Disclaimer: I do NOT own Fallout 4 or it's characters. The Fallout series belongs to Bethesda. This is a nonprofit fanfiction written purely for enjoyment. Enjoy.
Author's Note: I read the reviews, I'll never apologise for a Batman reference.
Act I - All-American Nightmare
Chapter V
The head of each department of the Institute gathered into one room for their weekly briefing. The best and the brightest the Institute had to offer sat at one long table eager to solve whatever problems as one mind, reminiscent of the Knights of the Round Table. Father, undoubtedly their King Arthur, sat at the end of table, like a king should. His long, bony fingers absent-mindedly stroked his grey bearded mane as he listened to each directorate give a brief status update about their respective departments. When they were all finished they could move onto the topic they have been all dreading.
"Moving on the the discussion of whom the top-siders are calling the 'War-Machine"'.
Silence descended on the table like a wet blanket. Opinions were mixed on this discussion, mixing as well as oil and water. Father knew his subjects well enough to know some sort of argument was coming.
"What do we care about those knuckle-dragging, mouth-breathing savages do to each other?" One doctor asked, zero sympathy in his voice. As cold as it sounded, there were some in the Institute that shared this opinion. The Institute didn't bother with the surface if it didn't further serve their own goals, they weren't going to start now.
"It's not about what they do to each other, it's what they'll do to us," Another doctor countered.
"It's highly unlikely that this ape could connect us to what's going on," The first doctor shot back. Father only watched them bicker back and forth. Everyone in the room knew ultimately it would be his decision, so he waited for his trusted advisors to explain their points so that he could make a fair decision. "Even if he could, it's even more improbable that he could infiltrate our facility."
An awkward silence blanketed the room again, Father used this time to interject with his question.
"In your own calculations, could you say with complete certainty that our facility couldn't be compromised?"
All of the heads turned to the Acting-Director of the Synth Retention Bureau Justin Ayo, eager for his answer. Justin Ayo, much to their dismay, shook his head with a solemn glance. Father continued.
"Then it is our responsibility to take the necessary preparations to ensure we don't get caught with our proverbial pants down in our own house."
A light sparked in Madison Li's head. "Maybe that's not a bad idea," she said to herself, but all of heads in the room turned to hear her solution. "We could invite him to a nuetral spot and explain ourselves." The doctor didn't need to look at the faces of her asscioates to tell they didn't like her idea. She only looked to Father, the one in the room whose opinion mattered. Her eyes scanned his face for any sort of emotional response, but there was none. Father was good at keeping his cards close to his chest.
"You want to break bread with our enemy?" Ayo shot back.
"Potential enemy," countered Li. "He doesn't even know we exist yet."
Another department head butt in, looking for a resolution that didn't directly incorporate the Institute. "We could out him, his identity I mean. Let the savages take care of it."
Li shook her head. "Recent surveys show that the War-Machine is gaining popularity, like some kind of people's champion."
Father absorbed all the information in the room. Everyone was bringing up fair points, even if they did come from a place of fear. He understood it though, this was the first time in the Institute's long history that anyone dared challenge them, directly or indirectly. The insistent reporter had fallen to the bottom of their list of worries.
"Diplomacy?" Father asked, and when his voice was spoken all the other banter stopped. Heads eagerly turned his way in unison, looking to his experienced mind for answers they couldn't come up with on their own. "Do you think it'll work, Dr. Li?"
Li felt the blood rush to her cheeks as all the attention was placed on her, again. Father reminded her of another scientist she used to have feelings for. At least this one wasn't an alcoholic. "I spent most of my life topside," Li reminded the group. "They aren't all savages, or apes. I think it's worth a shot."
Ayo, among others, was wary of this choice. "He could be an asset to the Institute if he's properly tamed," Justin Ayo admitted.
Li attempted to shrug the responsibility off of herself, in the likely event she was wrong in her assessment. "If all else fails, we still have Kellogg."
