Chapter Text
Madison and JH don’t have any good news for Jack and Nick.
Given Shaun's extensive knowledge of how the old model Gen 3s were programmed, it's more or less as bad as Madison figured it would be. Nick is a little different, given that his being was pulled wholesale from a brain scan of an actual human. However, his core programming is the basis on which all the older Gen 3 models were built before Madison and Alan changed how the Gen 3 synths were constructed.
So, Shaun got the last laugh in that regard.
Plus, they can only guess what the reversal code might have been, and without Shaun’s voice imprint, that’s straight out. JH may be able to cobble something together, but it’s likely been too long since Shaun died. Nick knows the Director is dead, so trying to trick those processes into following the order of a dead man is a tall order on top of an already gargantuan one.
Madison still promises to look further into the code they pulled from Nick, and JH says he’ll offer any assistance necessary. Nick takes the news well that there is no simple fix to getting his emotions corrected, but Jack feels like he’s coming apart again. He crosses one arm over his chest and uses that to prop his other arm to put the palm of his hand over his mouth. He hopes it looks like he’s just thoughtful over the news, but in actuality, he’s trying to keep from crying.
“John,” JH says quietly, “Nick will recover. Even if there is nothing, Madison nor I can do to speed the process up.”
Well, so much for looking like he’s in thought. Apparently, he looks as close to breaking, and he feels.
Nick touches his arm. “Kid.”
That only succeeds in breaking Jack’s composure because why the hell is Nick trying to comfort him? Nick’s the one with the problem. Nick’s the one who has lost a facet of himself to Shaun’s power play. Jack’s just here to pick up the pieces.
Angrily, he scrubs the tears that fell from his cheeks and steps back from Nick. He clears his throat, turning to JH’s synth.
“You said Kellogg was leaving shortly? I should go thank him for his help,” Jack says, making a beeline for the exit. He can’t deal with Nick being absolutely fine with this, even if he can’t help it.
As he power walks through the hall back to the main elevator, another of JH’s synths falls in step with him. JH keeps his peace as Jack waits for the car to return to ground level. When it does, he settles in against the railing, and the car starts moving back up.
“Are there many synths that want to leave?” Jack asks, needing something else to occupy his mind.
“No. None, actually.”
Jack gives JH a surprised look.
“They all want to wait and see what happens down here before deciding. They likely believe all the same propaganda the scientists do about the wasteland. If things improve, they have no need to brave it.”
Jack nods. He can understand that. Hell, he lived that. Here’s hoping Secord can negotiate as well as she can run Coursers to grab wayward synths.
By the time the elevator reaches the top, Jack has managed to pull the Lone Wanderer back on to cover the cracks and steps out of the elevator as X6-88 and Kellogg turn to face him from where they were talking a moment before.
“Oh, don’t let me interrupt this tête-à-tête,” Jack grins. “I’m perfectly content to wait my turn.”
“Just trying to convince this hard head to come with me,” Kellogg says. “He keeps tellin’ me no.”
“It is not appropriate to abandon my duties,” X6 replies with something that nearly sounds like irritation.
“I mean, don’t let me stop you. I was deadly serious about synths leaving if they wanted. That includes Coursers. If you want to X6, you can.”
“I do not.”
Kellogg claps X6-88 on the shoulder. “Well, that settles that. Gonna miss you, Killer.”
X6-88 nods. “It will not be the same here without you.”
“Better though,” Kellogg replies. He moves toward Jack and grabs his hand to shake. “Spent about ten years lookin’ for you. Never figured I find you in my own backyard. Remember to keep the Brotherhood on their toes too.”
“Don’t worry. I love a good spectacle. Just gotta find the right way to reintroduce myself,” Jack replies with a smirk and shakes Kellogg’s hand a couple times. “Anyways, thanks for the help. I appreciate the assistance.”
“I would say any time, but if we meet out West, there’re no guarantees we’ll be on the same side again.”
“Well, for your sake, you better hope we are.”
Kellogg gives him a sardonic grin and releases his hand. Then Kellogg turns back to X6-88 and holds out his hand to shake. X6 looks at it for a moment like he isn’t quite sure what to do with it, but he hesitantly takes the proffered hand after a moment.
“Look after the Wanderer, Eighty-Eight. He’s gonna need your expertise,” Kellogg tells him as he shakes X6’s hand.
