Wrong Place, Right Time: A Hero's Story Chapter 33: Wake Up, a Fallout + Halo Crossover fanfic

Chapter 33: Wake up

What just happened?

What the hell just happened?

Nate's entire body was trembling, it felt like his stomach wanted to jump out of his mouth, and he could barely breathe. It felt exactly like when they'd fought the Supermutants before the Brotherhood ambush.

PTSD? Was he having a PTSD episode?

He couldn't tell and he didn't care. His mind was struggling just to process what he'd just watched.

One moment, the church was there, as damaged and decrepit as it was, and the next it was gone, crumbling into nothing. Had that been the Institute? Did Shaun do that? Or was it the Railroad?

Nate didn't know. He could only stare at the wreckage that remained of the building from his spot, hiding in an adjacent storefront.

Damon-

Damon had been in there. He was- Nate watched the odd, golden flare of his armor's shields before the SPARTAN dove back inside.

Who had done that? Who attacked him? Was-

A rustling behind him startled the former infantryman, and, forgetting his broken arm, he spun to face the noise. The movement jostled it and Nate ruthlessly stifled a groan as pain shot through the limb.

"Sir", X6-88 whispered from the shadows at the back of the shop in his ever emotionless voice, "the target has been neutralized. We are to return to the Institute."

Neutralized? Target?

It was then Nate noticed the odd rifle the Courser had cradled in his arms. It was long and bulky, with ribs along the portion of the weapon that would normally be the barrel. The thing looked nothing like one of their laser rifles.

"What do you mean 'target'?", he asked, trying to keep the pain out of his voice.

X6-88 began forward. "I have orders to bring you back safely. Once we return, you will be debriefed."

Nate blinked. Debriefed? What is going on here? He glanced back at the collapsed building, dust still settling onto the rubble. Damon was still under there. Could he have survived that? The only time he'd seen the giant of a man hurt was after falling 50 feet from a Vertibird, but that…

"The target has been neutralized."

"Wait, wha-" before he could finish the question, the blinding white light of the Molecular Relay energizing flashed, and an instant later he was standing in one of its bays.

Another burning lance of pain shot through Nate's arm and into his chest. He dropped to his knees, eyes watering, and dry heaved once before puking what little food he had in his stomach over the floor of the small room.

The agony was indescribable. It was an order of magnitude worse than when Damon had actually broken his arm. His mind was consumed by it, every thought obliterated by the wave of pain crashing over him. Darkness encroached on the edge of his vision and, despite his best efforts to fight it off, progressed. Nate felt himself being pulled away from the world. A dim voice, maybe someone calling for help, echoed somewhere around him, but it barely registered as he pitched forward.

Blackness consumed him before he registered hitting the steel deck.

When the ex-soldier came to, he was laying on his back, something warm and heavy draped over him. His arm didn't hurt anymore. If anything, he felt… good.

It wasn't the first time Nate had been injured; he knew the effects of morphine when he felt them.

He could hear footsteps milling around him, a few people talking in hushed tones, and the gentle wafting of an HVAC system. So he's probably in an infirmary, the Institute. What happened? Why was he-

Images rushed back through his head. The trek through Boston- his home, his destroyed home with Damon. Getting to the Railroad, they were there to wipe them out and bring Cass and Thomas back.

Then-

Then something happened. Damon lost it, said he was done. He broke Nate's arm before telling him to leave.

His mind froze at that moment. Damon- he'd never seen the SPARTAN lose it like that before. Killing the Railroad, it wasn't something Nate wanted to do, but- but they had to… Right? His friend just wasn't willing to go through with it. Why? He'd never had issues killing people before, much to Nate's chagrin.

But the way he reacted, the violence he reacted with. How he attacked Nate. Damon wasn't the most stable person, and at times he could be downright terrifying, but the ex-soldier had usually trusted him to control himself. The armored titan had never hurt him, or the kids. Had Nate been wrong about him? Was Damon more unstable than he thought?

Or had he been wrong to agree with wiping out the Railroad?

Had that been so far even the SPARTAN, who had probably killed more than Nate's entire platoon in the few months he'd been here, couldn't do it. Did his conscience finally put a stop to him killing people there?

The next time Nate talked with-

Loud cracks of supersonic projectiles, without the sound of a gunshot, filled Nate's head. The image of Damon's shields flaring bright gold before flickering and fading. He dove back into the church a few seconds before detonations went off around its outer walls and the whole thing collapsed on top of the SPARTAN-

"The target has been neutralized."

Holy shit.

Nate's eyes snapped open and he sat bolt upright in his bed.

The morphine in his system couldn't compensate for that.

He cried out in pain as his broken arm throbbed in protest. The bright lights of the infirmary burned his eyes and vertigo slammed into him once again so hard he gagged.

"Please take it easy", someone yelped from beside him.

I can't. I can't. The pain and disorientation was just a distraction. He did his best to push them aside and blinked the spots out of his eyes.

"Where's Damon?" he forced out of a sore throat, more of a croak than words. "What happened?"

"You need to re-"

The pile of debris hung in Nate's mind as he struggled to control his breathing.

"No! I need you to tell me what happened or get someone who can."

That couldn't have happened. There's no way. Not to Damon. Not the man Nate watched kill a half dozen Deathclaws. Not the man he'd watched assault and massacre the gang in a well fortified underground bunker.

Nate was losing the battle with his body. He could feel himself begin to hyperventilate, he was trembling, and he felt like it was 40 below.

After his vision cleared enough to see, the ex-soldier took in his surroundings. He was in an infirmary, several other beds, all empty, several pieces of machinery he didn't recognize, a small desk at the far end, and cabinets full of equipment. The only other occupants were two Institute technicians in their white and blue coveralls.

Shaun wasn't there.

"Sir, you were unconscious. Please don't push yourself", the young man with black hair and a pale, unblemished face standing beside his bed said.

"I don't give a damn!" Nate barked. "Get Shaun, or Ayo, or Porter- SOMEONE WHO CAN TELL ME WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!"