Father didn't think it needed to come to that, or rather didn't want it to, but for the sake of the Institute he needed to keep all options open. His secret trump card was his shared DNA with the vigilante, but he wouldn't be foolish enough to risk the lives of every man, woman and baby in the Institute over this claim.
Nick Valentine thought the cesspool of a settlement known as Goodneighbor would grow on him a little each time he came, but he was painfully aware that it was just wishful thinking on his part. Residents were lighting up right in the middle of the street, regardless of who was around. No one seemed bothered by Nick being there, he was confident some people weren't even sure they saw them, or anything.
One settler stopped in front of Nick with a wide grin on his face. "Woah, I must be higher than I thought," he chuckled to himself. He leaned in uncomfortably close, further investigating Nick's appearance.
"Boo," Nick said calmly.
The settler fell onto his bottom with a thud. His initial expression resembled fear, but it melted away into amusement. "Far out man," the guy chuckled to himself as Nick walked away.
One more man stopped Nick before he could reach his required destination, this interaction wasn't as pleasant as the other. He tried to sell Nick drugs, oblivious to his current synthetic body. The detectives only response was to remove his hat so that he could clearly see Nick's features in the open light.
The dealer seemed taken back back, and then dissolved into puzzlement. "You're that synth detective I've been hearin' about, aren't ya?"
Nick wanted to roll his eyes as he placed the hat back on his head. "What a deduction, are you sure you're not the detective?"
The snarky remark was lost on the dealer. His eyes sparkled with an idea that just crossed his mind. He asked Nick to deal for him. When Nick refused he tried to explain that Nick would be the best dealer, because there wasn't a chance that he could get hooked on his own product. Looking around, Nick could tell that was an obvious problem they were having.
"Valentine," A familiar voice cut into their conversation. It belonged to none other than Hancock, the mayor of Goodneighbor.
Nick caught up with Hancock, leaving the unpleasant conversation behind him. It was the exact person, or ghoul rather, that he was looking for.
"What do I owe this pleasant visit to?" Hancock mused as they walked through the street. "Or are you here to stomp out of here again?"
"I need some information," Nick stated matter-of-fact like.
Hancock folded his arms across his chest. "And here I thought that you were here to admire my beautiful face."
Nick pressed on, ignoring the ghoul mayors sense of humor. "Any of your lot have a baby, maybe one that doesn't quite belong to them?"
A look flashed over Hancock's scarred face, one that told Nick every thing he needed to know. It was a geniune look of confusion. It wasn't necessarily a dead end, but it was only helpful in the sense that it was one less thread to pull on.
The look was all a seasoned detective needed, he turned, ready to leave when Hancock pulled him back in just as quick.
"I know a guy," The words stopped Nick Valentine dead in his tracks. Was he bluffing? What did he have to gain from lying? Maybe he was just toying with him. "But you already owe me one."
Nick arched his artificial eye brow in surprise. "For what?"
"For not telling that girlie your secret during our interview," His burned lips pursed into a smirk. Nick Valentine wasn't playing his game before, but would have to now. "She doesn't know, right?"
"No, no she doesn't." Nick planned on keeping it that way.
"It would be a shame if someone just happened to slip your girlfriend your past."
"She wouldn't believe you," Nick shook his head in response. He was only half confident.
Hancock shrugged, he was probably right. "She's a smart girl. I leave an anonymous tip, let her follow the breadcrumbs herself."
There wasn't any way of properly determining whether he was bluffing or not. If he wasn't, it still wouldn't have been the worst thing Hancock has ever done, nor the last. Nick grumbled to himself, already regretting what he was about to say.
"What do you want?"
The ghouls smirk twisted into a sick grin, followed by a hearty laugh. He had won. "That's what I want to hear."
Nick waited with an impassive face for his new set of orders, but it didn't hide the growing impatience he felt. Had it not been a baby at stake, Nick probably wouldn't have taken the bait.
