and sloppy from the Med-X she was on, but still, something was different about Hancock.

"Are you wearing doctor's scrubs?" she asked.

Hancock chuckled, "I'm in all the regulation clothing. Virgil wouldn't let me in here otherwise. He said somethin' about needin' to keep you from developing an infection and that a sterile doctor's room is — blah — blah — blah."

Then Hancock lowered his voice and knelt down next to Nora's bedside. Heat and levity danced in his eyes.

"Hey. I didn't know you wanted to play dress up, sunshine. Maybe once the doctors get done patchin' ya up, I can take ya back to my place to fulfill this little fantasy that I've had time to concoct while you were down and out. What d'ya think?"

Hancock's voice dripped with innuendo, but Nora noticed the pained look on his face that betrayed his real emotions. He was in pain and he was trying so damn hard to hide it from her.

"You are insufferable." Nora lightly scolded. "But as appealing as that sounds, I'm afraid that I'm not in fighting shape for that quite yet."

"Hey, I absolutely agree. No press—wait…you said that playin' doctor appealed to you?" His grin got wider and Nora found just enough strength to roll her eyes.

"John, please." She weakly reprimanded him.

"Alright. I'll take a rain check then." Hancock smirked. "But I do need to do a little non-sexy doctoring."

Hancock reached over to the end table next to the hospital bed that was stashed in the corner of Dr. Amari's laboratory and graded a bowl filled with minty smelling medication. He then carefully removed the bandages on her right arm. The cotton and gauze was stained pink and a sickening residue of fluid buildup and soaked into the bandaging. She tried to ignore the sickeningly sweet scent of cooked meat as Hancock peeled the bandage away from her aching forearm, yet as soon as the eight inch section of skin on her inner forearm was exposed to the air, Nora cried out in pain.

Hancock sighed and he ran his hand through her hair. "Keep breathing, sunshine. You're turnin' a little pale on me. Just keep breathing, okay? The pain is gonna come when it comes. Don't fight it. Just ride it like a wave. Focus on me, okay?"

"A-am I turning ghoul?" Nora asked.

"No Nora. You just got regular old burns, but they operate in many similar ways as radiation burns. And the one where your PipBoy once was is a doozy — at least second degree burns — so both of the doctors, Daisy, and me have taken shifts to help keep your bandages clean as you heal. Oh and I apply some of my proprietary topical blend of medicine, but nothing can really help you with the pain aside for chems, and you're at your dosage limit for now."

Nora understood what Hancock was trying to say.

This was going to hurt.

"Woah woah there sunshine." Hancock croaked. "Can't have you goin' lights out yet. I was told that you gotta stay awake for this cuz I got to keep an eye out for signs of you goin' into shock. So why don't you tell me a story while I take care of ya?"

"A story?" Nora repeated arily. Already the pain was starting to make her head swim.

"Yeah!" He replied. "You have a Pre-War history virgin here. Talk to me about crazy Pre-War things that got lost when the big ol' bombs fell. Blow my fuckin' mind here."

The first strip of medicated gauze that he placed over Nora's blistered red forearm made her whole body tense up. Her eyes rolled back into her head and she gripped the blankets.

"I — always — blow your — fuckin' mind." Nora gritted out. "Y-you said that yourself, remember?"

"You always do, sunshine." Hancock agreed, his voice hitched a little. "Go on. Tell me a story. Please."

Hancock added another medicated strip of gauze to her forearm, but the pain was cut in half now that there was a small barrier between the medicine and her ruined skin thanks to Hancock's previous application.

"Well..." Nora wheezed as she racked her brain for a story. Weirdly enough, their shared joint from yesterday … or whenever that was … came to her mind.

"I never did tell you about the times I smoked pot in high school. My friends and I got pulled over by a cop. My friend borrowed her dad's Corvega so we could take the convertible down to the Drive In to see a late movie - one of those really dirty ones that they'd only show to select audiences - and we got pulled over before we ever left Concord.

"You little delinquent." Hancock mock scolded and he applied another bandage on the burns along her bicep and upper arms. "And what happened? Did he throw the book at you?"

Nora closed her eyes as she relived the memory.

"No. He let us off with a warning. "But my father was pissed. I was grounded for nearly two months. I had to miss the Spring Formal dance because of that."

