The first toy factory was crawling with super mutants, a few armed to the teeth with all manners of weaponry. Roger lowered his rifle and rubbed his eyes, he wasn't terribly handy with a sniper rifle, but having a long range view was always useful. "Enough standing around, Strong want to smash. Brothers not as strong as Strong, show human." Before Roger could protest, Strong sprung from their hiding spot about 75 yards out and equipped a minigun Roger had modded for him a week or two back. 'You've gotta be kidding me!" Roger followed behind strong with his trusty laser rifle that Shawn had built for him. The first few enemies went down without much of a fight, but there were some big greenies spraying the two with heavy fire. "Get up there, Strong, I'll take the other ones down here." As Roger ran through the lower level of the factory he was excited, he had already seen a few things that he knew were on the list. As the last super mutant dissolved into a mound of ash the sounds of Strong cackling as he filled his rival with bullets reassured that the last enemy had been, or soon will be, killed. "Now let's see here. Obviously we're going to need plenty of wiring-"
"I WIN AGAIN!"
A heavy body collapsed to the floor upstairs and Roger nodded, Strong was certainly capable of fending for himself. No one knew what he meant by 'milk of human kindness' and Hancock always made it a point to laugh at him whenever Strong brought it up. Roger picked a few old light bulbs and blew the dust off a toolbox before attempting to pick the lock. After a few snapped bobby pins he finally pulled open the drawer. "Bingo" Roger said under his breath, but stealthy as he might have been, he heard Strong scoff from across the room. He was now holding a sledgehammer and shaking his head profusely. Roger rolled his eyes as he pulled a few tools from the container. "How else am I supposed to find all the things on the list, Strong? Besides, no one was using these things, there's dust all over the place." Roger heard Strong grunt and mutter something before walking around and looking for danger.
Roger continued to search the area for what seemed like useless junk to Strong. He picked up a lighter and clicked it on a few times, becoming irritated when it didn't light. Strong shook his head and strolled through the doorway to investigate the perimeter. A mole rat launched itself from the earth and Strong swooped his arm down and picked it up by the scruff of its neck. "Strong not like tiny meat, too much bone." And with that he threw the small creature as far as he could into the coming darkness. He laughed that old guttural laugh and wiped his hand on his armor. "Human should be quick, not safe at night." Roger shook off Strong's advice and checked another item off of the list. Looking around Roger couldn't see much else of use in the small factory floor.
"Strong I need you to take a few things for me" Roger said as he tucked the list back into the inner pocket of his vault suit. "Strong take for human." Strong put his back to Roger as he put a few heavy things into Strong's makeshift pack. "I've been asking around at a few of our settlements and it looks like the next factory has ferals all over the damn place. Are you going to be ready for that?" Strong picked something from his teeth and spat it out, "filthy ghouls, Strong kill them all!" Roger smiled, "that's the spirit. Let's go."
/
The second factory proved to be much harder to infiltrate than the first. Ghouls are so much faster, even if they are easier to kill; killing them becomes difficult when you can't even hit them. Strong took a lot of damage, he was surrounded by six or seven of them before Roger was able to catch up to him. "Good news, Strong, we might find the rest of our items at this place. Just keep a look out, I feel like we're not alone here."
Strong stalked around and Roger collected some old prewar junk, also feeling like they had more to worry about. He held a bolt action pipe rifle as if it were little more than a pistol as he made his way around blind corners. An ominous green glow came into view as Strong entered a control room. Radiation didn't bother him and he would never admit to it but ghouls scared him. Not in the way that one might be terrified of heights, but the absolute loss of humanity that comes with being a ghoul just makes him uncomfortable. He lifted the rifle and began shooting as soon as the glowing one made itself visible. The sudden gunfire startled Roger initially, but he knew Strong could take care of whatever posed a threat. "That's it!" Roger exclaimed as he stashed the biometric scanner into his pack.
Having collected the last piece of the puzzle, Roger began his search of strong who was still shooting at whatever he was shooting at. Odd, usually whatever Strong was attacking didn't last very long. Then he heard Strong shout in pain and that was very unnerving. Roger equipped himself with a combat rifle and sprinted in Strong's direction. It better not be a bloat fly, I hate bloat flies.
When roger saw the glowing one swinging at a badly injured Strong, we couldn't help but wish for a bloat fly. One shot to the head, two, four, seven did it in. Strong was scooting around pitifully when Roger jammed a stimpack into his arm. Strong flinched but stood up quickly after that. "If human is done picking up junk, we should leave this place, too many ghouls." Roger nodded, wiping his brow. "I've got to get to Diamond city, do you want to come along?" Strong groaned longer than necessary and Roger almost laughed at this tantrum. "Don't worry about it, Strong, I'll just take those things I gave you and you can go back to Sanctuary." Strong continued to groan as if neither of those were remotely reasonable options. "Or would you prefer the Slog?" Strong hushed, "no more ghouls for Strong, human be careful in city." Roger took the supplies from Strong and they split paths. Roger took the lighter out of his pocket that he had lifted from the first factory. "I'm coming, Nick, hang in there."