The days grew longer as the Commonwealth entered the early months of summer, and with it the heat. During his interview with Piper she had asked him what he missed about the old world, to avoid talking about the loss of his wife he jokingly offered air conditioning. Days like this made it less of a joke. The best Abel could do to combat the heat was open the all the doors and windows in the Red Rocket, otherwise the truck stop became the wrong kind of hot box. Abel cursed himself under his breath for choosing this particular day to weld together parts for his power armor.
An old radio that Abel salvaged from Sanctuary Hills carried tunes from the Old World through the halls of the Red Rocket. Abel hummed softly to the music, but he didn't really know the words. Truth be told he didn't much care for the songs it played, but Nora used to like them. Abel remembered that it seemed Nora knew all the words to the songs that came over the car stereo. Sometimes Abel would turn down the volume mid song and let her angelic voice carry out the rest of the tune. It was like a private concert all for himself, Abel was selfish that way.
Thinking about Nora made him hurt in ways he never thought possible. He did his best not to think of her, however unhealthy that it was. Abel knew that it wasn't helping, only pushing the grieving process back to a later date, but feelings only got in the way of the mission. He needed a clear mind to find his son, it didn't help anybody if Abel ended up dead in a ditch before he could find Shaun because he was distracted.
Still, that didn't stop him from thinking about her from time to time. It was always the little things that got him, like seeing empty shells of the places they used to go to. Finding little trinkets on a scavenger run that she might like. Abel never really could tell when she actually liked a gift he bought for her. It was well-known that Abel didn't have the eye for gifts that other romantics had, he was like a bird bringing back shiny things he found for attention. She would smile none-the-less and put them in her little stash of gifts. This time he caught himself thinking about her more than he wanted to was about music. Her favorite sang came on, and the only thing Abel could think about was how he would never hear her voice again. He would never hear her sing, laugh, or say his name the special way only she could. Shaun would never know how her soft voice could cease the infants fussing and lull him into sleeping.
Abel stood up, tearing the welder's mask off of his face and letting it drop to the floor with a clatter. He couldn't help himself, not this time. He went to the corner of his workshop, to the picture that hung up on his wall. Abel peered at the two-hundred year old picture through blurry eyes. Footsteps around the truck stop cut his moment short. The vigilante made it appear as if he was still working on the power armor, his back to the door. He couldn't afford to show weakness, not now.
MacCready came into the workshop, Rocket in tow. "He's a good hunting dog."
Abel turned around to see that the hunting duo had completed their mission. MacCready and Rocket had set out to get a mole-rat, but came back with several. Abel kneeled so that he was at eye level with the canine. "Whose a good boy?" He asked, running his fingers through the top of the dogs fur.
Rocket shook his head at the praise, his mouth open and tongue lulling to the side.
"Have you read this yet?" MacCready picked up the newspaper article he had lifted from Piper's house when he was moonlighting as the vigilante.
"No," admitted Abel. "I've been busy with this set of power armor." Their latest raid had been more successful than the others as of late. What was supposed to be a solo recon mission ended with Abel coming back with yet another power armor frame. Secretly MacCready had been surprised that Abel came back at all after that kind of fight, but he was reminded that he was only a recent addition to the team and that Abel had been doing this for a while by himself. Abel was so secretive about his work that the sniper wondered if he preferred to work alone.
"War," MacCready began to read it off anyway. "War never changes. It's ever-evolving, expanding to consume more flesh but deep down it's still the same old War. What's happening in the Commonwealth is no different. We were all just unfortunate to get stuck in this version of the war, we are all at the mercy of the war machine."
"Is there a point to this?" Abel asked with a sigh, pulling off the top part of his vault suit, and wrapping the arms around his waist. What used to be a white undershirt clung to his body like a second skin, sweat and grime had rendered it anything but white.
