Author's Note:
This chapter was a special request from my husband who has acted as my beta. We've done "Fallout foods night" dinners for our kids recently, and he thought it would be amusing to feature some of the conversations we've had about Commonwealth cuisine. If you like this one, or loathe it, that's all on my own Jay. Grab a snack and enjoy!
The sunlight that filtered in through my makeshift curtains brushed my eyelids. A whirring sound accompanied by a British accented voice came from my kitchenette. Nate was speaking softly with someone in there about only Goddess knew what.
I grudgingly opened my eyes. The pain blossoming in my leg reminded me of the previous night's war with the mutants, and the reason for me passing out. Getting shot really sucked. I tentatively lifted myself up, being mindful of my wound. Glancing down, it appeared that someone had patched me up. I wasn't sure that I wanted to know where the stitching thread had come from.
I made my way towards where I'd heard Nate and his unknown companion talking. At that point I began wondering if this world had any good painkillers left. I saw him sitting at the little table in the kitchenette. A round hovering robot came into view. It asked Nate if it ought to make a pot of coffee. Before he could decline the offer, I piped up.
"Coffee would be like the nectar of the gods right about now. I didn't even know it was possible in this world to get a good cuppa." I said with a grin of anticipation.
"Of course, mum. I'll start the pot up now." said the robot.
"Brenna, this is Codsworth. He's my Mister Handy from before the war. He's part of my family, and the one who doctored you up last night." Nate said with obvious affection for the bot.
"Good to meet you, Codsworth. Thanks for the medical assist, and more importantly, the coffee." I said.
The Commonwealth and all its oddities were apparently beginning to grow on me. The idea of a personal robot butler felt absolutely logical in this world. I don't know if that meant I was accepting the idea of being here for the foreseeable future, or that I'd simply given up hope. The two were not mutually exclusive.
Nate slid two syringes across the table towards me. I eyed them suspiciously while Codsworth placed a wonderfully steaming mug of coffee before me. Distracted by the arrival of my favorite start to the day, I stuck my nose down into the steam rising from the cup and inhaled deeply.
"Codsworth, you are a wonder. This smells amazing! I've missed coffee so much this last month." I told him.
"Glad to hear it, mum! Mr. Nate, should you really be giving the stimpak and med-x to Ms. Brenna now?" Codsworth said to the both of us.
"Ah. So the mysterious needles now have a name. What exactly are these?" I asked Nate.
"The stimpak will help heal the gunshot wound. The med-x will take the pain away for now. If you want to use them, feel free. I've got enough to spare. Just inject them close to the wound for the best effect." Nate replied.
"I guess it's a good thing that I'm used to giving myself injections. I'll be right back, gentlemen." I said, gathering up the medications.
Heading back to my bedroom, I was thunderstruck. I've lived with chronic illnesses for the last few years. I was first diagnosed with an autoimmune disease called rheumatoid arthritis and shortly thereafter, the epilepsy that landed me in this crazy situation. Amongst all the medications I took, a weekly injection to suppress my immune system was one of them. Preparing to shoot myself up with the drugs Nate gave me reminded me of this aspect of my life before all this. I couldn't believe that it took me nearly a month to realize that despite not having any of my medications, my diseases hadn't caused me even an iota of problems.
I sat down on my bed, and stared at the needles before me. What was happening to me? And perhaps more importantly, why? I rolled up my pants leg, and gave myself the shots. The relief from the pain was immediate and very welcome. Having my old life come back to visit though? That was a different sort of pain entirely.
"Everything ok back there?" Nate called.
"Yeah, I'm fine. I'll be back for that coffee in a moment." I replied.
I stood up, and gingerly tested out my leg. No pain, and it felt fine to bear weight on. I headed back to the kitchenette, and prepared to deal with whatever information that Nate had brought with him.
Sitting back at my table, I finally took a sip of the coffee. I sighed with complete satisfaction at having a morning joe. I noticed a little cake sitting on a plate near my mug. After a quick inspection, I figured it would be safe to eat. A nibble and a sip later, I had to ask where it came from.
Nate smiled and laughed. "You've never heard of Fancy Lad snack cakes?" he asked.
"Ah, no. Little Debbie or Hostess, sure." I said, a little puzzled.
"Huh? Anyway, these cakes are easy enough to find out in the wastes. A trader came through and I figured I'd stock up your cabinets while you slept off your adventures from last night." Nate said.
"Oh man. I'll never understand the Commonwealth's insistence on eating 200 year old food. My husband always said Twinkies would survive the apocalypse but I never thought I'd see it myself." I said, suddenly feeling a little green in the gills.
"My Nora said similar things about the Fancy Lads. She also had a distaste for the Salisbury steak I kept around." Nate said. A look of grief touched his face at remembering his dead wife.
"OnCor? Man, my middle son couldn't get enough of that stuff! I think the nights I brought those damn things home were the best of his life." I said, smiling at the memory of my kids.
"Never heard of that brand. We would get Saddle-Up ones." Nate said.
We spent the better part of the morning drinking Codsworth's coffee and talking about the parallels between our worlds. Our lost spouses felt like ghosts in the room. As Nate shared more of his family life, I began to envy him in a way. He still had the hope of finding his son any day. I had many miles to go before finding a way back into my family's arms.
"Well, time to get back to it. Piper will be wondering where I've gone off to, and if she can get a story out of it." Nate said, standing and stretching.
"Nate, can I ask you a personal question?" I asked.
"Sure. What's on your mind?" he replied.
"You and Piper. Do you love her?" I asked carefully.
"Yeah. I really do." he said. A silly little smile lit up his usually dark features.
"When you started to fall for her, did it feel like you were betraying Nora?" I couldn't stop myself from asking.
"At little bit at first. But Piper…she just made it easy. Since coming out of that Vault, she was the best thing to happen to me." he said. After a moment's thought, he added "Any reason why you might be asking?"
"No. I'm not sure. Maybe?" I said.
I was feeling thoroughly conflicted at that moment. Spending the morning hours reminiscing with Nate had brought back all the feelings about my family that I had pushed to the back burner. This last month had been about survival. There had been precious little time for grieving. But there were many times I found my thoughts wandering towards Nick. Then again, when Preston would stand behind me and help guide my aim, it was challenging to think of anything else but his touch. What the hell was wrong with me? My husband was at home, waiting for my return. At least I hoped he was.
I shook my head to clear my thoughts, and escorted Nate and Codsworth to the door. As he stepped through the open entryway to head out into the bright mid-morning sun, Nate finally told me why he had been sitting in my home when I awoke.
"Oh, I almost forgot. Nick sent a message along with Piper and I. He wants to meet you in Goodneighbor. There's a bar called The Third Rail. As much as he detests it, he figured that would be a nicely conspicuous meeting place. You can easily tag along with the next caravan to come through here. Should make for smoother traveling, being with the caravan guards." Nate mentioned almost casually.
Shit.
"I'll get right on that, Nate. Thanks for stopping by." I said as I shut the door in Codsworth's visual sensors.
Time to suck it up and hit the open road again. Goodneighbor, here we come.