It was like the whole world had changed while Tate slept. Well, not really. The Wasteland was still full of shitty people doing shitty things poorly, but now they had water and hope and he thought for a second that maybe it had been all worth it. He couldn't save his Pop and he couldn't save Charon and he had to punch his best friend in the face until he blacked out and locked his other best friend below ground forever, but it was okay.

The Brotherhood of Steel wanted him to take on another fucking mission but he sure as shit wasn't interested. He completed Pop's work even though he didn't know anything about science or medicine or purification shit. All he knew were three numbers that his Pop wouldn't let him forget.

In the time it took for Butch to make the trip from Rivet City back to the Citadel, Tate tried to find a way to apologize. He sincerely hoped he hadn't fucked up Butch's face too bad. When he finally showed up in the doorway of Tate's sickroom, Butch looked out of breath and gorgeous and Tate kissed him until they nearly drowned.

Butch cried, ugly, messy tears streaming down his face. And so did Tate, so neither of them spoke about it again.

On the trip from the Citadel to Megaton, they lost a half-day of travel time messing around in an abandoned shack like it was one of the supply closets back in the vault, like their only worry was security down the hall and not raiders up their asses. Butch tasted better and better every time.

Megaton was still a shithole, so there was that. Only now it was a shithole with clean water running through the taps. Still, it wasn't the Citadel so it held some appeal.

Butch took Tate's heavy pack and headed up to Gob's to get them a room. He had been fussing over Tate since he woke up and the blond was a little unsure if he was supposed to be flattered or insulted.

With just his light pack around his hips, Tate headed for the Brass Lantern to see if they had any cigarettes. If Butch could fuss so could Tate.

"Didn't think you were the type to take up the habit, Tate."

Whipping his head around, Tate caught sight of the source of the voice, Officer Gomez. Yeah, right, Amata had decided to open the vault. That was months ago now. She would have ...didn't matter, Tate was exiled and probably deserved it too for the stunts he pulled.

"They're not for me." He tossed the pack into his light bag. "What are you doing out here?" Officer Gomez hadn't struck him as the adventuring type.

Officer Gomez pulled out the seat next to him at the bar as an obvious invitation for Tate to sit next to him. Having no where else to be at the moment, he took the seat. Butch would come after him if he needed anything. Being around someone else from the vault was more unnerving than Tate was expecting, but Officer Gomez had never hated him too much.

"We're looking into moving the vault residents out, at least to handle resources better. We heard what you did at the purifier, and I volunteered to go investigate. By my reckoning it doesn't look too bad."

Tate nodded and gestured for Jenny to bring him a beer.

"Yeah, I dunno. I guess you guys gotta make that decision. Amata is real smart though. Just give her the evidence and she'll make the right choice."

Tate couldn't help but think he had fucked up so badly after leaving the vault because he didn't have Amata keeping his ass out of trouble.

Beer didn't taste quite the same now as it had before. Strange, the things that were different before and after taking a massive, supposedly fatal rad dose. Still, he finished it anyway in a couple of long gulps. Faster it went down, less he had to taste it.

"The people here seem real nice," Officer Gomez's posture suggested he was a little tipsy and a lot relaxed in Tate's presence. "I disarmed that bomb at the center of town. The one those weirdos worship. In return they gave me this house. Hell of a thing. Tried to turn it down, but that sheriff wouldn't let me. Oh, Butch!"

"Officer Gomez."

While there wasn't a ton of strain back in the vault between Tate and Officer Gomez, the same couldn't be said about Butch. The brunet didn't have the luxury of Amata to keep him out of the worst of it. It was blatant favoritism really. Run around with the Overseer's daughter and people think better of you.

Butch had come up behind Tate's seat, putting one hand on either side of the backrest and leaning forward slightly. It was a protective gesture, like he didn't trust Officer Gomez.

"You look good, Butch. When I heard you left I assumed the worst. Hey, why don't we head over there." Officer Gomez sat up a little straighter, "I mean to the house. It'll be more comfortable than these chairs, no offense, Jenny."

"What?" Jenny called from across the bar. She hadn't heard.

The angle Butch adopted meant his chest rubbed just against The back of Tate's head.

"I guess so, you don't mind, do you Butch?" It was a courtesy, asking Butch like this. Even if he said no, Tate would still go if it pleased him.

The three followed the ramps up to the house that Officer Gomez had been gifted.