X6 nods solemnly.
Kellogg winks at Jack at that, dropping X6’s hand. Then he grabs a large pack from an old desk against the wall and strides into the Relay chamber.
“Put me as far West as you can manage, Henry,” Kellogg says as he gets situated.
“As you wish,” JH replies, and the doors of the chamber close.
There’s a flash of blue lightning, and Kellogg is gone.
Jack pulls in a deep breath and blows it out, wondering slightly at how he’s actually a little sad to see Kellogg go. A short time ago, he was a Kill-On-Site target with the Railroad. Probably best that he is gone; Glory would’ve tried to pull his head off, and that would be a whole mess he just doesn’t want to deal with.
X6 turns to him. “Do you have a timeline to return to the surface?”
“ASAP, but I gotta see Charlie Fallon first.”
“He is stationed in Robotics.”
Jack nods and heads to the elevator; JH’s synth and X6 step in behind him. The car starts its descent.
On the ride back down, Jack looks out over the sea of white that is the Concourse and wonders what the hell he’s gotten himself into. It was one thing to wander around the Capital and intervene, when necessary, or badger people in power to change or ignore them and do what was needed, but he’s never actually led anything.
Brotherhood in the Capital had an Elder that wasn’t him. The Pitt had leaders that weren’t him. Point Lookout was full of crazy people, and he was just trying to survive an ill-fated vacation. Let’s not even talk about the spaceship because part of him isn’t sure that wasn’t just a Med-X-induced hallucination, but even if it was real, that was Sally’s show to run, not his.
Yeah, he had a habit of taking things over from people who weren’t great leaders and figuring things out from there, but that didn’t mean he ever led a large organization, let alone one to war.
Here he is talking a big game and pretending like he knows how the hell to manage the coming conflict. Truth is, he’s terrified. The Brotherhood is better prepared, better armed, and has way more experience fighting. If the Commonwealth manages a miracle and wins, it will be at a significant cost. He isn’t sure anyone but him understands that right now, and Jack will have to live with shoving an entire Wasteland into war with a foe very few of them understand.
Jack can feel JH’s eyes on him, but given the company, JH doesn’t express that he knows Jack’s thoughts are spiralling. As the elevator slows, Jack pulls himself away from the glass and attempts to focus on finding Charlie Fallon.
JH’s synth leads him to Robotics, and Jack tries to get a better feel for the layout of this place. He’s no stranger to walls and corners that look the same, but it has been a while since he last had to use that skill. X6-88 trails a step behind Jack and slightly to his left as if he’s taken Kellogg’s words deeply to heart.
It probably wouldn’t be so bad to have a Courser shadow to help intimate Brotherhood assholes, but X6 does have his own mission, and Jack can’t have him dogging his every step to keep a promise to Kellogg. There will be times when that scowl will be to his detriment.
The red stripe on the door that JH leads him to marks it as Robotics. Beyond the door is a domed foyer and a large glass chamber with a spider-like piece of equipment inside. Jack pauses in front of it, observing and wondering how it works.
“Gen 3 synths are manufactured here,” X6-88 says as Jack peers through the glass.
“How?” Jack asks before he can help himself. He shouldn’t care and should probably shut the whole damn thing down once Glory is back, but robots have always been his jam, and he’s so curious about the actual process.
“Gen 3’s start out with bones grown in our lab,” Doctor Binet says as he walks over to Jack; he must have been at the nearby workstation that Jack initially missed on his way in. Binet looks a mixture of pleased and proud to explain the process. “They’re reinforced with a polycarbonate weave to help them keep their structure while soft. Then we implant them in a firm jelly-like substance with high nutritional density and trapped oxygen particles before moving in here to be set up on the Wheel.”
Binet gestures to the spider machine.
“From there, we use stem cells and inject them into the medium around the bones and nanites to direct the cells to become nerve cells, brain cells, blood cells, muscles, organs, and skin needed to build a synth. We also add special weaves and components that assist with the synth’s resilience and constitution.”
It sounds amazing and way more technical and scientific than just the bare bones of what Binet described. But also not at all like a robot. The Gen 1s and 2s are definitely robots, but they’ve been literally growing humans. Cyborgs, if you want to get technical since they have machine components in them and programming, but still people. Not machines. People. Smart enough to come up with the process but not smart enough to see the inherent hubris in their actions.