"Maybe that's what we should call you," MacCready grinned. "War-Machine. I like it. It's catchy."
"I don't need a pet name," Abel scoffed. "What I do need is food. Take your catch to Sanctuary Hills, and have them turn it into a stew. Pass the extras out to the people."
'Such a buzzkill,' MacCready thought to himself. At the same time he couldn't imagine what kind of stress Abel was going under, as a vigilante and as a father. They could keep shooting until their ammo ran dry and the Commonwealth would still be populated almost exclusively by scum. Only MacCready knew that the vigilante wasn't waging a war on crime, not completely. What Abel was really doing was targeting the raider groups known for dealing in human trafficking, and slavery. Maybe after they found Shaun they could expand their crime fighting radius, but at the moment Abel had a single goal. Until then if the Commonwealth wanted to believe them to be heroes it only helped their cause.
A hungry growl in the pit of MacCready's stomach stifled the urge to poke fun at his by boss by saluting and saying 'yessir'. Instead he left their makeshift base of operations to do as he was told. Rocket following close at his heels. He wasn't following MacCready, but the promise of food.
Now alone, again, Abel returned to work on his power armor. He wasn't at work for long when he heard the sounds of footsteps approaching. Maybe MacCready had forgotten something, but he didn't want to take the chance. Abel reached for the nearest weapon and pressed himself up against the the corner of the doorway the best he could. The hiding spot wouldn't last long, but it gave Abel a drop on whoever dared to come into his truck stop. The vigilante did his best to slow his breathing, and cursed inwardly at his weapon of choice. His favored pistol sat just out of arm's reach on the weapons bench, and the walls were literally lined with various weapons that he had acquired from his numerous raids, but Abel Cohan would have to make do with a wrench. He wasn't even sure what kind of wrench it was, he had just been calling it 'Big Ass Wrench'.
The intruder had barely made it into the workshop when a figure had come out of seemingly nowhere, pinning her against the wall in one fluid movement. She could barely let out a "Fuckin' Hell," when she found her wind pipe threatening to be crushed by a cold piece of metal.
"Cait?" Abel asked in disbelief. He removed the wrench from her neck but kept the makeshift weapon in his hand at his side.
"Is this what passes as foreplay around here?" Cait teased in a rough voice, her hand touching her throat to assess the damage. No blood had been drawn, but it would definitely bruise. Cait hadn't seen that look in Abel's eyes since their brawl in the Combat Zone, it was a scary look for most people on the receiving end of it. Cait wasn't most people, though.
Abel stepped back, wrench in hand. "What are you doing here, Cait?"
If Cait had heard the question she didn't show it. Instead she simply walked past the vigilante, taking in the scenery before saying anything. Finally, she let out an impressed whistle. "Forget Santa, this is what I want for Christmas," Cait stopped in front of a power-fist, the expression on her face reminded Abel of a child in a candy shop.
"Don't touch the merchandise," Abel sidestepped in front of Cait. If Cait had broken something it wasn't like he could just go buy a new one.
"You're no fun," Cait teased. "What is it you do here?"
"How's your arm?" Abel deflected the question. Silently he had decided that she wasn't a threat. Not yet at least. To show it, he placed the big ass wrench back on the table.
The fire-haired fighter winced at the mention of her arm, unsavory memories of Abel dislocating it flood into her mind. Cait brought her hand to her left arm, only daring to let the backs of her fingers grace her skin. Hypersensitivity met with her touch, a pain laced with pleasure.
"It's healing," Cait finally managed. An awkward silence filled the air like a dense fog. The Irish fighter stepped away from the power fist, and the man guarding it. She spun slowly on her heels, taking in the scene slowly. There were enough weapons in that one room to supply a small army. It struck Cait that a small army was camped up the river, and they weren't outfitted with any of these weapons.
"Don't share well with others?" Cait mused with a chuckle.