"They asked me to disarm that thing too. But I couldn't figure it out." From the higher ground Tate had a better view of the giant, lifeless bomb. He left out the part about being offered the opportunity to detonate it too.

"Wasn't easy, but I figured I'd give it a shot." Officer Gomez turned the key and the door swung open. He let Butch and Tate enter first.

"Ah! My good Sir, you have returned!" Robots, why did it always have to be robots?

"Hey, Wadsworth. This is Tate and Butch, they're friends of mine, so treat them nice, okay?"

Officer Gomez started shrugging off his armored vest and the two younger men sat side by side on the couch, just a sliver of space between them. Enough that it looked proper.

"Hey, Officer Gomez," Tate eyed Wadsworth suspiciously. "This robot, it doesn't have any security features, does it?"

"Far as I can tell it's the same as the Mr. Handy units in the vault. I'm no expert though."

Tate stared at the thing until it stared back. Slowly, cautiously, he lifted up his sunglasses. When the robot didn't react and just whirred in place, he exhaled and took the glasses off, tucking them in the front of his vault suit.

"So, you boys want something to drink?"

"Beer's fine," Butch mumbled.

"Two." Tate remembered the cigarettes for Butch and pulled them from his bag, passing them over.

Officer Gomez returned from the other room with three beers, setting them on the table and sitting across from the other two. "Please not inside, Butch."

Tate didn't miss the edge to Officer Gomez's voice. Clearly he was the guest here and Butch was the auxiliary. Buy one vault delinquent get one free!

As soon as he had said it, Officer Gomez was all smiles again. "I still indulge myself, now and again. But I'm not planning on keeping the house for myself. I'm going to give it to Freddie."

The house was nice, real nice. From what Tate could see, it wasn't much different from Simms's or Burke's. Those were the only private homes he had been in other than Moira's, which was obviously significantly bigger because it had the store attached. There was a workbench in the corner and what looked like bedrooms upstairs. Yeah, nice was the way to describe it.

"Didn't think Freddie would want to leave the vault." Tate reclined on the couch, his knees bumping into the coffee table. He'd slide off if he wasn't careful.

"Nah, he's got to get out. He's got VDS." How Butch knew that, Tate wasn't entirely sure. Maybe he had confided in Butch, but like the rest of them, Freddie wasn't really the sharing type. Tate didn't miss the concerned look on Officer Gomez's face.

"Well he's doing very well nowadays. I guess you wouldn't know," He perked up. I'm a grandad!" Well shit, Officer Gomez looked pretty fucking proud of himself for that one. "They're a bit young and all, and I didn't even know he was with Amata until she was already a ways along..."

Shit. Shit. Fuck. Shit. No. No. No.

Shit.

Butch had tensed up beside him.

"Oh, don't be so judgmental, boys. I know Amata and you were close, Tate, but you know Freddie will be good to her."

"So wait, when you say you're going to give the house to Freddie." The waver in Butch's voice would only be noticeable to the attuned.

"I figure now that there's clean water on the surface, it would be nice for them to raise little Clara above ground. Of course, it's so close to the vault, they'll have the option."

Fuck, fuck, this would ruin everything. Tate promised Butch. It was a shitty promise, making Amata stay in the vault. But he got the reasoning. He could fix this. He could fix this.

"You boys staying in town tonight? Yes? good, why don't I get you another beer and I'm sure what you've been up to is more interesting than what I've got to offer." He stood, taking their empty bottles with him.

"Butch," Tate grabbed his friend's arm and squeezed. "I'll fix this."

Butch's blue eyes got wide but there was no time to respond, Officer Gomez was already back.

"Hey, Officer, mind showing me around the place? I've actually not seen the inside of these houses before, just the bars and stuff."

"Sure, sure is different than the vault, eh? But I suppose you've seen lots of places."

Tate took his beer in his hand and followed Officer Gomez to see the kitchen first. Butch remained rooted on the couch, turned away from the both of them. What was going through his mind, Tate could only imagine. It wasn't like Butch was in love with Amata or anything, but yeah, probably was a real shitty way to hear the good news that your kid was safe, but might end up a whole lot less safe. Probably never expected to hear anything about his kid when Tate made that decision for him and freed him from the vault. Nah, Freddie would be a good dad, a good dad underground in the goddamn safe as hell vault.