Hancock shook his head in sympathy, "Parents have always been a drag, no matter the time period. What did Nicky say when you told him this? I think he'd …"

They both froze and their light-hearted conversation died in the air. Both of them knew the truth. The refugee camp hadn't seen hide nor hair of a synth matching Nick's description. Hancock even hired Carla to keep an eye out at the other settlements and outposts, but she hadn't seen anyone remotely matching Nick's description in the past 72 hours, and it had been eight days since the Battle of the CIT.

"John…" Nora croaked.

Hancock's rough hand squeezed her hand painfully hard. His jaw clenched which made the visible muscles in his face bulge. His black eyes glistened with rage. In the sterile bright light of the operating room, Hancock looked positively murderous.

"John, please." Nora begged weakly. "Don't leave me. Stay here."

"Sunshine..." Hancock began. His rough voice cracking with emotion "I — "

"- I know." She replied hollowly. "I know."

Hancock rested his forehead against hers. She could feel his wet tears drip down her face and then she felt his rough lips kiss her forehead. She raised her hand to touch his face. Her fingers trembled with the effort and his own hand caught hers and brought her hand to his face.

"Don't ever leave me." Nora whimpered.

"Never sunshine. Never." He murmured in a voice so sincere that it sounded like a prayer.

They stayed like that until Dr. Virgil awoke. He changed the rest of her soiled bandages and then added a small sedative to Nora's IV.

"You're okay to sleep now." He told Nora.

As though by magic, the sedative began taking effect and Nora felt her eyes close.

"I love you." She heard Hancock murmur in her ear.

"Me too." She sighed and fell into the darkness once again.

The next time Nora woke up, she heard a child's voice reading to her. He had to slow down to enunciate and sound out the unfamiliar words but his voice conveyed a confidence and sureness that lulled Nora into a sort of peaceful trance.

The boy's voice was even and steady, betraying no emotion as he read, and Nora felt herself fall back into a memory. Now her mom's voice overtook the boy's and her soft soprano tones echoed out to her. She could feel her ghostly fingers running through her hair.

Leslie, were you scared? Did you know you were dying? Were you scared like me? A picture of Leslie being sucked into the cold water flashed across his brain.

C'mon, Prince Terrien," he said quite loudly. "We must make a funeral wreath for the queen."

He sat in the clear space between the bank and the first line of trees and bent a pine bough into a circle, tying it with a piece of wet string from the castle. And because it looked cold and green, he picked spring beauties from the forest floor and wove them among the needles.

He put it down in front of him. A cardinal flew down to the bank, cocked its brilliant head, and seemed to stare at the wreath. P. T. let out a growl which sounded more like a purr. Jess put his hand on the dog to quiet him. […]

Nora thought of the impromptu grave that she and Deacon had made for Synth Nate on that lakeshore.

The boy's voice continued reading in a gentle, almost soothing tone.

It was Leslie who had taken him from the cow pasture into Terabithia and turned him into a king. He had thought that was it. Wasn't king the best you could be? Now it occurred to him that perhaps Terabithia was like a castle where you came to be knighted. After you stayed for a while and grew strong you had to move on. For hadn't Leslie, even in Terabithia, tried to push back the walls of his mind and make him see beyond to the shining world - huge and terrible and beautiful and very fragile?

Now it was time for him to move out. She wasn't there, so he must go for both of them. It was up to him to pay back to the world in beauty and caring what Leslie had loaned him in vision and strength.

As for the terrors ahead - for he did not fool himself that they were all behind him - well, you just have to stand up to your fear and not let it squeeze you white. Right, Leslie?

"Right." Nora echoed out in a croak.

Synth Shaun stopped reading and looked at Nora with wide, hopeful eyes.

"You—you're awake!"

He hopped down from the chair and ran over to the man who was sitting off in the darkened alcoves of Amari's lab.

"Dr. Binet! Mother is awake!"

Nora winced at the title and croaked out, "Jesus kid, don't call me that."

Shaun looked at her in surprise. "Oh. Sorry. I — I just thought that was what I was supposed to call you since you're my Mother." He saw Nora's shocked and pained expression and added hastily, "It's okay. Dr. Binet told me about everything. I think he wanted me to know the truth in case you died."

She laughed at his bluntness but coughed and winced as her body protested every minuscule movement.

"I — I—It's ha—ard to explain." Nora choked out through the pain.

"I know." The boy replied sagely. "Don't worry about that now. Just focus on getting better, kay?"