Jack’s disapproval must show on his face because Binet grows sombre.
“I know this must seem barbaric considering your affiliation on the surface.”
“Should my affiliation matter? Why isn’t it barbaric to you? It’s one thing to understand you’re growing people and then teach and treat them as such, but you made them slaves and then were surprised when they rebelled.”
Binet nods. “I know, and it is. Believe me. It is. I wanted to stop producing synths after Eve. After I realized all my suppositions on their sapience were true through her. But the Director wouldn’t have it, and Ayo wanted to banish me to the surface for my deviant ways.”
“Well, that isn’t going to get you a ticket to the surface from me. And if I didn’t need your help building Gen 2s, I might have you reach out the synths down here instead of Secord, but needs must right now.”
Binet nods. “I can offer my help to Alana if she likes. It will be a slow start here until we can get resources. And…I want to clarify because Isaac and Clayton made the crude insinuation, but I have not taken advantage of Eve. I consider her a member of my family, and I would never force her to do anything of that nature. We are not intimate. That would be a gross misuse of my power.”
Jack considers Binet for a few seconds, but he seems sincere. “I’m pretty sure the comments stem from jealousy and not disgust, Doctor. I’m frankly surprised there isn’t more ‘gross misuse of power’ goin’ on around here.”
Binet seems relieved that Jack believes him. “Well, we are a small population that shrinks every year. Synths cannot have children, so spending time with them like that would be a wasted effort.”
“’Cause that’s stopped anyone before,” Jack notes with sarcasm. “But yeah, I grew up in a vault; I know how precious reproduction is.”
There’s a beat of silence after that.
“Anyways, I’m actually here lookin’ for Charlie Fallon. He’s got a wife who misses him, and I would like to take him home when I go back.”
Binet nods. “We’ll be sad to see him go, he’s a brilliant armourist, but he talks about Betty frequently. His workroom is back this way.”
Binet leads him to a room off a hallway. There are further doors, so Jack figures offices, labs and probably cryostorage are waiting behind them. Maybe he’ll get a chance to explore them after all the imminent threat of the Brotherhood is gone.
Charlie’s workshop is filled with tools, benches, and equipment for manufacturing armour pieces that the Gen 2 synths wear and the coats the Coursers wear. It’s amazingly well stocked, and Jack looks around, thinking about everything that could be built even by an amateur, let alone someone like Charlie.
The man in question looks up when the three of them, and he smiles when he sees Jack. Or more precisely, when he sees the vest Jack is wearing.
“Rhett! Or I guess it's actually Jack, right?” Charlie weaves his way forward to stand in front of Jack. “If I’d known who you were when you first walked into my shop, I’d have made something better for the famed Lone Wanderer.” He makes to touch the worn edges of Jack’s vest but stops himself with a slightly embarrassed look.
“This vest has saved my life plenty of times, Charlie. It’s suited me just fine. Regardless of my name,” Jack replies. “Heavy though it is.”
“Oh, don’t worry, I have much better materials now. I can make you something lighter and stronger. No need to wear steal plate when I can give you poly composite carbon fibre instead,” Charlie says and knocks on one of the plates in X6-88’s coat. “You’ll have all the protection of a Courser, I promise.”
Jack smiles. “I definitely appreciate the thought, Charlie, but I’m not here to get a new set of gear—”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re our Director now. You need the best we can offer. Plus, Nick was just by to ask for some armour for himself now that he’s got a body that bleeds. I’ve got to keep the aesthetic consistent; you’re a pair. Hearts for him, hearts for you…but maybe a little less blatant this time.” Charlie nods to himself.
“Whoa, Chuck, slow down. I’m here to talk about going back to Diamond City,” Jack says.
Charlie immediately freezes, then he shakes his head, eyes fearful. “I can’t. No. Things are too bad up there. It’s a hellscape. I-I-I don’t even know how I survived in that place.”
And here’s what Jack feared. They forced Jack into Acclimation Therapy and nearly succeeded in destroying his sanity through hallucinations. Still, for someone without his allergy, he can only imagine that the process works well enough to reprogram someone into a compliant little worker.
“We all survive in the same way, pal. As we always have, one day at a time. Keep a supply of clean water, avoid rad storms, eat good food and spend time with the ones we care about. Charlie, Betty has been distraught without you.”
“…I miss her too.”