"Okay, okay", the nurse pleaded, holding his hands up, "just please calm down." He turned to his companion, an equally young woman who bore a striking resemblance. "Can you inform Carter Nate is conscious?"

The young woman nodded, staring at Nate, wide eyed. She hurried from the room leaving the two of them alone.

What had he done? He just- he only wanted to make sure the Railroad was destroyed.

What had he done?

Damon- had he betrayed him? Had he gotten the SPARTAN killed? After everything Damon had gotten him through, had Nate been the one who got him killed?

After a few minutes, struggling on the verge of a full blown panic, Shaun, Porter, and X6-88 entered the infirmary.

"Father", his son- his 60 year old son- said, "I am glad you are recovering."

A dozen emotions, from anger to loss to apprehension, swirled through the ex-soldier's mind. "Shaun. What happened?"

"As we discussed, X6-88 led a squad of Coursers to support you in case Damon was unable to destroy the Railroad."

That sounded like bullshit. "But they didn't. They didn't attack the Railroad. They attacked Damon and then we left." The church collapsing on his friend flashed again. "The church." He looked at the dark skinned Courser. "Did you do that?"

"That was not our doing", he responded, shaking his head. "It appears the Railroad detonated those charges to cover their retreat."

They didn't go after the Railroad. They killed Damon, and then he said the target was neutralized. Damon was the target.

Nate's mind was whirling. Their target wasn't the Railroad, their target was the SPARTAN. They wanted to kill Damon.

"You lied to me." Rage won out in the tempest of emotions. "You lied to me. You set that up to kill Damon."

His son's expression was it's normal, impassive mask of emotionlessness. "We did not lie to you. Their primary objective was destroying the Railroad. However, Damon was a major threat to our continued existence, and it was the best opportunity we had to remove it."

"What are you talking about?" Disgust joined his fury. "He was helping you. If it weren't for him, the Brotherhood probably would have won already."

"You did not seem to agree with his methods."

Nate scoffed. "I was pissed at him, but the guy knows what he's doing in a fight. What does that have to do with anything, anyway. He put together a battle plan- if he didn't help, you all would be sitting with your thumbs up your asses."

"Nate", Porter said in that placating, smooth voice she'd used around him whenever he was upset. It was really getting on his nerves. "Please don't strain yourself. I understand-"

"No Helen, I'm not in the mood right now." The ex-soldier fixed Shaun in his glare once again. "You killed your best shot at winning this war."

The Institute leader shook his head. "He gave us the groundwork, and educated several of our most experienced people in how to think for this type of war. That, along with your experience, should be sufficient."

Nate gaped. "Is that all he was to you? A book on how to fight?"

A frown cracked the blank expression on Shaun's face. "Father… my primary goal is the continued existence of the Institute. Damon provided the means to do that, but it was also clear he, more than the Brotherhood, represented a threat to my objective. It is unfortunate he was unable to complete his mission, making our actions necessary, but it was what is best for the Institute."

"What the fu-" The ex-soldier was having trouble processing what he was hearing. "Damon was trying to get home. He didn't like the Brotherhood any more than anyone else."

"I appreciate that", Shaun said, weariness creeping into his tone. "You even agreed you were unsure if he was dedicated to assisting us. You understand better than anyone how he viewed us, our goals, and our means. He may have had no love lost for the Brotherhood, but he also did not like us. In fact I would say he was repulsed by us."

"He was willing to do what we needed him to-"

"Clearly not", his son snapped, patience gone. "He did not perform his role and destroy the Railroad."

"So you decided to kill him?!"

"You agreed we must do what is necessary to ensure the Institute endures."

"Which means we kill someone for growing a goddamn conscience?"

And then it hit him. That was it. The SPARTAN had been struggling with it for a while. Then something happened, a switch flipped after Nate… admittedly exploded on him. Was this all really his fault? If he hadn't done that would Damon still be alive?

"A conscience doesn't necessarily mean they have the correct intentions", Shaun continued, almost as if he were now lecturing the ex-soldier. "They are subjective entities."

Nate swallowed. Hard.

The armored titan- despite what happened over the last week, Nate knew under everything that happened to him, he was a good person. If his conscience told him something was wrong, it was probably wrong. And when he decided to listen to it, when he threw away his chance at getting back to his universe, what had Nate done? He betrayed Damon. He got him killed.

The ex-soldier didn't find it difficult to imagine he was probably Damon's first friend since his home was destroyed. In the moment he needed Nate the most, he betrayed him. He left the SPARTAN alone.

Was that what was running through his head as the church collapsed around him?

"He was just a kid", Nate whispered over the lump in his throat. "He was just a kid, trying to figure out what's right."

"And we are just trying to do the same", Shaun said. "But we aren't only soldiers, we don't only kill. We're scientists trying to create a better, more advanced world."

"How do you know that was the right thing to do?"

The Institute leader shook his head. "I am not the correct person to discuss the construction of a moral framework with. As far as the Institute is concerned, he was a threat, and in order to ensure our continued existence, he had to be eliminated once he turned his back on us."

So your 'moral framework' is 'anyone who doesn't fall in line dies'?

"Would you have killed me if I'd gone along with him?" Nate asked, eyes narrowed.

His son blinked. "Do you believe you pose the same threat to us as he did?"

"N- no."

"I believe it is unsafe to paint us with a single brush and one color. We are not antithetical to disagreement, only entities that can threaten the very existence of our organization."

"That could mean a lot of things."

Shaun shrugged. "Which is why it is determined on a case by case basis." He held up a hand to stop any other protests. "I understand you were close with Damon, which is why I wanted to spare you the guilt of helping plan his demise-"

The ex-soldier's anger piqued once again. Plan to kill damon? "I wouldn't have."

"Be that as it may, what's done is done. This is going to be difficult, as many decisions for the greater good are, but I believe some time to think about it will benefit you. Dr. Porter will be available to speak any time you please." The older man's face softened ever so slightly. "All of that being said, believe me when I say I wish your friend had not made this regrettable action necessary. He would have been a boon for us in the upcoming battles."