Shaun picked up the beaten up copy of Bridge to Terabithia and stepped into the corner of the room to sit in an empty chair as Dr. Amari descended the wooden stairs.

The woman looked haggard. The wrinkles in her face were more pronounced and her eyes were dull and rimmed with heavy bags. Her eyes were also red-lined as though she had been crying.

"Nora." She croaked out and smoothed her damp hair away from her clammy scalp with maternal tenderness. "I'm so glad you're awake."

Nora managed a small smile and she leaned into the woman's touch.

"It's all thanks to you and Virgil. I wouldn't have pulled through if it wasn't for you both."

Dr. Amari brushed off Nora's praise with a gentle brush of her hand.

"Nonsense." she replied. "You pulled through because your will to live is strong. You're a fighter Nora. You've always been."

"Any word about…?" Nora murmured but the other woman shook her head.

"No Nora. I'm so sorry."

Nora swallowed down her grief. She couldn't deal with it now.

"So…Dr. Binet is here?"

A masculine voice coughed and Dr. Binet stepped into the stark lamplight. Dr. Amari's face remained neutral when she saw the scientist.

"I'm going to take the boy to get some food. I'll be right back, okay?"

Nora knew that Amari was trying to give them privacy, but at that moment, that was the absolute last thing she wanted. It's not that she didn't trust Dr. Binet. She did. But she wasn't emotionally prepared for where she knew this conversation would go.

Synth Shaun hopped off the chair and took the book with him. He looked different than Nora had remembered. Maybe it was because he was dressed in an old denim jacket that was way too big on him instead of the tailored Institute uniform, or maybe this whole ordeal had put the synth child in a new light. He wasn't just her late son's bastardized creation. He was a child. He was scared, and his home was gone.

When Dr. Amari and Shaun left, Dr. Binet took up the vacant seat and dragged it over to Nora's bedside.

"Nora…" Dr. Binet's voice was hoarse and rough.

She swallowed the growing lump in her throat and shook her head. They both looked at each other's pained expressions and knew that there was nothing that either of them could say that would make the situation any better.

"So…Shaun thinks I'm …"

The older man shook his head. "That wasn't my doing. Please believe me Nora. When the Institute —" he choked on the rest of the words, cleared his throat, and tried again. "Without the Institute, Shaun reverted back to his default personality. The fail safes that Li and I programmed are now null and void without the Institute's technology to back it up. Persuading Shaun otherwise would cause too much mental stress and confusion in a boy that young, so I answered what I could and told him half-truths. I told him that you are his mother, but that I'm responsible for him in the same way that I'm responsible for Liam. He has no concept of adoption, but I think he understands familial relationships enough to accept what I'm saying as fact."

"But he thinks I'm his mother." Nora replied and suppressed bitterness seeped into her next words. "I don't want him."

Dr. Binet nodded. He didn't judge Nora for how she felt. She didn't have a relationship with the boy like Dr. Binet did. It would be asinine to think that Nora would want a child that reminded her of her past trauma.

"That's why I'm keeping him." Dr. Binet said softly. "Well…keeping is a callous word. He's not a dog. I am adopting him, as long as that's okay with you."

Nora felt a weight lift from her shoulders. Although she didn't feel any maternal connection to the synth child, she was still grateful and happy that the boy would be loved and cared for by a father figure.

"I'm sure Liam will be happy." She replied. "Shaun sure looks up to him."

Dr. Binet's face turned stony and Nora saw hopeless despair seep into his eyes. Her heart caught in her throat and a little bell chimed in her brain as she put two and two together.

"Liam…" Her question failed to materialize into something more substantial, but Dr. Binet still shook his head.

"Those Minutemen allies of yours found his body among the dead. He was unrecognizable save for the Institute communicator on his corpse. That's the only way they could identify his body as that of their synth savior Patriot." Dr. Binet's voice turned sour and sarcastic at the end as embittered grief made him sink into himself.

"I brought him into this world." Dr. Binet wailed. "And I buried him too."

His sobs jostled his body as though they were made with electricity and he fell forward and sobbed into the moth-eaten blankets that were draped across the gurney.

Nora felt her own grief push to the surface. She wouldn't be here if it wasn't for Liam. He saved her life. He was a rare good soul in that sterile and amoral world of science. But more than that, Nora knew the pain of losing a child. She knew the emptiness that accompanied the confusion and guilt over not having done enough as a parent. She knew that Alan was probably beating himself up inside and rewinding back through all of the missteps and mistakes that he made as a Father. Maybe her son didn't deserve the grief she felt — he was her son through biology not love — but Liam deserved every tear shed. So she grieved with the man and placed her bandaged hand on the man's thinning hair.