"Why don't you show me upstairs, Officer Gomez?"

Having to come up with a plan super quick wasn't exactly playing to Tate's strengths. Punching Officer Gomez in the face wasn't going to cut it. Besides, he had seen the security officer in action a year ago when he bolted from the vault in the first place. Above average accuracy, but really fucking quick on the draw. Not stronger than him or Butch though. They could probably scare him pretty well. But no, they couldn't be implicated in this. It would get back to Amata and she would be fucking disappointed in the both of them.

Tate settled on drugging Officer Gomez, yeah, that would do it. Get him knocked out then they would leave him safely locked up in a shack or something. Already being drunk, he'd probably forget what happened and stumble back to the vault a little more cautious. Amata would freak out and just stay in her goddamn hole. This was a great plan.

There was Med-X in his light pack that he had intended to use as trade. Shit was as good as caps. Like, five or six should do the trick. Just had to get Gomez to let his guard down. If he shoved it into his leg real quick he'd be out before he knew what hit him. He'd seen his Pop inject Med-X into people's legs before, left them all loopy.

Officer Gomez led the way upstairs. Tate purposefully avoided looking at Butch. Whatever expression he wore, Tate didn't want to deal with it right now. It was probably some shade of pissed off, although about what, well, there were a lot of things to be upset about.

The bedroom was small and tidy and had a door. Good. That would keep the robot from seeing. Mr. Handys might not have been for combat, but he would still try to defend his master if he got wind of what was happening.

"Herman..."

Officer Gomez looked taken aback when Tate closed the door behind them.

"I lied, I didn't want a tour of the house." Tate took the tab of Gomez's vault suit between his fingers and played with it, but didn't pull, not yet.

"Tate, what are you doing?"

"You've always been so good to me, Herman."

Officer Gomez was tall, tall enough that Tate had to rise up on the balls of his feet to press a first, deceptively innocent kiss to the side of his mouth. The way Gomez responded betrayed his drunkenness. Wobbly on his feet and more receptive to Tate's advances than he should have been. Maybe Pepper hadn't been putting out.

"Let me be good to you now, okay?" Still feigning innocence, Tate bit his bottom lip as he slowly worked the zipper of Gomez's suit. He had to be the aggressor, but not aggressive. If he came on too strong it would raise red flags.

He could hear Butch's footsteps on the stairs, but he didn't open the door.

When the zipper reached Gomez's navel, Tate dropped to his knees in front of the older man, pressing his hands on his stomach but venturing no lower. Dance carefully.

"I wanna, so bad...but you have to show me what you like."

"What's wrong with you, Tate?" From the way Gomez's breath rose and fell through his chest, Tate could feel the palpitations of his conflict. Half the battle was knowing your position and exploiting it. Tate knew this, knew what buttons to press to make enemies falter.

"This is wrong, isn't it? Wanting you. Can't help it." He let his breath settle on Gomez's abdomen. "I wanna know what it's like." He finished pulling down the zipper.

When Gomez's hands ended up in his hair, Tate knew he was drunk enough or stupid enough to buy into Tate's act. Still had to get him out of the vault suit though.

Tate's hands dipped into Gomez's underwear, freeing his cock to the cool air of the Megaton home. He was only half hard, but that would be enough to get started on. This was shit he was good at. And he fucking enjoyed it too. Even though this was mostly a business transaction, Tate couldn't help but harden at the sight.

Feigning inexperience, Tate took the barest tip of Gomez's cock into his mouth, running his tongue over the head and then withdrawing before looking up and trying to catch the security officer's eyes. He approached again, this time throating a more significant fraction, choking a little, then pulling off. Gomez groaned and thrust forward, chasing Tate's mouth.

There had to be a faster way to get Gomez out of his suit, though Tate was kind of enjoying himself. Standing, Tate pulled down his own zipper and ripped his arms out of his sleeves as fast as he could before crashing his mouth into Gomez's. The older man responded rapidly, wrapping his arms around Tate's waist and kissing back fervently.

"Mmm, Freddie."

Shit, weird, fucking weird. Why the fuck was everyone's fathers so fucked up? Fuck.

Roll with it.

"Daddy," Tate gasped in between wet, open mouthed kisses. "Take me to bed, Daddy."

Gomez grabbed hold of Tate's thighs and wrapped them around his torso before carrying him to bed, their lips locked together the whole time. One of Gomez's hands tangled in the hair at the back of Tate's neck.