"The Minute Men have their heart in the right place, but I can't hand out military grade weapons to those so inexperienced." There wasn't a lot of time wasted between the question and the answer, clearly he wrestled with with this question before. "If they die, their weapons will be back in the Commonwealth in the hands of raiders."
Abel returned the power-fist to it's rightful place on the wall with a sigh. He didn't want to know what kind of Hell would be released on the Commonwealth if that fiery red head was allowed to leave with that power fist. When Abel turned around he found his gaze matched by her piercing eyes.
In her hand was the gas mask Abel used to conceal his identity, when he was someone else. "So, why do you do this?" Cait held the gas mask up to Abel. Even he knew she had a point. It didn't offer any particular defense bonuses like a helmet, and it wasn't like there were laws about killing, not anymore.
Abel snatched the gas mask away from the redhead. His fingers gently caressed the green fabric as if it were a holy object. "It's a fear tactic. I can't be everywhere at once, but if nobody knows who the man in the mask is, he can be anyone." He placed the mask back down on the table, out of her reach. "Or anywhere."
"No I mean," Cait crossed her arms across her chest, trying to reword the question in her head. She had always been better with her fists than with words. "Why do this at all?"
"To find my son," Abel responded simply.
"No," She almost growled. She didn't like to have to repeat herself, and this was almost the third time. "You would have an easier time operating in the Commonwealth if you weren't killing everyone in it."
There wasn't a time Abel thought he would agree with a brute like Cait, but she was right. Abel could operate almost entirely undetected if he chose not to murder those he came across. The thought had crossed his mind before. Even being what they were calling the War-Machine wasn't necessary to intelligence gathering.
"I swore an oath," Abel finally said after a moment of thought. "To protect this country from threats foreign, or domestic." The truth was that finding Shaun was only the first step. After Abel found his son the Commonwealth was still somewhere they had to live in.
Cait chuckled to herself. Abel waited for her to explain what she found so funny, but an explanation never came. Words like "oath" or "promises" were outdated to Cait, they were almost like foreign words in her mouth.
"No," She shook her head. "I think there's something else, something more."
"Like what?"
"I think," Cait took a step towards Abel, peering into his eyes one more time for confirmation before offering her theory. "I think you like the fighting, the killing."
Silence filled the air like a thick fog as Abel reflected on the potential truth that was just presented to him. This wasn't a life altering revelation, but a fear embedded into the back of his mind since his first tour. More accurately it was a darkness that lingered in the back of his mind, threatening to invade even his most private thoughts. It robbed Abel of the simplest pleasures, like being home. During the entire tour he wanted nothing more than to come home, to see his beloved Nora, but when he finally made it state side Abel found that home felt foreign. When Abel returned stateside he found that nobody really talked about the war, like it wasn't happening. It disgusted him. Not even Nora knew Abel counted down the days until his next deployment, but deep down she must have known.
Even Shaun's birth was a bittersweet moment. How could something so innocent, so pure, rest in the hands of a seasoned killer? Nora wanted to name Shaun 'Abel Jr' but after a shocking push back and an unexpected outburst, they decided to name him after her grandfather. The original Shaun was a professor in the Boston Institute of Technology, a kind man with a generous soul. He wanted nothing more than to look after his family, with a passion for science, knowledge and the truth. Shaun passed before he could witness the birth of his namesake.
"I was in the Army before this," Abel admitted. He didn't realize that he was talking, but he found that he couldn't stop the words from spilling out. "I'm a warrior, and I come from a line of warriors. My father served in the Army, just like his father and the father before him. I knew from a young age that I would serve, my father trained me for it. We were like spartans."
"This army of yours teach you to string people up by meat hooks?" Cait mused with a playful grin. "Or to carve them up piece by piece until they give your lad up?"
"No," Abel admitted. "That's all me."
