With a hiss of hydraulics the domed lid of the lounger opened, the monitor flickering off and returning John to reality. He grimaced, his mouth was dry and his limbs stiff. How long had he been in there? It shouldn't have been that long, but then again it was impossible to tell the time in tranquillity lane, and he hadn't wanted to ask Braun...or Betty...or whatever that nutjob wanted to call himself.

Swinging his legs over John jumped down on the steel floor, a worried glance telling him that his equipment and pack still lay by the foot of the lounger. Crouching low he pulled the weapons to him, practised hands checking the mechanism to see if the robobrains had messed with them, just to be safe.

Tranquillity lane had been...an odd place. To play the little games with...Braun...had been a filthy business, but then again, he would rather kill some people's simulated selves a thousand times then following that old lady's request and risk attracting Braun's anger. One didn't anger God after all...especially one that most certainly existed...and liked to make people suffer. Of course he could feel some sympathy for the people stuck there, to be constantly tortured by a maniac...never truly dying...there were better fates.

Meh, at least he had gotten what he wanted.

Even as the thought entered John's head he heard the soft steps of James...his father...approaching. Wow...it was happening. He took a nervous breath...slowly straightening and letting his assault rifle hang limply by his side he waited. His legs refused to move anyway...he swallowed.

Then the man came round the corner, stopping at the sight of him. John just stood there, drinking in the sight.

James hadn't changed much, his hair and beard was still grey, his square jaw and his eyes still the same like his son...he was still half an inch taller than John. Nothing had really changed in him, perhaps that the jumpsuit was torn and stained by dirt...

The man cocked his head to the side, forehead creasing into a frown. He doesn't recognise... "Do I..." James' eyes widened. "J...John?" His father took half a step backwards, that hurt... "Son?" He took a step forward, squinting. Then his face brightened into a smile. "Son!"

"Hi dad." John muttered, he felt...cold.

"Son!" His father rushed forward, arms held out wide. A single blow to the nose and....the thought disappeared when the warm arms closed around him, pulling him off the floor and holding him tight. Still...the grip wasn't half as strong as John remembered, had father gotten sick? Didn't look that way... "Oh God...what are you doing here?"

John didn't answer, hanging where he did he meekly pushed his free hand out and closed it around his father's back, gently patting it. He wasn't sure what to do, or what he was supposed to feel. He had found his father...found him at last...he swallowed, an odd pain within his chest.

"Why...?" James grip tightened while he whispered in John's ear, his voice shaking with emotion. "Why are you here? You should be in the vault...where it's safe! Why...why did you come?"

"Why do you think!?" John suddenly exploded and pushed away, knocking his father back into the lounger further away, the grimace of pain was nothing compared to the look of shock in his father's eyes. John didn't look away though. "To find you! You left without a word! Without any explanation besides a stupid 'trust me'!" John raised his assault rifle, flipping off the safety on pure instinct...James recoiled in shock. "You think you left me in safety!? With a crazed dictator and his goons!? They killed Jonas!" James looked away, a look of pain crossing his face. "And then they tried to kill me!"

"Son I..."

John tossed his weapon aside, instead closing in on his father with closed fists, spitting in rage as he continued: "But I guess such a scenario never crossed your brilliant mind, did it!? You were too busy fawning over your little project! It's your one true love isn't it! So it wasn't that bad if you had to sacrifice me!?" James stood perfectly still as John closed a hand around his collar, his face unreadable all of a sudden. "What else did you sacrifice!? You've certainly not been honest! So maybe you sacrificed mom! Maybe you let her catch a bullet so you could continue your work!?"

"I..."

"You had been outside! You lied!" John push upwards, cutting off his father's reply as he hoisted him into the air, drawing a surprised gasp from him. "Then you left me to fend for myself! I've almost died a hundred times over! But did you think about that!? No! All your thought about was some fucking water! Water of all things! What do you have to say for yourself!?"

"I..." James hands shot up to grab John's wrist, easing the grip on his throat. "I wanted to help..."

"Well aren't you the fucking messiah." John snorted, though the words lacked strength. He dropped James, the man doubling over as he gasped for air. Stepping back John felt drained all of a sudden. "And I guess mother felt the same way..." He leant back, coming to rest against the lounger behind him, his hands were shaking...

"Yes." Was the soft reply, his father was looking at him...but John couldn't bear to look back. "And I didn't lie about her...she did die giving birth to you...only it happened over in the Jefferson memorial. And she loved you very much..." John bit his teeth down, fighting a choking sound from escaping him. "And I left so quickly because I knew the overseer would clamp down on the place...I hoped it would keep you from following."