With that, the older man turned to leave. The conversation's end was so abrupt, Nate almost felt as if he'd been slapped in the face. One moment he was upset and frustrated, the next his son had dismissed him and left. Is that really all this situation is to Shaun? Regrettable?

Even now, only minutes after remembering what happened, Nate felt the yawning absence left by the towering man. The looming, quiet presence that, despite their disagreements, felt like an added layer of security. One that seemed impenetrable.

And a friend who, in the face of everything that's happened, managed to be both a protector, and a confidant.

Porter offered an apologetic smile and placed a hand on the blanket over Nate's leg. "This is a difficult time for Shaun. He does not like the idea you feel exploited. Please take some time to think. Any time you'd like to talk, let me know."

Then he was alone, with nothing but his thoughts keeping him company.

Shaun didn't like the idea he felt exploited? Well he did exploit him. He exploited his, admittedly strained, friendship with the SPARTAN to ambush him. Nate had messed up. He messed up bad, and it cost the only person he'd come to rely on this destroyed facsimile of the world he knew their life.

"Oh Nora", he muttered to himself as he leaned back in the bed, wincing as pain stabbed through his arm, "how did I get into this one? How do I fix it?"

How many times did they have that conversation? How many times had she pointed him in the right direction?

His last deployment- she was struggling, and after the ambush, after he ran, that phone call was… three hours? Four?

"Maybe it's time", she said in that stern voice only she could pull off that didn't feel condescending. It was odd for an attorney. "I- it's been ten years, Nate. You know this isn't what either of us wanted. You've always been sure of what you were doing there. Do you remember what you told me?"

"The moment you start doubting what you're doing", he whispered to himself, "you die."

"Right. You've served your time. More than your time. Come home. Please Nate. If you're having second thoughts, you should stop before you get killed."

He remembered walking out into the middle of the parade ground as she talked, holding the phone so tight to his ear it hurt. The soldier sat on the concrete, still warm from the hot, bloody day.

The soldier sat there and, as the emotions he'd worked so hard to keep tucked away while he was deployed welled up so fast and so hard he had no chance of stopping them, he cried.

Nora- his compass, his conscience, his strength, his voice of reason… his best friend. She stayed silent on the other end of the call, there for him despite being on the other side of the world. She always knew when to talk and what to say. She was so good at it. Maybe that's why she made such a phenomenal lawyer.

His sobs kept coming, but she never said a word. He could see her, standing in the living room of their small house on base, biting her lip, right hand on her hip, left holding the phone to her ear.

After… he never knew how long, the sobs finally subsided, and he cleared his throat. "Nora- Nora, I'm ready. I'm ready to come home. I'm ready to come home for real."

Silence was all that greeted him, but he managed to catch a quiet, shuddering sigh on the other end.

"I'm ready", he whispered.

"Good", Nora said eventually. "It's damn about time."

The two of them shared a choked laugh. She'd always joked about saying that. Instead of sarcasm though, her voice was full of relief.

First thing the next morning, Nate went to his CO. Martin actually smiled when he told him. That was full of relief too. Less than a week later, before the ink on his transfer papers had a chance to dry, he was on a plane heading stateside.

He didn't go straight home, like he usually did. The soldier walked to the base's dog park and sat on a bench, staring off into the horizon. It was over. After all that time… it was finally over. 16 years, his entire adult life, and it was over. The fighting, the killing, the fear.

It was finally over.

At some point, someone walked up behind him and sat beside him. Nate didn't know how long they'd been there for before he noticed.

"How's it goin Cockroach?"

The soldier turned to see one of his former squadmates, Cook, sitting on the bench too. The massive, dark skinned man was an amputee with a prosthetic lower left leg. He lost it to an RPG a few years before.

Mistaking him for compromised was something that got a lot of the DI's trainees' asses kicked.

"It's… it's going. How long have you been here?"

The instructor shrugged. "15 minutes. Came by an hour ago to check on you."

An hour? "What time is it?"

"Around 1630." His friend turned to look out over the small park, the ghost of a smile on his face. "You know, I sat right here, staring off into nothing. I think it was 10 hours." He chuckled. "The hospital sent someone to make sure I hadn't collapsed."

Nate looked at his prosthetic. The man made a point to keep it exposed most of the time. That hadn't been a good day.

"You know that was my rocket."

He shook his head, still gazing into the distance. "If it was yours, it would have hit you."

Cook's piercing brown eyes fell back on Nate. "You're done."

"Yep."

Something crossed the dark skinned man's face. Was it pride? Relief? Satisfaction? A mixture of the three? Nate couldn't tell, but whatever it was, his old battle buddy sat silently for a few heartbeats, letting the emotion prevail.

"Word's going around", he said eventually. "'The cockroach is hanging up his wings.'"

That got a chuckle out of him too. "Fuck you too, Barnabe."

"No one calls me that anymore."

"None of the wet behind the ears greenies you hang out with now. Still the platoon's best nickname."

The large man nodded, but didn't respond. It was almost like he knew what was coming next.

Another lump formed in Nate's throat. Cook was here because Nora was waiting for him. She was still waiting for him.

"Did I fuck this up Cook?", he said, voice thick. "Did I-?" He couldn't finish the question.

His battle buddy shook his head slowly. "Nah man. It took a while to get it through your head, but you didn't fuck it up. Nora's here for you- we're all here for you."

Nate leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and buried his head in his hands. "Why did it take me so long? Why did I waste so much time?"

"You weren't ready", Cook said with an understanding that could only come from someone who fought by his side for over a decade. "A lot of people never are. Just be glad you didn't die before you were. And be glad you got Nora."

The soldier lifted his head and met the other man's gaze. "Did she call you?"

He shook his head. "I was waiting at the house. Thought I'd come find you to make sure you hadn't tripped and broken your neck."

Nate smiled. "You're an asshole."

"But I'm your asshole."

The two of them sat for a few more minutes in silence. This wasn't goodbye- they were still neighbors, they were still brothers- but they were both done now. They were both out.

It was a relief.

Almost as if he sensed the moment was over, Cook stood. "Nora's waiting."

Nate followed suit. "I know."