"I'm sorry." Nora croaked. And that was the truth. "I'm so sorry for everything."

Blond hair stuck out from between trembling fingers and Dr. Binet shook his head. "I'm sorry too, Nora."

It physically hurt to cry. The fire had inflamed her eyes and tear ducts and each tear that spilled down her cheeks felt like they carried bits of glass or sand. Still, Nora just leaned into the despair like she was stuck quicksand and had decided to accept her fate.

Finally, Binet pulled away and rubbed at his blotchy face with trembling hands.

"Alan." Nora murmured.

He looked at her with an owlish look that was only made more pitiful by his disheveled appearance.

"I'm resigning." she said softly.

"I'm sorry?"

"I resign as your Director." Nora said.

Dr. Binet let out a short bark-like laugh that carried more cynicism than humor. "The Institute is gone Nora. I'm the only member or the Directorate who survived."

Nora's smile was sad and small, "Then I guess that makes the vote in favor of my resignation unanimous."

"Nora. Listen to reason. The title is just a name now. There is no power to control. The Institute is gone, but you don't need to resign."

Now it was Nora's turn to give him an oblique expression. "You know that I'm not that naive Alan. The physical Institute may be gone, but there are at least twenty-five former Institute synths and scientists out in the wasteland and I'm sure they're having a helluva time surviving. At some point, someone is going to step into that power vacuum, and I'd rather that it be you."

"Right. Because where the hell would we build a base? What would we even do? There's nothing out here except dirt, irradiated beasts, and chem-fiends."

Nora winced as she tried to sit up in bed. The makeshift hospital gown they had her in stuck to her sweated back. She hoped that this moment would be more monumental than looking like a discount Halloween mummy.

"I'm sure that Vault 111 is a suitable home for twenty-something former Institute refugees. Preston and his Minutemen have a town nearby called Sanctuary Hills. It's my town. I will allow you all to live in the Vault and to do whatever you please as long as the experiments are ethical, humane, and don't infringe upon people's liberties. In return, your group will provide basic medical aid to those wastelanders who need it. You may charge a small fee to restock supplies and to pay your doctors, but you are doing this as a good-will gesture to show the Commonwealth that the Institute is not coming back. You are your own faction and I will check in on you ever so often. Does that seem like a suitable exchange?"

Dr. Binet considered this for a moment and he bowed his head. His voice was rough and low.

"Liam always believed in justice and equality. Although I didn't agree with my son's motivations at first, I respect the decisions he made and I'm proud of the man that he became. A new start might be what we all need to move past this trauma. Thank you Nora."

She smiled and nodded. "Of course. You are their leader now Alan. I have complete faith that you'll find your place here in this new world. The Institute was always touting their motto of Mankind: Redefined. Maybe this type of change is necessary."

Dr. Binet smiled and a small amount of hope leaked into his expression.

"It's not a change," he replied. "It's an evolution."

"And what should we call this evolved new group of yours?" Nora asked.

Something akin to fierce love and loyalty flashed in Alan Binet's eyes. He sat up straighter in the chair and squared his jaw into a look of determined resolve.

"We are Patriot."

—

Weeks passed before the fires in the Institute's grave stopped burning. Eventually the air cleared, the radiation levels settled down, and life continued on as normal. It took the combined efforts of the Minutemen, the Railroad, and Hancock's Neighborhood watch to scour the ruins for evidence of any survivors.

Boards went up in Goodneighbor, Diamond City, the Castle, and half a dozen of the larger settlements, seeking information about lost loved ones — human, ghoul, and synth alike. The list of the confirmed dead was just as long as the list of those who were missing, yet each day that passed without confirmation of Nick's death was one more day that Nora celebrated.

So she waited.

Nora watched the weeks pass by from atop The Old State House's whitewashed balcony. She sat up there and observed the market square down below. Eventually word got out to the small contingent of Brotherhood survivors that the Vault Dweller had survived the explosion and was hiding out in Goodneighbor. When the first soldier forced his way into Goodneighbor, he saw the Vault Dweller perched atop the balcony like a sentinel. At forty paces, the chance was good that he'd get a shot off and kill her before the rest of the town killed him. What he didn't expect was a sharp pain in his head and sensation of free falling as a sniper's bullet penetrated his skull. MacCready loaded another bullet into the chamber of his rifle and trained it on the doorway for the next tin can.

