Chapter 8: I Just Can't Wait to be King

Early next morning, James was awakened by X6-88. Only after several mutterances of profanity, some of which the synth had never heard before, did he roll over and groggily glare in the courser's direction. The empty bottle of scotch next to him provided some clue as to his current displeasure with consciousness.

"X6, it's six in the morning. I love your enthusiasm for work, but can we try again in like two hours?" Flopping back on the bed, he placed a pillow over his face. Beneath the pillow came the muffled complaint of "and turn the lights off on your way out. Too damn bright."

X6-88 looked down at the petulant man attempting to hide from the world under a drool-stained pillow. "Sir, the directorate wishes to speak with you. They said it was urgent." An overly dramatic sigh came from James. Removing the pillow and sitting up, he grumbled,

"I'm going to kill the egghead that woke me for a meeting."

–

"Director Shaun passed away during the night."

James sat in the chair facing the other leaders of the Institute. His eyes widened at the news. His mouth opened and closed trying to get a coherent sentence out. The only response he could manage was a simple "What?".

Dr. Li gave him a second to process the information before carefully proceeding. "I'm very sorry for your loss. He was a father to the Institute, but he was your son. He was an excellent man and will be well missed."

Allie Filmore placed a folded white lab coat on the table. "I know this is difficult for you, but we do need to talk about what happens next. It was Father's request that you become the next Director, which you already know. As a symbolic gesture, he also left you his lab coat. In addition, there's the matter of his body. Typically, we cremated our dead, but..." She trailed off.

James took the lab coat with unsteady hands. Gently, he ran his thumb of the slightly frayed stitching that read 'Director'. After a moment of the contemplation, he looked up. "He should be laid to rest in Vault 111. Next to his mother." Seeing the hesitation on their faces, James frowned. "He was my son before he was your director. Shaun was taken from his mother at the start of his life; let him return to her at end of it."

Allie sighed. "Give us a day and we'll have you both teleported to Vault 111."

James stood and nodded. "Thank you. I'll back within 48 hours."

"What are you doing? The Institute needs to start the transition -"

"The Institute can survive without me for two days. Shaun played an important role, but he didn't manage the day-to-day tasks of the place. If you truly feel the need for my input, here it is: Give all non-essential people the next two days off. Those who take care of keeping the place fed, powered, and medicated are to fulfill their core duties and then relax." Ordered James. Sounds of protest came from those sitting at the table. "Shaun was important to everybody. Everybody needs time to grieve."

"You still haven't said what you're doing and where you're going."

"I need to send word to the nearby settlements that I will be taking a reduced role for the next few weeks and that my right-hand people need to step up." With a heavy sigh, James made his way towards the door. "Everyone needs time to grieve, myself included."

Deacon wasn't sure what he was going to find when he left the room, but he certainly didn't expect scene in front of him.

Normalcy.

Desdemona was inspecting a large map of the common that covered a wall. A map which features notes about locations and warning of dangers which their previous one lacked. On the other side of the room, Tinker Tom and Drummer Boy were enjoying a game of pool. Judging from Drummer Boy's expression, he was losing. Glory was reclining on a red sofa with her feet resting on a coffee table, snacking on potato chips. Deacon strolled over and unceremoniously flopped down next to her. Leaning over, he stole one of her chips and popped it in his mouth.

"So" He said, crunching on the chip, "What happened last night?"

She raised an eyebrow. "You don't remember?"

"Of course I remember! I just love hearing others talk about my awesome exploits and adventures." This earned him a roll of Glory's eyes.

"Maybe if you hadn't drank so much you would be able to others yourself."

"Aww, now where's the fun in that, Glory?" She slapped away Deacon's hand as he tried to steal another potato chips.

"The 'fun' is in not spending an entire day passed out. After you guys destroyed the base, James wanted to – in his own words- 'celebrate the memory of the base where I've met some of my best friends and my favorite stalker'. Apparently, this means drinking and drugs. Among other things."

"Other things?"

"I didn't ask. What to grown men do that result in them coming back sticky, drunk, and mostly unconscious is their business. Not mine."

Deacon didn't get a chance to respond before being interrupted by a familiar voice.

"Honey, I'm home!" Greeted James to room before looking at Deacon. "Did you miss me?"