Cook walked with him the two miles to his house. As they rounded the last corner, he caught sight of Nora waiting in the driveway and his heart skipped a beat. His old battle buddy slapped him in the back so hard, his eyes began watering. "You know what happens if you fuck this up now cockroach."

The ex-soldier smiled. "Never gonna happen Cook."

He began forward and, before he was half way to his house, he found himself sprinting with everything he had. He rushed forward to the best thing that had ever happened to a screw up like him. Rushing toward the one thing that had gone right in his life. It wasn't until he was in her arms he realized, at some point, he'd dropped his duffle.

It didn't matter.

What mattered was her warm, loving embrace. What mattered was he was where he belonged.

Before he knew it, tears were rolling down his face, staining her blue t-shirt. He sobbed so hard it hurt.

"I'm sorry I took so long."

"It's okay", Nora whispered, so soft, so caring it was like the words were wrapping themselves around him. "I'm here. I'll always be here."

They stood there, in the middle of the street, in each other's embrace for what seemed like an eternity. It was the best moment of his life.

He was home.

Eventually, they pulled apart and he stared at her, smiling so broadly it felt like his mouth would split in half.

"I'm home."

Her eyes were red and puffy too. But her smile was as wide as his.

"You're home."

Nate didn't know when, but Cook must have put his bag on their front steps before leaving.

There would never be any way for the ex-soldier to repay him for those years of watching his back, just like Cook knew he'd never be able to repay Nate. But those days were over now. This was his life.

And he couldn't wait for it.

Nate found himself crying uncontrollably.

Oh god he missed her. Nora really was the best thing that ever happened to him.

And now she's gone.

As his mind drifted to her body, being embalmed and prepared for a funeral service, it also dragged the memory of what he'd done back up. What he'd said to Damon after the SPARTAN had trudged back and forth across the Commonwealth to bring her back. He didn't need to do that. He didn't need to risk being found for him. Bringing Nora's body back was symbolic, it didn't do anything.

But Nate had wanted it. He'd wanted it more than anything at that moment. To see her again, even if it turned out to be like everything else since he'd woken up here: a dead facsimile of what he'd once known.

That was all Damon needed though. The only reason he had was Nate, a friend, wanted him to, and that had been enough for the giant of a man to not only do it, but ask the ex-soldier to stay back so he'd be safe.

That was where everything started going wrong. That was where he drove the ax into their friendship.

Dammit. Goddammit. Why had he done that? Damon had just been doing his best to help, to be the person Nate believed he was. And what did he do? He threw it in his face.

The armored titan wasn't Cook, but he was the closest anyone would ever come to his old battle buddy. And he'd probably saved Nate's life as many times as Cook had.

And now he was gone. Just like Nora. Just like Cook.

But unlike those first two, this was all his fault. Damon had just been trying to help because, in spite of everything and even if he didn't act like it a lot of the time, that's who he was: he helped people. For his effort, Nate betrayed him- got him killed.

Tears continued rolling down his face.

The ex-soldier couldn't even blame the rest of the world for this one. It was on him.

He didn't want to talk with Porter, he didn't want to talk with Shaun, he didn't want to talk with anyone. Nate wanted to undo what had happened, wanted to undo what he'd said, and what he'd done. It was an instant, that moment seemed so surreal. One moment Damon was there, the next-

How could that happen to someone like the SPARTAN? So suddenly?

Nate knew the answer, he'd seen it countless times. It was one of the reasons why, despite him taking issue with a lot of what Damon did, he understood the armored man's habits.

Thoughts raced back and forth in his mind, searching, fighting for some way to make things better, to make things right.

But there was nothing.

Damon was dead.

Dead.

As much as he hated it, Nate spent the next several hours laying in that damn infirmary, drowning in his self-loathing. He hated what he'd done to Damon. How he'd made Damon choose his conscience or his opportunity to return to his universe. How he'd sided with the Institute over the SPARTAN.

How Damon had been the voice of reason in that moment, when Nate was so ready to wipe out the railroad.

At one point, Porter brought him a tray of food and bottle of water, but it was hours before he touched either.

Why does she do that? Why is she so insistent on being present for everything? Bringing me food, trying to constantly talk with me?

Damon had been wary of the Institute, and it went beyond his normal, universal suspicion. The FEV was one thing, but the titan had concerns that ran far deeper than that. He'd tried to say something about it while they were on house arrest for his little incursion into the FEV lab, but Nate didn't want to hear it at the time. He wished he'd listened now.

Eventually, exhaustion took hold and Nate, reluctantly, closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep. He wasn't looking forward to the nightmares that awaited him.

Running hurt.

Every impact of his feet on the treadmill's track jarred his still healing arm. That was fine, the pain wasn't anywhere near penance for the massive lapse in judgment that caused it. Damon had broken his arm but, even now Nate could feel the encroaching terror picturing the SPARTAN bearing down on him, it could have been a lot worse. If he could snap his arm like that, the ex-soldier's neck would have been no issue.

Despite everything, Nate found himself mesmerized by the Institute's technology. Three days ago he was in bed, arm in a hard cast and immobilized. Now it was soft cast and a sling. He even had limited use of it.

With the multitude of broken bones he's suffered throughout his life, that would have been a welcome development 200 years ago.

The throbbing in his arm was distracting, but not so much so Nate was going to stop. He'd been sitting on his ass wallowing in self pity, and it would drive him insane if it kept up. Besides, Damon had given him a parting gift, one that, had the ex-soldier listened, he may still be there.

Funny enough, it was Helen who flipped the switch in Nate's head: things went beyond not being able to trust the Institute. Something far more insidious seemed to be happening, and Nate was in the middle of it. The SPARTAN had been concerned Nate's relationship with Shaun, and the… difficult position he'd been put in, would compromise him. Fittingly pragmatic for the armored man, but also, now he had a chance to think a little more clearly, probably correct. The question he had to ask now was where the hell does he start?

Thud.

His feet continued pounding on the treadmill, pace matching his thoughts.