Jack nods. “I’m not sayin’ you gotta stay up there forever, but you should go see her now that you have that opportunity.”
Charlie shakes his head again. “I can’t go back up there. I can’t.”
Jack has a moment of horrible rage at what the Institute did to Charlie, and it takes a conscious effort to calm back down and not let it show on his face.
“Okay, okay. How’a ‘bout I bring Betty here?”
“…Yeah. That would be…yeah. I’d like to see her.”
Jack flashes a grin he does not feel in the slightest. “Good. Startin' to think you had a girl on the side.”
Charlie gives him a scandalous look. “I could never do that to Betty.”
“I know. Look, I'll let you know when I’ve talked her into comin’ here.”
Charlie nods. “And I'll get started on your guys’ gear. It’s been so long since I got to be creative. I've really come to hate black.”
On the walk back to the entrance to Robotics, Jack is a silent ball of anger. He despises what they’ve done to Charlie, made him fear, irrationally, his home. To the point, he wouldn’t even brave it to see his wife. Betty has a lot of work ahead of her because, one way or another, she will be back in Diamond City at her shop. He knows she won’t abandon Fallon’s or her family's legacy.
But she might well leave Charlie behind.
“I'm actually a little surprised he didn't want to leave,” Binet says as they meet up with JH's synth at the entrance. “I swear he talks about Betty constantly.”
“Well, I suggest you spent some time in Acclimation Therapy while Volkert fucks with your brain and see how willin’ you are to go back to your fucking family,” Jack spits.
Binet looks at him in surprise, which fades to wariness when he sees the look on Jack's face.
“Did you forget that the standard procedure around here is to bring people in synth or human and scramble their brains?” Jack continues. “The Surface seems fuckin’ idyllic compared to the shit that goes on down here.”
Binet has no words; he just sort of gaps at Jack. After more silence, Jack turns on his heel and exits Robotics. Blowing up on every scientist isn’t going to win him friends or influence people, but he isn’t sure how to walk the line between profound disapproval of their previous practices and winning them over to his side. And it doesn’t help that his emotional control is abysmal because of what happened to Nick.
How is it that as Deacon, he could pretend to be super cheerful and jokesy, like nothing ever bothered him, but as Jack, he’s gone back to being angry and hard? He feels like he never left the Capital; he’s returned to how he was just before he left. Rageful and bitter.
How much of him ever was Jack after his father died? The Lone Wanderer gets more and more of Jack's self the longer emotional trauma drags on.
He feels like an ass for freaking on Binet, it’s not his fault for what happened to Charlie or even Jack, but he is a representative of a fucked group willing to turn a blind eye to literal torture if it got them what they wanted.
It further cements the divide, and Jack doesn’t know how to bridge it enough that the Brotherhood won’t have a weak spot to exploit.
He stops at one of the water features in the Concourse and takes a moment to regain his composure. Gripping the cool railing and staring at the little waterfall as it trickles through perfectly curated rocks into a shallow pool. Both JH’s synth and X6-88 stand off to the side, waiting.
“Do you hate the Surface, X6?” Jack asks, figuring he already knows the answer.
“It’s dirty and unrefined,” X6 replies.
“That isn’t a yes or a no.”
X6-88 is quiet for a moment, and Jack looks back at him.
“I did not initially see the value in the Surface, but we depend on it, and good things have come from it. I prefer it here, but I no longer hate it there.”
“Well, that’s something.” Jack sighs, fishes out his pocket watch, and looks at the face for a confused moment before he realizes that it hasn’t been wound in a month and stopped sometime in the vicinity of 2:30. “What time is it, JH?”
“Just after eight p.m. It’s been a long day. Have you eaten anything?”
Jack shakes his head and starts winding the watch. “I hate the taste of slop here.”
“Regardless, you should eat something and then sleep. You can return to Diamond City in the morning.”
“…Yeah. Alright.”
The following morning is a flurry of activity. Jack stops at all the departments, checks on the beginning of their task, and ensures that things are progressing the way he wants them to and that there are no significant issues. He can already tell that Bioscience will be a problem; Doctor Holdren was far too nice to him this morning. It set every hair on the back of Jack’s neck on edge. But judging from how the scientists in the department shared looks, except Doctor Virgil, who seemed to be set apart from his colleagues, it is as JH said, and they don’t understand what it means to be under constant surveillance.