Cait searched his jade green eyes yet again, looking for any trace of the fighter that longed for the thrill of battle but she didn't find it. Instead, all she was a broken, conflicted man staring back at her. It was almost like he was two different people; One who thrived in the heat of battle, and the second was a man chained by the guilt of what he had done. To Cait it was an all too familiar feeling, like an anchor that was wrapped around your ankle, dragging you further down to the bottom of an ocean of your own sorrow. Fortunately, Cait had cut that chain a long time ago. She stepped towards the copper haired man, her steps slow and deliberate.
"Sounds like your at war with yourself," The fire-haired lady spoke in a low tone, deliberately to get him to lean in closer to hear her. Her words rang true, like they had come from experience. "I know you're new in the Commonwealth, so let me give you one free tip of advice, for savin' my life and all: The Age of Heroes is over. Don't be the hero everyone wants, but the monster everyone is afraid of."
Before Abel knew it he found her hand on the back of his head, pulling him in closer until her mouth whispering into his ear. "Give into your inner desires," Her words soft and warm, melting into his ear.
In the heat of the moment the pair found themselves entangled in deep kiss. The moment could have lasted forever, stretching into infinity if Abel hadn't pushed her away. As a reaction he put Cait at an arms length distance, but mentally they were miles apart.
"I can't," Abel finally managed, catching his breath.
It was her first instinct to ask him if he were gay, not that anything was wrong with that, but Cait was fully aware of his deceased wife resting peacefully in the vault.
"Is it her?" She said instead.
"I can't be distracted," Abel said firmly, quickly distancing himself from the situation. He took a step back, away from Cait. "Not until I find Shaun." Nora was part of it, too. The wound was still too fresh in his mind. It was too soon to even begin thinking of moving on.
"That's what I am?" Cait's voice was almost a low growl. "A distraction? Don't go making a thing out of this," She folded her arms across her chest with an angry 'humph'. "I was just trying to say thank you."
Abel wasn't sure what to say, he remained silent.
"At least it's a better reason that holding out for that prude in Diamond City."
Abel was just as shocked as he was when he she kissed him. She must have saw it on his face because she continued.
"Don't play dumb, Mac told me all about that lass you're trying so hard to save in Diamond City. You don't do that unless you want to get your dick wet, or unless your head over heels and I don't smell girly perfume on you."
"What?" He shot back defensively. "It's not like that. I'm not in love, I just didn't want someone to come knocking at her door looking for answers about me or what I do." Abel thought that much was clear. He made a mental note to talk to MacCready later. "The Wrights are innocent, you want to protect that for as long as you can or I have to ask myself 'Why am I even doing this'?"
Cait rolled her eyes in response. Clearly she wasn't buying what he was selling. To her it sounded like he was whipped already. Though, he wasn't lying. Since his two-hundred year old nap he hasn't come across anyone particularly innocent. The Wrights, like Shaun, had become the personification of innocents in his book. Maybe it was just some need to justify the dark things he had done while operating in the Commonwealth, but that wasn't going to stop him from trying to do anything he could to protect the innocent.
Their conversation was cut short by the sound of a jet engine nearing his makeshift base of operations.
'Saved by the bell,' Abel thought to himself.
"The Hell is that?" A wild-eyed Cait asked. It was growing louder, and closer. The tools and weapons in the workshop rattled on the wall. It was even more unnerving seeing that it didn't phase Abel.
"I, uh, kind of have been doing side work for the Brotherhood of Steel." Abel shrugged nonchalant.
"You what?" She growled. Cait openly hated authoritative types, and the Brotherhood were the physical manifestation of that hatred.
Abel shrugged again, unsure of why he found himself trying to justify his actions to a woman he barely knew. "MacCready and I ran into them holed up in a police station about a week or two ago. I've been clearing hot spots for them, and they've been trying to find the man that killed my wife." He reached for a laser rifle that a paladin gave him off the wall, and started to head for the door.
"And if they're lying to you?" Her words stopped him in the door way.