Neither of them knew exactly what it was, but Damon suggested it had to do with more than the Brotherhood. The ex-soldier had suspicions of his own now. Sure, the cult was a threat to the Institute, and they'd need combat expertise to get through it. Now he had his head back on straight (sort of), Nate began putting more of the pieces together. That only left more holes though. Shaun had told him he wanted to get to know him, to spend time together before the end, but a few things didn't add up.

How would Shaun have known when the Brotherhood would have shown up? And if he did, waking Nate up a few weeks before they arrived gave them no time to prepare.

Thud.

How had he woken back up in the first place? The first time was when the Institute broke into Vault 111 to steal Shaun and- kill Nora.

No one was there when he woke up 60 years later.

Thud.

Why had the Institute allowed Kellogg to be killed? He had been their agent for at least 60 years, so why would Shaun allow them to track him down so easily.

Thud.

Last, if Shaun wanted to spend as much time with him as possible, why had he not just made contact? They'd already admitted they were keeping tabs on them. Why play the mysterious shadow organization?

He continued running, arm throbbing in pain with each step.

There were so many questions, and none of them had easy answers. Damon was gone, and that pain was several orders of magnitude worse than the lances shooting through his arm, but he'd left a message for him. The SPARTAN didn't have the answers, but it was up to Nate to put them together.

Even now, he still found himself almost asking Damon something every time a thought occurred to him. The armored giant had been such a constant force over the last few months, and so, seemingly, invincible, the thought he was gone, that he wasn't there was still so… wrong. His absence left a gaping hole Nate didn't know could be filled.

He would never be able to make up for what happened, and never bring Damon back. That hurt in a way he couldn't express. But he could try to figure out what his friend had been trying to tell him when he- betrayed the SPARTAN.

Only one person Damon spoke with hadn't been involved in planning the Railroad's elimination.

After the eighth mile, Nate was heaving hard enough that hurt more than his arm did, so he slowed the treadmill to a fast walk.

Dr. Li was under suspicion of helping him break into the FEV lab. The ex-soldier didn't know the details, but he gleaned enough from listening to the other Division leaders to know she'd been a Brotherhood scientist before coming to the Institute. He knew she'd talked to Damon, specifically, in private. He also wasn't obtuse enough to miss them running interference for each other during the meeting after Damon had broken into the FEV lab.

Maybe saying they were working on something was a stretch, but she was someone the SPARTAN had trusted enough to work with. That was, at this point, the best endorsement of Madison's intentions as someone could get in Nate's eyes. Especially when it comes to the Institute.

He'd have to be careful about how he did it, but she was the best person to talk with if he wanted to dig up the answers he was looking for. She wouldn't know, but she could help, and he'd need every friend he could get at this point. Nate had taken Damon for granted, just how much he could rely on the man to be the only person he needed in his corner.

The ex-soldier wasn't a politician, but he was shrewd. It was time to use that.

Slowing the treadmill to a stop, he stepped off and, after stretching, began back toward his apartment. He'd take a shower and be done around the time Porter would come calling. He needed to be careful, she was smart and observant. If he let on anything, Nate was sure it would get back to Shaun. While he hated being suspicious of his son like that, what other choice did he have? After what happened?

After stripping, Nate stepped into the shower and let hot water crash onto him, washing the sweat away in a soothing torrent. That was one luxury he'd never take for granted again.

As expected, a few minutes after finishing his shower and dressing in a fresh set of khakis and a black t-shirt, a knock on his door signaled Porter's arrival. The former infantryman slipped the sling back around his arm and over his neck before striding to the door and keying it open.

Stay calm and breathe.

"Nate", the young, athletic woman said, smiling, "I hear you aren't going easy."

He shrugged, and regretted it immediately. "Nothing else to do right now", he replied, wincing.

"Carter says you're making a fast recovery, should be 100% in a few more days."

"So I'm told." The bitterness in his voice wasn't entirely manufactured.

Helen's smile faltered. "Do you mind talking? This type of grief isn't healthy to keep locked away."

Nate almost scoffed. "What type of grief? Damon is just one more person around me who has died. There have been plenty, what's one more?"

"You know that's not how you feel, Nate. Damon was… different. You may think I'm patronizing you by saying this, but I don't need to be a psychiatrist to see the relationship you had with him was unique." The shrink frowned. "I've read plenty about how people who go through combat together form a type of bond most people can't understand. On top of that, he was the only person you knew and were comfortable around after waking up in a destroyed version of your world." She broke eye contact and fidgeted with her hands for a moment before continuing. "And I know you feel guilty for what happened to him."

"I am, aren't I?"

Porter shook her head. "You weren't given all of the information. Besides, it wasn't your fault he chose to betray us."

"Betray us", he echoed. "He betrayed us."

She nodded.

"You know, it really doesn't feel like that."

"This was something we needed to ensure our safety, and he sided with the Railroad." The Shrink frowned. "That seems like a betrayal to me."

"He saved those people, Helen. And then we killed him for it. That seems like we betrayed him."

"Only if it was the right thing to do."

Nate grunted. "What are you getting at?"

"This wasn't your fault, Nate. There were plans outside of your control, and Damon made his own choice."

It was… amusing how she openly admitted he was manipulated. The admission was one of those clues he'd probably missed before; these people really do think their ends justify any means, and that anyone else should agree.

"Maybe the next time you decide to use me, you should give me a little more insight into how I'm being used." His eyes narrowed. "Anything else Dr. Porter?"

Her practiced composure faltered for a moment. Despite everything, Nate didn't think Helen was in any way malicious. He'd seen this before talking with some of the Brotherhood soldiers.

"For the Greater Good."

That should have set off alarm bells, it clearly had for Damon.

"No, I'm here to talk with you as you'd like. Don't feel as though you must speak with me."

His face softened. He couldn't really begrudge her that, she was trying. "Thanks Helen."

The Institute psychiatrist hesitated, her expression uncertain, before she nodded and backed away from the door. Nate waited until her footsteps receded into an adjacent hall before closing the door.