Nora barely moved at all during the entire exchange. She heard the gunshot, saw the man fall, and then trained her gaze back on the door. It would be another month before Nora gave up her vigil and asked MacCready to train her on how to use a sniper rifle.

Her days were spent with Dr. Amari and her nights were spent with Hancock. The doctor asked that Nora see her twice per week for memory aversion therapy to help her through the trauma she endured, but eventually, the women just hung out and enjoyed each other's company like true friends. They gossiped, shared some fine tea that Dr. Amari grew from plants that she grew in small hydroponics in a back alleyway, and tuned into Kent's Silver Shroud broadcasts. Normal was starting to feel good, and Nora did her damnedest to keep that sense of normalcy.

Keeping a routine felt good, and both Nora and Hancock fell back into their roles. Life moved on and Goodneighbor continued to function — albeit in a chaotic dysfunctional sort of way.

Without Nick, Nora and Hancock fell into their relationship even further. The Goodneighbor citizens still couldn't believe that Hancock had actually settled down — and with a smooth skin no less — but this time, the town chalked his change up to maturity rather than Institute interference.

Still Hancock needed Nora as much as she needed him, and their nights were spent entangled in each other processing their grief through sex until talking about Nick didn't hurt as much.

"God sunshine. I wish Nicky could see you right now." Hancock rasped. His breathing was ragged and his mind spun from his climax. "You are so damn fuckin' gorgeous."

She giggled as he planted kisses and gentle love bites across her shoulders and chest. Her legs hooked around his slim waist to keep him inside her until she was ready to let him go. Sometimes they'd just work each other up and she'd feel Hancock harden inside her, ready for round two.

Her face was flushed and she drew a scarred hand up to Hancock's face and cupped his cheek. In the moonlight, her creamy skin looked rippled and puckered — almost translucent and shiny — and like a lighter-colored version of Hancock's radiation burns.

Nora was still adjusting to her scars. After everything was said and done, forty-five percent of her body had been burned badly enough to scar. Fifteen percent of that was greater than second degree burns and left Nora with nerve damage. On bad days, she couldn't feel her right hand on account of where her PipBoy once sat. On good days, she had about as much use in her right hand as someone did who was wearing winter mittens. But Hancock helped her confront this new reality. After all, he had experience twice-over in accepting his disfigured appearance.

"What's on your mind, sunshine?" Hancock whispered.

Nora ran her thumb along Hancocks' angular jaw and drew him towards her for a kiss. He was warm and he tasted like the Salisbury steak that they had for dinner.

"I'm just thankful, I guess." Nora murmured.

"Thankful that I got you to cum three times in a row?" He asked with a smirk.

She chuckled, "John, be serious."

The ghoul sighed and crawled over to the side so he could gather up Nora and hold her against his chest. It was his favorite way of sleeping next to her. Sometimes he'd fall asleep just listening to her heart beating.

"So what are you thankful for?"

Nora curled into Hancock's chest. He pulled the blankets over them. Soon it would be too warm for blankets and they'd curl up in the night breeze and let the wind caress their nakedness, but now, being with Nora like this just felt so damn right.

"I'm thankful for you." Nora said.

Hancock snorted, "C'mon sunshine —"

"John," Nora said sharply. "My life has been in shambles. Each time shit hits the fan, you are always there and by my side helping me pick up the pieces of my shattered self. You were there when I attempted suicide. You were there when I was dealing with Nate's death. You've been by my side every step of the way even if you didn't agree with the direction I chose. I — I can't thank you enough for everything you've done for me."

Hancock shifted uncomfortably and he bit his lip. "Yeah well, Nicky must've rubbed off on me I guess."

"No." Nora said firmly. "He was right about you from the first day that I met you."

"Oh?"

Nora's green eyes looked like old world money beneath the moonlight that shone in through the broken shutters. Hancock could've gotten lost in those eyes had the burning emotion in his throat not pulled him out of the moment.

She cupped his face and rested her forehead against his. Her breath was warm and it tickled his lips when she finally spoke.

"You are a good man John." Nora said. "Nick would've been proud of you."

They both tasted tears as they kissed and they fell asleep clinging to each other like two parts of a ruined pair.