His answer was smooth, and callous. Like he had rehearsed it before. "Then I'll kill them. Don't touch my shit while I'm gone, I'm serious." With that as their final parting words, Abel went out to greet the descending vertibird. Something about that threat made Cait feel like she wouldn't want to find out about the or else part.
Cait watched as Abel boarded the vertibird with nothing but a dufflebag, and a laser rifle.
The words just prior to their embrace echoed in his head. Maybe there was some truth to her words, maybe.
Goodneighbor proved to be to the ever growing cesspool Nick Valentine had always thought that it was. In exchange for an in with Hancock's 'inside guy', Hancock sent him a wild goose chase. The ghoul mayor 'hired' the detective to look for his lost shipment of drugs. His reluctancy to complete his task didn't actually get in the way of solving the mystery. Actually, it wasn't even really a mystery. Nick started with those closest to Hancock and worked his way down the chain. Nick didn't need to go any further.
The shipment was stolen by one of Hancock's own guards. The drugs had never left Goodneighbor, Nick followed the trail to what was thought to be an abandoned apartment complex.
'No honor among thieves, eh?' Nick thought to himself as he pushed the door open. As a trained detective he expected the culprit to be on the other side of the door, what he wasn't expecting was for his culprit to be tied to a chair, waiting for him.
"Ah, took you long enough." A familiar voice boomed. The synth pushed open the door to reveal Hancock sitting at a chair opposite of the accused, not tied up of course. Instead it looked like he was playing cards while his armed guards stood near the doors. "Come on in, don't forget to kick off your shoes at the door." Hancock greeted.
Nick's mind immediately went to trying to solve this puzzle. "What is this? Was this just some eleberate prank?"
Hancock put up a face of mock-sadness. "Prank? No, no. See, I've known that Jimmy has been stealing from me for a while. I thought it was just for personal use, I let my people share a little of the success. Keeps the morale up". His radiated chapped lips curled into a toothy smile. "I already solved this mystery. I just wanted to see if you'd do something you didn't want to do, for me."
If Nick was still human, about now would be when he started to feel disgust. Anger. Regret. Hancock had just wasted two hours of his time. "Why?"
Hancock shrugged, the grin still plastered on his face. "Because I can? Come on, don't be a Debbie Downer. I wanted to see how serious you were."
"I don't joke about missing children." He replied sternly.
"I know that now," Hancock turned to the table, writing something down on a piece of paper. When he was done he extended it to the synth.
"What is this?" Nick cautiously reached out for it.
"Where you can meet him, and what to say."
Nick had half a mind to tear it the chicken scratch of directions, he still felt like he was being played. "My geiger counter is in the shop? What is this?"
Hancock shook his head defensively. "I know what this looks like, but he's a very paranoid individual. If you say the wrong thing you might spook him."
On the paper was the time, and place he was supposed to meet this informant. It also included what to say. Nick still wasn't sure, but it was his only lead.
"You better not be lying to me," Nick warned.
Fahrenheit stepped forward in Hancock's defense. "Or what?"
Hancock held his hand up in protest, attempting to diffuse the situation. "I swear it's the truth, on old times sake." Something about the way he said it lead Nick to believe he was telling the truth. His answer seemed geniune, and not sarcastic. Probably for the first time in the ghouls life.
"You trust this guy?" Nick asked.
"Hell no," Hancock said truthfully. "Hell, we don't even like each other. But he stays out of my operations, and he's well informed."
Paper in hand, Nick turned to the doorway to get ready for the meeting with this mystery man. An infant's life could be riding on this very meeting.
"V.I.P. is secure," The Brotherhood pilot said over the comms as the vertibird ascended into the dark Boston sky. To whom he was talking to, Abel would just have to guess. He didn't have a headset.
"Way to make a guy feel special," Abel joked uneasily, turning to Paladin Danse. Heights had always made him uncomfortable. It wasn't so much a fear, as just a mild nuisance. The paladin didn't reply.