Was he being too harsh? It was this attitude that put him at odds with Damon. He had to think this through; if Nate did wear out his welcome with the Institute, he'd have to find somewhere else to go. That isn't what he wanted. He wanted to stay there, stay with Shaun, but Damon had been right: if he did that, and ignored everything the Institute does, he'd be just as much a monster as they are. Things need to change, and if he's going to do that, he needs to figure out what's going on right now.

The ex-soldier walked back to the bedroom and flopped onto the queen sized mattress. Damn. He'd never get a break. It was the military, then the bombs dropped, then Nora was killed, and Shaun taken, then Damon, then the Commonwealth, now the Institute. If he didn't know better he'd think the world enjoyed poking at him to see what would happen.

Except those 'pokes' were life destroying events.

As minutes ticked by, Nate did his best to push those thoughts to the side. He needed to channel a little inner Damon and focus on what he had to do. He couldn't afford to be distracted. Maybe they wouldn't kill him, but a wrong move would make life significantly more difficult.

Alright. Dr. Li. She might not know much, but she's someone I can probably trust. Who else?

That was the problem: he doesn't know many people in the Institute. Going outside of the Institute wouldn't help much since the only two parties that have enough knowledge to help were both actively hostile.

And he was banned from the two largest settlements in the area.

That left Curie and Sanctuary.

Curie probably bugged out when the Railroad had, so she was a no go. Sanctuary… Sturges, apparently, had knowledge about the Institute, and contacts within the Railroad. He might be able to help. If he went that route, he would be involving them in this mess, and that might be a problem. Nate didn't know the people there well enough to say whether they'd want to be involved or not, and it's 20 miles across open, hostile ground.

If he had Damon-

The ex-soldier forced himself to swallow.

One step at a time.

He gathered himself off of the bed, painfully laced his boots, and left the apartment. Dr. Li is a good place to start. I can move on from there once I've figured out how I want to do this.

Nate did his best to stay relaxed as he walked toward the Advanced Research Division. He smiled and nodded at the scientists he passed in the halls, and kept his pace casual. They'd be watching him. There would be enough reason to be suspicious after they saw him talk with Madison, but it would be easy enough to explain. No point in lying, he's going there to talk with her about Damon.

Trudging up the ramp to the ARD wing's front door, the scorch marks and battle scarring from the Brotherhood's opening salvo were still plain to see. The maintenance crew, mostly comprised of Synths, had been working to fix the damage, but it wasn't finished yet. There'd been a battle going on and he was cowering in the back while others fought.

The ex-soldier despised that. Sure, maybe he wouldn't have been all that useful in a battle between super soldiers and power armored Brotherhood members, but he wasn't useless either.

One step at a time.

Continuing through the carnage, Nate stopped the first technician he could find, an older, shorter man with salt and pepper hair, to ask where Dr. Li was.

"You can find her in her office", he replied, pointing down the hall.

"Thank you…"

"Tyler."

Nate smiled. "Thank you, Tyler."

With a nod in response, he continued through the wing, which was bustling with activity, until he reached his desired destination.

The door to Madison's office was shut. Was she working on something sensitive? Should he-

It slid open and he found himself looking into the room, the Advanced Research Division leader standing behind her desk, watching him expectantly.

"Please come in", she said in a carefully neutral tone.

"Am I interrupting something?"

Dr. Li shook her head. "Trying to collect my thoughts."

That probably wasn't all she was doing, but it wasn't Nate's concern. Maybe.

He accepted the invitation and walked over to one of the chairs in front of her desk. Before sitting down though, he asked, "is it possible to talk privately? Just between the two of us?"

The slender, stern faced doctor jabbed a button on her desk and the door slid shut again.

She motioned to the chair. "Please take a seat." They sat and Dr. Li clasped her hands on the desk in front of her. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Dr. Li-" Now that he was here… what did he say? By now, it would be impossible for her to not know about what happened. Would she think he was responsible for the ambush? It would definitely be appropriate. "Dr. Li, you don't trust me. You can't trust me after what happened." She cocked an eyebrow. "I'm assuming you know about how Damon died." She nodded slowly. "Well… I know he trusted you, and you weren't involved in any of the talks planning- the ambush. That's why I'm here."

"He didn't trust me", she said, eyebrow still raised, "but he didn't distrust me as much as the rest of the Institute."

"That's good enough for now." Nate sighed. "What happened- wasn't supposed to happen. I never knew what they were planning, if I had, I never would have gone along with it. It's not enough to hear me say it, I know, but Damon was my friend, and a good kid. I just wish I'd seen what he'd been trying to tell me sooner."

This time both of her eyebrows went up. "Kid?"

Nate waved the question away with his good hand. "We can get to that, but I want to know why you went to him about breaking into the FEV lab."

"... Why?" She didn't try to deny it.

"Because I'm trying to figure out what, exactly, is going on and I don't have anywhere else to start." The ex-soldier locked his gaze on hers. "What did you tell him, and what made you trust him with that information?"

"You still haven't convinced me you aren't here fishing for information."

"Oh I am, but if you're worried I'm doing it for Shaun, don't be. I'm here because I finally realized what had Damon so on edge. The Institute is even shadier than the rumors would suggest, and I don't think I'm here just because Shaun wants to spend some quality time with good ol' dad. He's told me himself: everything he does is for the good of the Institute."

A lance of pain shot through Nate's chest that had nothing to do with his broken arm. It was a lot worse than he thought possible.

"Uh huh", Madison said, expression taking on a more appraising frown. "So what, exactly, do you expect from me? I know nothing about any conspiracy including you."

Nate nodded. "I know, but there's a loose thread here, and I intend to start pulling on it."

The two of them held each other's gazes in silence, Nate's pleading, Dr. Li's curious. She didn't trust him, and that was the right move. If she did, the ex-soldier would be worried, but he didn't know what to do.

"I had a friend here", the ARD leader said slowly, "someone who worked in the FEV lab by the name of Brian Virgil. A few months ago, the security systems in his lab went haywire, killing him. At least that's what I've been told. I was not allowed to involve myself in the investigation. The reasoning Father, or as you know him, Shaun gave me was it was under BioScience, and Holdren's, authority. Any time I broached the subject with him, he would quickly divert to a different topic. I requested Damon search the lab for any clues as to his whereabouts in return for information on the Institute's methods."