Now that Tate was safely deposited in the bed, Gomez ground their hips together through the fabric of Tate's jumpsuit. His cock was fully hard now and pressing against Tate's groin, but he still hadn't taken off the damn jumpsuit. Gomez's hand slipped between their bodies and started rubbing against Tate's erection. Well, clearly handjobs weren't in Gomez's skill set.

"Daddy, wanna see you, please." Tate managed to pull the jumpsuit off of Gomez's shoulders, but couldn't get the arms off while he was supporting himself over Tate's body.

Gomez groaned and shifted his weight so he knelt between Tate's thighs. He'd have to stand to get the legs off. Tate's light pack was still strapped at his hip. He danced his fingertips over Gomez's chest as a sign of encouragement. Come on, old man, all the way.

"Freddie, we shouldn't..." Gomez's resolve was wavering. Or maybe it wasn't. Sicko here still called him by his son's name.

Tate pulled himself up onto his elbows and caught Gomez's eyes. He could do this, he was good at this. "But I've been a good boy, haven't I?"

That broke Gomez. He was on his feet and stripping off his vault suit. Tate undressed in bed as well, covertly slipping out the first syringe in the process and hiding it in his palm. The pack with the rest of the Med-X was pushed to the ground along with his vault suit, the zipper on the pouch still open for access.

Gomez slotted his naked hips between Tate's legs and that was all Tate needed. A flick of his finger uncapped the needle and with Gomez drunkenly rubbing his cock against the curve of his ass, Tate stabbed him hard in the side of his ass and depressed the syringe.

"Fuck!" Gomez was more shocked than anything else.

Tate rolled onto his side best he could given his hips we're locked around Gomez's and grabbed another syringe, emptying that one as well.

Two doses of Med-X had dulled Gomez's reaction times, that was for sure. Another second and the security officer started falling forward onto Tate. Instead, Tate pushed him backwards off the bed and he landed on the floor with a thud and a dull groan. Scrambling, Tate got three more doses in his fist and stabbed Gomez with all of them at once, pounding down the tops with his opposite palm. Quiet now, Tate was satisfied that he had knocked Gomez out for a good long while.

Tate opened the bedroom door and Butch was on the other side, leaning against the railing.

"What were you even doing?" Butch was pissed, but that was nothing new. He was always pissed when Tate fucked around with other guys, even when it was for Butch's sake.

"I knocked him out with a bunch of Med-X, figured we could stick him in some shack or something, he wakes up, sacred, not remembering anything, tells Amata it's way too dangerous out here. Problem solved."

"Why are you naked?"

Tate looked down, right, naked. "Had to get him out of his clothes to stab him with the Med-X. Couldn't be like 'hey officer, roll up your sleeve so I can drug you, kay? Thanks a bunch!'"

"I never know if you're a genius or an idiot, Tate."

"Yeah, neither do I. Guess I better get dressed. We gotta find a way to carry him out of here unnoticed." Tate turned back into the room to get his jumpsuit; Butch took the opportunity to slap his ass.

"I'll go find a way to turn off that robot. Might get hostile if it sees its master carried out like a sack of potatoes."

Butch headed downstairs while Tate got dressed. Once he was decent, he checked Gomez's pockets for the house keys. He wouldn't be needing them anymore and it would be a shame for the house to remain unoccupied. It was nice.

"Okay, robot problem solved. And it's pretty dark outside. It's as good of a chance we're gonna get."

Tate started pulling the sheets off the bed to wrap Gomez in. They would have to look out for Simms and other residents, but with some careful timing, they'd be able to make it outside the settlement walls.

"Nosebleed...how much Med-X did you shoot him with?"

"Dunno, like six?"

"...He's dead."

"Fuck no." Tate dropped the bundled bed sheets and they floated to the floor like a deflating cloud.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure you killed him."

Well, it hadn't been intentional, so there was that. Butch sat on the floor next to Gomez's corpse and lit a cigarette.

"Well, he did call me Freddie when he thought he was gonna fuck me."

"Too much information, Nosebleed." Butch scowled at the body, kicking it lightly with his outstretched foot. They still had to get it out of here. "What is it with you and killing people's dads?"

"Dunno, worried you might be next?" Tate smirked.

Butch laughed, but it was a bitter one.