Sooner or later, they will get a nasty surprise in that regard, but in the meantime, JH will keep him updated about any major issues.
Jack apologized for snapping at Doctor Binet, who accepted with an apology of his own, so at least that relationship is still intact. He’s got to keep most of the Department Head on his side and causing arguments, though his grievances are valid, it won't help them beat the Brotherhood.
He can rage at them later. When the Brotherhood aren’t breathing down their necks.
With the rounds made, Jack has Nick, X6-88, and X9-27 meet him in the Relay room to return to the Surface. Jack asks JH to put them near Diamond City, but far enough out that the Guards won’t see them Relay in. He and Nick go first, just in case people are around, with X6-88 and X9-27 after.
Neither of the Coursers are happy about following their Director in case there are hostiles in the area. Still, Jack says he’s more concerned with the Coursers killing anyone who attacks rather than an actual attack, just in case it's scared traders or travellers rather than raiders.
The spot JH put them in is an empty back alley, but Jack doesn’t get much of a look at it before he pukes his breakfast up all over the ground. Nick holds one of his arms to help him keep his balance and rubs his back.
He’s still shaking with the exertion of it when the Coursers arrive a few feet from them. Jack wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and slowly straightens.
“Is that normal?” Nick asks, looking at the Coursers.
“Yes. It lessens drastically with subsequent trips,” X9 replies.
“It took Kellogg approximately four trips for the nausea to abate completely; however, he only vomited once,” X6 adds.
“I suppose you’re immune?” Jack asks, already knowing the answer.
“Yes. It can affect the standard Gen 3s, however,” X6 replies.
“But it is not consistent. It seems to have a greater effect the longer they are in the Wasteland,” X9 says.
“Radiation exposure?” Nick questions.
X9 nods. “That is the theory.”
“Well, I’ve had my share,” Jack replies, still vaguely nauseous.
After he rests a moment, they start hiking toward Diamond City. The buildings get tall around the old ball diamond before they open into the square, so as they approach that cut-off, Nick and Jack find a spot for the Coursers to wait.
Something with a good vantage point and some half-decent seats until Jack can talk with the Railroad and Minutemen in the city.
And Ellie, too, of course.
Bad enough that Jack and Nick are strolling back to Diamond City with different faces but introducing the Coursers all at once would be too much for a rightfully distrustful city.
So, Nick and Jack pick their way through the barricades around the edges of the square and come out slightly north of the entrance, Sammy Swatter greeting them as they walk by. A couple of the guards on duty give them second looks as they go by because their outfits are well-known, but their faces are not.
The doors to the city are open, but they don’t go immediately inside. Instead, they step up to the little comm unit on the side and press the button to speak to the guard on duty.
“Hey, who's manning this thing today? Jack asks the speaker.
There are a couple beats of silence.
“Uh, Danny.” comes the uncertain voice on the other side. As far as the roster goes, they could’ve gotten worse. “Who're you?”
Jack opens his mouth to say but has a moment of indecision. Is he still Rhett? Or Deacon? Or Jack? He has no idea how much of the story anybody has anymore.
“Hey Danny, it’s Nick. Could you ask Ellie to meet me at the front gate?” Nick says as he swoops in and saves Jack from fumbling their chance.
“Nick? For real?! How did you, where did you…how come you sound weird?” Danny runs the gambit of surprise, excitement and wariness in about five seconds.
“It’s the speaker, Danny. Please get Ellie and don’t tell anyone but her. Do you understand?” Nick replies, and Jack gives him a look over the top of the speaker.
They both know that Danny will blab this piece of news all over town.
“I…uh—yeah, alright. Wait there.”
“Well, that news will be all over town in ten minutes. So much for making a low-key entrance,” Jack grumbles.
“We were never gonna get away with that. But he’ll tell Ellie before he goes and shouts it out in the Market.”
“Hopefully. We need Ellie to keep them from shooting us.”
“I won’t let anyone shoot you, kid.”
“Big words, Nick, but you and me are on the same field now. You bleed just like me. And I even have a cybernetic arm now, so we're closer than ever! You'll rethink taking a bullet for me real fast once you realize how much they hurt.”
Nick frowns at him ever so slightly. “What happened to your arm?
“Madison didn’t tell you? Mac blew a hole clean through my shoulder, and they couldn’t save it. I'm a robot from here down.” Jack points to left shoulder down to his fingers.