The ex-soldier blinked. She asked him about Virgil? And he didn't tell her? He guessed that made sense, the SPARTAN liked holding things close to his chest.

"Dr. Li, I'm sorry but… Dr. Virgil didn't die in his lab. He made it out, hid in the Glowing Sea. The Institute tasked Kellogg with killing him- that's when we ran across him."

Her eyes narrowed. "You're telling me my friend survived, and escaped, and Ayo and Father ordered his execution?" There was something wrong in her voice. It didn't have the right combination of disbelief and anger. He'd just told her a coworker and the leader of the Institute lied to and betrayed her.

"Yes…"

"Why should I believe you?"

"Because we- I don't have a reason to lie." Sirens were going off in his head. There was something wrong here… His mind was racing, trying to figure out the disconnect. She wasn't in the room when they talked about the Brotherhood captured him but hadn't they-

"Wait. Damon mentioned Dr. Virgil once. That 'discussion' after he broke into the FEV lab, he said he got the password to his terminal from Virgil."

"He could have been lying for cover."

Nate scoffed. "He was definitely lying. Damon couldn't lie if his life depended on it. And we never got a password from Virgil, only the info about the Courser chips. That means he got the password from you."

Dr Li. smiled. "That is correct."

Wait… what?

Now it was the ex-soldier's eyes that narrowed. "Were you testing me?"

"A little", she said with a shrug. "I'm not convinced I can trust you, but if you're willing to part with information like the Institute put out an order to kill Brian to keep him quiet, you're either very determined to gather information for Father, or you're telling the truth about Damon and your intentions. If it is the former, I am already compromised, and if it's the latter we share a common interest." Madison took a deep breath. "Yes, he told me the same thing you did about Brian, but as I understand it, he was captured and most likely tortured by the Brotherhood."

"So what did he want in return? What did you want from him?"

"A partnership of sorts. He was looking for more information about the Institute, and I was looking for an outsider I could trust."

An outsider? "Why an outsider?"

The doctor frowned again. "That is information I will give you once you've proved your reputability. You did just have a hand in getting Damon killed, remember."

"That wasn't on-" Nate began to protest, but he stopped himself and took a deep breath. She was right. "You're right. Sorry. It's just- I didn't want that."

"I hope that is the truth."

It is. "Okay, so what if I said I want the same thing. I want more information on how the Institute works. On some of it's more… questionable tendencies. It's the best way for me to figure out what Shaun has in mind for me, and a better idea of why he wanted Damon dead."

Li unclasped her hands and began drumming her fingers on the desk. "I would ask you what you can offer me. We don't trust each other yet, so there must be some form of exchange here."

What can I offer her? Nate leaned back in his chair. "We'll I'm obviously not Damon, but I can try to keep the other division leaders off you back."

"And you would do this how? They're all extremely smart. They'll know when you're trying to divert them."

A small smile crept onto Nate's face. "Who says I'm going to 'divert' them? All I have to do is give them something more important or more dangerous to worry about. Or to be more specific, they already have something more dangerous, I need to make it the only thing they have time to worry about."

Madison returned his smile. "You want to take advantage of the war with the Brotherhood."

"Yes", he said with a nod. "No one here has ever been in a war. I spent my entire adult life fighting one. I know from experience how easy it is to lose track of things when the fighting starts. There's an old saying: 'a plan never survives first contact.'"

"So what are you intending to do?"

"I'm still figuring that out, but I'll come up with something."

She gazed at him, a thoughtful frown on her face now. "I'm interested to see what you manage to think of. I hope I can believe you. I need help with some of my… secondary tasks as well. Prove yourself trustworthy first; considering what you've done, you have a long way to go."

The pit in his stomach knotted even harder. Her declaration was nothing compared to his own self loathing for what had happened.

"I understand."

With that, the ex-soldier stood to leave. There was an objective, a goal now. He just hoped he was doing the right thing. The last decision he made got someone killed. He didn't want that to happen again.

Nate wanted to go straight to Shaun and begin discussing how they would fight this upcoming war. He didn't want to wait. That would be the wrong call though. He needs some peace and quiet to come up with a plan. There was no need for Dr. Li to tell him the division leaders, and Shaun, were incredibly intelligent. More so than him. The only places he had the advantage were combat and survival. Combat lent itself to some of his more… conniving tactics. When you survive 16 years of active combat, you come up with a few tricks.

So instead of looking for his son, Nate walked to the commons to get a tray of food. He did his best thinking while he was working out, but considering he was recovering from a major injury, and had already been on the treadmill for an hour, it was a bad idea. Next best thing was the solitude of his apartment.

"You deemed it necessary to call everyone here together", Shaun said as he and the other division leaders gathered in their dedicated conference room. The room Damon had spent the week prior to- the ambush putting together a battle plan. Nate was glad he had been there to watch and study. Despite having been on active duty longer than the SPARTAN, the way his mind worked was truly incredible. From what the ex-soldier could gather, he never fought this type of battle, but the way he absorbed and analyzed everything spoke volumes about how bright he was.

It also spoke volumes about how backasswards his childhood had been. Maybe that was part of the reason whoever turned him into that wanted children. You teach a kid how to fight a war, you make sure that's the only thing they know, you make the best strategic and tactical thinkers out there.

Nate learned more in that week about planning and logistics than he had over the first decade of his military career. Most of it was piggybacking off of Damon's learning. Now he was going to put some of that new thinking to use.

"Yes. I think we need to start thinking about how we'll actually win this war. Damon did a lot of work laying a foundation for the fighting and logistics, but we need to establish our win condition. What do we have to do to beat the Brotherhood." Nate motioned at the map on the conference room table, the smaller table Damon had brought in to lay out technical data, and the computer terminal in the corner. "This is good to start with, we know what we have, what we can do, and how we should fight. We need to implement it now."

"Before we get to that", Justin Ayo said, eyeing the ex-soldier, naked suspicion on his face, "How do we know we can trust you? Dr. Porter has reported you have not been receptive to her attempts at discussing Damon's termination. How do we know you are here to assist us?"