Abel opened the dufflebag at his feet, checking half absent-mindedly to make sure he brought his personal was in tact.
Danse looked over his shoulder, peering into the dufflebag. "You won't be needing that where we're going."
"Where are we going?" The vigilante closed the bag. The War-Machine identity was meant to be his burden to bear, alone, but the list of people who knew his secret identity was ever growing. He was geniunely surprised he hadn't been outed, yet.
The paladin shifted in his seat. He had originally planned on keeping it a surprise, but Danse figured he could tell him now. "The Prydwen has cleared you to board," It wasn't an easy sell, but Danse was one of the top officers under Maxson's command.
"Does this mean you found my son?" Abel could barely contain his excitement.
Paladin Danse shook his head with a grim look on his face. "No," He admitted. It wasn't his intention to get the man's hopes up. "We think we've come across some information that might lead us on the right path, but Elder Maxson wants to be the one to brief you."
Abel sat back in his seat, closing his eyes as he collected himself. It wasn't the news he was expecting, but it was better than nothing. War-Machine was a persona he created to operate in the Commonwealth to gather Intel on his son, but he wasn't getting anywhere with it. Now the Brotherhood of Steel thinks they might be able to locate Shaun? Abel would drop the dufflebag out of the vertibird right then and there, and sign up with them if it meant getting them back. Nothing, or no one would stand in the way of finding his son. Now he was one step closer.
Cait didn't leave immediately. A small voice in the back of her head instructed her that she should've left right after Abel, but she stopped listening to that nagging voice a long time ago. She lingered in the workshop, taking it all in now that Abel wasn't here to nag her. Didn't he know all the cool kids shared their toys? The workshop had basically evolved into an armory, but she figured it was more of a trophy room.
"If this is what you have on display," Cait muttered under her breath. "What do you have hidden away?" The fiery fighter started to look around the workshop, looking for anywhere the vigilante could have hidden anything of value. She would put it back of course, Cait was just curious. Or, that's what she told herself at least.
It wasn't long into searching that Cait found his information board. The board itself wasn't well hidden, just stuffed behind the workbench against the wall. Cait pulled it off the wall, and started to read it. Her mind went into overtime trying to come to decipher what was in front of her eyes. Names were crossed out, and circled. Cait wasn't completely sure what either of them meant. Some names were familiar, some she had only heard in passing. The only thing all names had in common is they probably met with an unfortunate ending, one way or another. As her emerald green eyes drifted towards the most recent names, she found the names were beginning to sound more familiar. It took her a full moment to realize that's because she was reading the names of where the Combat Zone was. Across where it was on the map was a "CLEAR". Cait searched frantically for the only name that really mattered. A shocked Cait could only hold the board, her mind running rampant with the possibilities that lay before her. She wasn't getting anywhere with her mind in a panic, she would have to check and see for herself.
Author's Note: First off, I'd like to apologise for the late updates. I just recently started a new job. The hours are long and the work is hard, but I will try to keep up with the updates.The amount of favorites, followers and reviews are outstanding. I never thought it would get the attention that it did, and I can't thank everyone enough for it. It's honestly what keeps me going sometimes.I have been reading the reviews, and I tried to address them. Piper wasn't meant to be the love interest that it came off as. She was the only one that I could think of that was really just a good character so she became the personification of the innocence that was thought to be lost in this post apocalyptic world. I will never apologise for a Batman reference, it actually made me want to put other comic book references in. I might in the future, I like references if you couldn't tell. The War-Machine was meant to be his name, but indirectly kind of as a joke. I hope I explained everything better in this chapter, and I keep these things in mind moving forward. It also came to my attention that I haven't been managing the time very well, so I hope to do better next time.I realise my work has been sloppy lately, so if anyone would like to help me tidy up, I wouldn't be offended. I hope the next update won't take as long, and thank everyone so much for being patient.