Nick touches his hand, turning it over in his. This is the first time they’ve touched skin-to-skin since Shaun cursed Nick. Jack's heart skips. Is Nick breaking through a little? He's being so gentle with Jack.
“Are you okay with that?” Nick asks after a moment.
Jack gives him a faintly confused look. “Why wouldn’t I be? Sure, they took my arm without asking, but I would rather have an arm than no arm. It’s not like they stuck me in a synth without askin'.”
Jack says this to highlight that what they did to his body is insignificant compared to what they did to Nick, figuring he's upset at what happened to him.
Nick's not. At least not at this moment.
“Yet,” Nick replies.
“What?” Jack demands and snatches his hand from Nick's grasp. “Are you seriously still hung up on that? On JH? I—I cannot believe this.”
Jack backs up, putting space between them. After JH literally picked up the broken pieces of Jack, after he promised to help Nick, after JH was the only thing keeping Braun at bay both physically and mentally while Jack was in that hell, Nick still dares to not only question JH's intentions but also Jack's ability to see bullshit from a mile away?
No.
He is not having this argument again.
“Believe what? Henry told me that’s what he wants. Ask him yourself.”
“I don’t care what JH wants,” Jack hisses. “I’ll make up my own damn mind about what happens to me.”
Nick opens his mouth to argue further (Jack can see the edges of the mulish looks he gets when he thinks Jack is being reckless), but he is absolutely not talking about this again. Especially not like this.
“No,” Jack says, cutting Nick off with a slicing gesture. “We’re not talking about this.”
He walks away from Nick then, fuming, and sits on the edge of Sammy Swatter's statue. He can feel Nick's eyes on him, but Nick stubbornly stays next to the comm unit. Which is just fine by Jack.
The guards posted nearby seem especially interested in the rubble around them, a clear indication that their fight was too loud and attracted attention. Not a great way to make a reintroduction to town, but it's too late to take it back.
It takes a few minutes more for Ellie to appear at the top of the stairs inside the entrance. Jack can see the edges of her light-coloured skirt peaking out from the shadows. Then she bursts through the arches and into the sunlight, immediately catching sight of Jack and rushing across the square.
As she all but jumps into his arms, he figures she must see the getup first and foremost, not what happened to his face or hair.
“Oh God, we were so worried about you!” she says into the hard edges of his vest and hugs him tight.
Jack feels a surge of happiness for the first time in a long time. He picks Ellie up, twirls her around as she laughs, and grips his shoulders. As he sets her back down, Nick comes up behind them. Ellie touches Jack’s face and smirks slightly.
“Different again, hmm?”
“Ah, but this one is the original.” Jack tips his sunglasses up. “Be honest; how bad is it?”
A mix of emotions flit by on her face, but she smiles after a moment.
“The best yet.”
Jack almost sighs with relief and lets the glasses fall back on his nose. “Hey, thanks, I grew it myself.”
Ellie chuckles and steps out of the circle of Jack’s arms; she turns to look for Nick and stops short when she sees the synth wearing Nick’s clothes.
“Hey, Ellie,” Nick says, keeping a careful distance. “Jack ain’t the only one who got a new look.”
“…Nick? What? How?” She puts her hands over her mouth, and for a moment, Jack thinks she might freak out, but then another bout of laughter spills forth. He should’ve known better. Nothing phases Ellie. “Oh my god, Nick!” Ellie moves forward and touches Nick’s arms and face. She walks a circle around him, taking it all in.
When she comes back around, she pulls Nick into a hug. “I’m so glad to have you back. No matter what you look like,” Ellie says, holding him tight for a long time. Nick hesitantly hugs her back like he isn’t sure he won’t hurt her. After a time, she pulls back far enough to kiss his cheek and then steps back so she can look at them both. “Well, this is certainly going to make the news. Piper will have a field day. How do you want to play this?”
“I mean, Danny has already spilled the beans, so not attracting attention is definitely out,” Jack says.
“No matter what you two did, there would be no sneaking into town in the middle of the day. Piper would have a bead on you in five seconds,” Ellie replies.
“Even in the dark,” Nick adds. “And I’d rather not have to tell the story a hundred times.”
Ellie nods. “I think we should have a town meeting this evening. That way, you can explain, and people can question because the face thing on Deacon isn’t exactly surprising, but Nick, you’re gonna cause a bit of a stir.”