/
Nick was struggling to take a cigarette out of the pack with his skin-covered hand. Frustrated he set it down and walked back upstairs. He had spent a lot of time sitting at the edge of his bed, just sitting and staring. He had tried to run diagnostics for systems that his hard drive didn't recognize anymore. It was nothing if not hell. He smacked the side of his head a few times, hard, maybe that would get some wires re-amped but nothing new happened. He sighed and rubbed his eyes. Roger was a busy man, he couldn't blame him for setting the needs of an old synth on the back burner, but still. "Nicky, are you alright? Can I get you anything?" Ellie had been watching Nick deteriorate over the years but never this rapidly. It's like he was falling apart all at once. When she was met with silence she couldn't help but feel like crying.
She slumped down on the bottom step and crumbled into her lap, not able to push back her sadness anymore. She didn't want Nick to hear her crying, she was sure he'd try to comfort her even though it was him who needed the comforting. Before long she felt his hand rest on her back. "I hope you're not fussing over me like that, I'd hate to be the cause of those tears." She tried smiling but her grin was crooked and her makeup smudged. "Nick, I just don't like seeing you so… so-" "Broken down?" She took in a sharp breath, trying not to cry heavier than she already was. "Ellie, you don't need to worry about me, I've got time left in these old gears, just need some oiling is all." The door opened slowly and the bell chimed as a visitor walked in.
"We're closed, come back later." Ellie started, wiping her nose. "What, even for a friend?" Roger's voice was music to Nick's ears at that point. "Boy am I glad to see you, pal. What did your search turn up?" When Roger turned the corner to meet the two eye to eye he saw Ellie's face flushed and her eyes swollen. "Ellie, what's the matter?" He turned his gaze to Nick, "Am I too late?" Nick stood up after a little trouble and shook Roger's hand. "Not a moment too soon, really." Roger felt the lack of strength in Nick's hand and felt a tug in his throat.
"I have everything we need, but I need to get to a work bench. The one here in the city should work, if you're ready." Nick nodded, "after you."Once they reached the unfinished house Roger had bought in the middle of town Roger began setting up a makeshift operation area. Nick felt a chill and removed his trench coat, hanging it up on a rack, followed by his hat and his gun holster. Roger choked back his sadness from merely watching Nick undress, it all felt so final. He had watched documentaries of open heart surgery before the war. The families of the patients were so solemn before the procedure, so sure that their loved one wouldn't make it out with a pulse. Roger felt the need to say something, anything but nothing came to mind. Nick unbuttoned his shirt and set it on a dresser.
"I don't want to stress you out any more than you already are but I have to be sure- you do know what you're doing, don't you? I mean you did say you didn't know what you were looking for initially and I just want to make sure you can do this. It's okay if you can't, I can find someb-"
"I know what I'm doing Nick, I was just being a pain in the ass before. But I do have to ask you something that you didn't answer before. Did you want to come back as a third generation synth?"
Nick sat down on the operating table, which was nothing more than a glorified single bed, and gripped the edges as tight as he could. He had thought about it before, but never really thought he'd have the chance to have such a new upgrade. He looked at himself; pale silicone-like skin almost transparent from years of wear, exposed wires and rods, a hardly impressive frame. As a third gen he would look like anyone else, almost human, he would fit in finally. But would he still be Nick Valentine or a faceless, nameless synth? He sat there for a while, taking deep breaths, the cold from the old building sending shivers through him. Roger chewed on a cuticle, half impatient, half worried. It didn't matter to him, he would be Nick Valentine any way he ended up.
Nick finally looked at Roger and nodded, "I'm ready, do what you have to do." Roger forced a smile, sure it looked far from genuine. "Alright, Nick, just lay back and take some deep breaths, you'll be better in no time. Nick lie back and shivered, he was cold, sure, but terrified more than he'd ever been. Roger slid a screwdriver into the panel on the side of Nick's head and popped it open. "Here we go, Nick, I'll see you on the other side. 10… 9…8…" Roger punched in a code that would put Nick in a coma-like stasis and continued counting down from ten, like he'd seen on those medical shows. Nick saw the ceiling lights dim above him but he focused on Roger's face until his vision went black. Then he was gone as far as he was concerned. Roger finally let a tear escape, breathing heavily, he held the very fabric of his best friend's life in his hands and he was petrified. He hadn't been lying, he knew what to do, but that didn't make the task any easier.