Nate's teeth ground together hard enough to shatter them. He had little doubt Ayo was the one who suggested they target the SPARTAN. One small piece of amusement Damon had offered while they were at the Institute was belittling the SRD leader. Ayo was a pitiable man with a massive inferiority complex.

"Ayo", Nate responded, purposely leaving out his title, "I suggest you watch who you're accusing. You killed a friend of mine and used me to do it." He held up his now healed right arm. "This works now. I'm not Damon, but if the two of us went at it, I'll take me."

The slender man scoffed. "Typical brute. Do all soldiers resort to violence and threats?"

"Just with insecure pricks like you. You love talking about intellectual exercises, but at the end of the day, in a war, you need someone to pull the trigger." Nate smiled. It wasn't a friendly one. "You're too much of a coward to do it yourself, so why don't you listen to people who have?"

The good doctor's face went to its natural color: red. "If we're discussing 'intellectual exercises', why don't we discuss your visit with Dr. Li three days ago?"

"What about it?" He glanced at her. "See unlike any of you, she attempted to reach out to Damon and give him the opportunity to prove himself trustworthy. The rest of you wrote him off as a liability, even though he was your best strategic planner and tactical asset by orders of magnitude." Nate made a point to look around the room at each person there, holding Shaun's gaze for a few beats longer than the rest.

"You want to talk about how you can trust me? I'm the best resource you have for this war now. I'm not Damon, and I'm not a Courser, but I'm now the only person with any significant warfighting experience. How can I trust you? You used me to execute someone whose side I fought by almost every day for two months. Don't think I'm stupid enough to not know what's going on. I'm another Institute resource. I know you're going to use whatever help I provide beyond the Brotherhood. You won't tell me what that is, so let's not pretend you're being transparent here."

This time Nate locked eyes with his 60 year old son and held his gaze. The neutral expression was thoroughly entrenched on the Institute leader's face.

The silence that settled over the room was stilted and uncomfortable, but that's exactly what Nate wanted. He has leverage as long as they need help fighting. Let them make the first move.

Shaun never broke eye contact with the former infantryman, and Nate sure as hell wasn't about to back down. He had too many chips pushed into the middle of the table and he'd be damned if he was going to let this go.

"As you wish", the older man finally said, motioning to the map, "what would you like to discuss?"

Nate smirked. His son had tacitly admitted he was right.

"If we're going to come up with a way to win this, we need intel. That isn't news to anyone here, and Damon established key criteria for scouting and information gathering." The ex-soldier took a deep breath. "We don't have him to do the harder parts, so we need to get creative." He pointed at the large red circle over the airport. "Hitting here won't work, at least not for a while. They're too far entrenched and too well supplied. We need to figure out how to fix that."

"Which is something Damon discussed at length", Holdren said, tone much more measured than Ayo's. "Do you have anything new to add?"

Nate nodded. "Damon intended to gather information through contacts in the Commonwealth's settlements. Contacts he had that I don't. That means we'll need an alternate method. We need to position scouts around farms and settlements to gather intel on who is supplying the Brotherhood and what they're supplying them with."

"That is ridiculous", Ayo said, "Deploying that many forces for information gathering would leave us vulnerable."

"Wow", the ex-soldier said through a mocking laugh. "You figured that out by yourself?"

Before the SRD leader could respond, Filmore nodded thoughtfully. "You would like to limit the number of settlements we post watches to to larger ones that have the capacity to support their supply needs."

Nate nodded. "Infiltrating Goodneighbor and Diamond City will also be important. The Brotherhood got Diamond City to assist in an ambush on Damon and I. That means they've probably got their cooperation too."

"Okay", Dr. Li said, studying the map. "We gather this information not only to determine how to attack, but also to determine how we are to win. We need to know where to hit to weaken the Brotherhood enough to eliminate their main force."

"Exactly. We'll also need to be as active as possible attacking them with hit and run operations to keep them off balance. As long as the Molecular Relay stays secure, we have a huge advantage."

This was where things get tricky though, because the Brotherhood aren't going to sit around and let their strategies go unopposed. They'd be actively looking for infiltrators and countering their attacks. Damon had been dead on when he decided the Institute would lose a heads up battle.

That worked perfect for Nate.

"The Brotherhood is going to adapt as we fight. They made the first move, now they want to see what we do. That means we need to keep the assaults going as often as possible with as much variety as possible. Hit anything and everything, from strongholds to supply lines to individual patrols. We need to make sure they don't know who's going to be attacked, when they're going to be attacked, or how they're going to be attacked."

Li nodded. "And when they hit back?"

"So long as we maintain a perimeter around CIT, and keep the Relay secure, we'll be safe for the time being. Secure production and resource base, and very little risk of a direct attack. We keep a strong guard consolidated here along with intrusion countermeasures. They have two options: wait us out, or find some other way in besides the Molecular Relay. If they do come up with another entry method, it will probably be pretty obvious."

"So you're saying we have a distinct advantage", Shaun said, likewise studying the map.

"That's an understatement. That doesn't mean we can underestimate them though. If they can find a way in, they'll use it."

The Institute leader nodded as well. "Agreed." He looked at Dr. Ayo. "Get Jackson in here, you two will work with Nate on determining priorities for surveillance and we will begin putting together our scouting packages." Nate's son met his gaze. "When would you like to start attacking their positions? What positions would you prioritize first?"

"We need to start hitting them now. As far as positions go…" he glanced at the map. "They started big. I say we return the favor."

A/N: Well... yes, I did that. I had to think very long and very hard about writing last chapter and this one. It's something that, like I've said, has been planned for a while, but I wanted to make sure the moment felt earned. We're going to learn a lot about Nate (obviously) in upcoming chapters, and there are a lot of questions that need to be answered (both by him and the Institute). Aside from all that, we're having a schedule change. I've had a bit more time lately to write, so I will be going to three chapters a month (the middle three Fridays of the month). Anyway, let me know what you think and I will see everyone next time!

Next Chapter: 4/15, New Friends, Familiar Foes