"Lots of good..." John took a deep breath, his chest heaving as his breath came in small explosions. "...that did."

"I did not realize the overseer would be so violent...and for that...I'm sorry."

"You shouldn't have left."

"I had to." John looked up to see his father struggle for words, his hands moving in empty gestures as they were wont to do...God...it hadn't been long ago since the arms moved like that while James explained some detail in medicine...John felt his throat tighten. "If I can make clean water I'll save so many lives...I can't just-"

John shot forward, this time he didn't grip his father by the throat though, this time he came low...arms wrapping themselves around James' sides, face pushing into the soft jumpsuit. "You should have taken me with you!" He pressed his face further into the chest of the man, realising with surprise that he was crying. "Or not leave at all!"

"I'm...sorry." A hand came to rest on John's shoulder, another stroking his hair. "I couldn't risk you...I wanted you to be safe."

John laughed, a pained succession of small bursts of air. He was crying freely now, a sad son seeking comfort in his father..."N...nothing is safe." Where had the years gone? John felt as if he was twelve again...it hurt more then it had any right to do. "Yo...you're not safe!"

"I suppose you're right." His father's voice was soft, comforting, as he'd know it would be... The stroking of his hair didn't stop, soothing him. "But I was willing to risk myself...not you." He sighed, a hint of weariness in his tone. "I didn't want to hurt you, I hope you understand that?"

"Y...yes." John grimaced into the jumpsuit, his voice was so weak all of a sudden...

Then he felt the hands on his shoulders, pushing him back. He let it happen, let father put him on an arm's length so the man could get a good look on him. The face looking back at him was concerned, sad...almost that of a stranger. "Son...are you okay?"

John frowned, the question seemed odd for some reason...what did he mean? Wiping his nose with his sleeve John smiled. "I am, now." He looked around them, feeling drained to the bone and not having the strength to go on with the subject...how had he gotten so weak all of a sudden? "So what now? I had only planed so far as to find you...now I don't know what to do." He couldn't conceal the fear in his voice, he needed a task...a goal of some kind. Without it...what was he supposed to do?

James squared his shoulders, hesitated, then spoke: "I need to get back to Rivet city, talk to doctor Li and get to Jefferson memorial." He frowned. "I have enough information to get the project working again...I know it can work." The need in the voice was oddly familiar...John grimaced. "All I need is to get the project up working again, a GECK...and some time." His eyes became distant, dreaming. "Pure water for everyone...can you imagine it?"

"What's a GECK?" John asked, his tone a little too dry for his own liking. This was not his quest...not his dream, he felt nothing for it. Yet if his father asked...he would help. It was a little annoying.

"The Garden of Eden Creation Kit...a remarkable piece of technology, finding one might prove problematic...but that's a problem for later." James chuckled, a genuine smile on his lips as he took a step forward and placed a hand on John's shoulder. "Right now I need to get to Rivet city, get the ball running again." His smile faded a little, becoming wary. "And it would be an honour if you'd come to work besides me."

John hesitated. This was not his thing...nothing he burned for. Water was what it was...a little radaway at times and you could eat and drink whatever you wanted, he knew others had trouble with that...the suffering of some...but what did that concern him? Nova...the distant memory jolted John out of his reluctance. "Of course I'll help...dad."

James' face broke into a wide grin. "Excellent! Father and son, working together! I had dreamt of that since you assisted me back in the clinic. And for such a noble cause...your mother would be proud." They shared a silent moment. Then James shrugged, casting aside whatever dark thought had assaulted his mind. "If you have something with you you should get it now, I want to leave this horrible place as soon as possible." He shot the silent loungers a wary look.

"Sure thing." John reached down to pick up his gear...and heard James gasp. Looking up he saw his father's wide eyes focused on the stuff on the floor. "What?" John followed his father's gaze...to the assault rifle. Hadn't he even seen it before when John had held it? Maybe it hadn't fully registered? "You got a better gun than this?"

James held out his weapon, a lousy revolver that was almost completely covered in rust. John grimaced, how had he survived using that? "No...how did you get all of that!?"

John sensed it wasn't the question his father wanted to ask, he shrugged. "Some looting, some buying, nothing interesting." He pulled up the black combat armour, trying to ignore the second gasp escaping his father, still...better sooth any worry. "Oh and don't worry, this was definitively looted."

"Oh..." What an odd tone in his voice...for some reason it irritated John. "...good."

"Right." John straightened, having put the armour up over his jumpsuit and with his weapons and pack where it should he was ready. "Lets get going then?"

"Yes...lets..."