Nick nods.
“In the meantime, you’re gonna have to brace against whatever masses are waiting, but I’ll do my best to quell the crowd and get you guys back to the Agency.”
“I gotta talk with Garvey and Carrington first,” Jack says. “If he’s still here.”
“He is,” Ellie confirms. “I suspect he’ll be waiting for you with Garvey at the Minutemen HQ.”
“Alright,” Jack says and claps his hands together. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
As they climb the stairs into the stadium bowl, Jack wonders if their supposition that there would be a crowd is wrong because things are quiet. He would expect the noise of people shuffling and talking and existing in a tight space. However, as they crest the top and step into the sunlight, he realizes that the gathered crowd is silent with anticipation.
They clearly didn’t know what to expect given the Institute’s reputation, and now that Jack and Nick are before them, with Ellie leading the way, they still don’t know what to say. Every eye in the place is drawn to Nick, and he nods at a few of the closes people murmuring hellos and talking to people by name. Go figure, the best way to disappear in a crowd is to be beside the guy everyone is staring at. It’s like Jack doesn’t exist, which is just fine by him. He’s got things to do today, and he doesn’t need the people of Diamond City dogging his steps.
Better that Nick deals with it; he’s their favourite son, after all.
Jack touches Ellie’s arm as they descend the stairs to get her attention.
“Can I come by your office later? I need to talk to you about somethin’,” Jack says sotto.
Ellie nods. “Of course,” she replies, voice equally low.
After a couple more steps, Ellie stops. They’re about halfway down.
“I’m sure everyone has a lot of questions for Nick and Jack and what happened to them in the Institute, how they made it back, and why things are…different now,” Ellie says to the crowd. “So, I am calling a town meeting this evening at 6 p.m. sharp. Come early and get a seat. They will answer all your questions. For now, please allow Nick to return to the Agency and Jack to talk with the Minutemen without stopping them. It’s been an ordeal for them both, and we need to give them some space.”
There’s a moment where nothing happens as the crowd stands and gawks, but Ellie frowns and puts her hands on her hips, which seems to kick the people into gear. Her expression brokes no argument about hanging around to pester them. If they're lucky, that will last until they get where they need to go, but if not, at least Nick will serve as a distraction and allow Jack to get away.
“Are you gonna come by the Agency later?” Nick asks, moving his body to talk with Jack in a low tone.
“Are you going to question my judgement again?”
Nick sighs. “I just want you to be safe.”
“Nothing’s safe, but can’t you at least trust me to navigate my life and relationships?”
“…Yeah,” Nick agrees, but it sounds more like resignation if Jack had to pin an emotion to it. Of course, he’s probably just hearing the ghost of emotions from arguments past.
He grips Nick’s arm for a moment in acceptance of his words before he sets off.
Jack heads down Home Street, and Nick goes through the market, the eyes of the Diamond City following him.
In the West Stands, Jack can see that the Minutemen did their best to make the home seem more like their headquarters and not a cast off from a borrowed city. The houses around it are full of the refugees from Quincy, and in the month since he’s been here last, they look less stark and more lived in. Like the people are trying to settle even if they haven’t decided if they want to stay here permanently.
People are out on their roofs and balconies, watching Jack as he climbs the stairs to the Minutemen HQ. There’s anticipation in the air, and Jack hopes he doesn’t disappoint.
Inside the house, he can hear the sounds of conversation from the War Room (which is about to really live up to that name), but when the door closes behind him, the conversation abruptly dies. Well, so much for making a quiet entrance. He’s resigned to never getting to be stealthy again, no more hugging the edges of a room as Deacon.
He’s Jack once more. The Lone Wanderer. And that’s a title that doesn’t hug the edges of any room.
He takes a moment to psych himself up before he steps into the War Room.
As he crosses the threshold, the eyes in the room land on him. Jack has the right clothes but doesn’t have the right face, so he lets the group look at him for a moment before pulling off his sunglasses.
It's hard to be so barefaced to them, to take that last shield against people and set it aside, but an aloof leader won't win hearts and minds, so Jack's got to set his own comfort aside for now.
“Somehow, I imagined that seeing your true face again would morph you back into that young man in the Capital, and we could all gain a little time back,” Carrington says as he gives Jack a faint smile from across the table.
“Sorry to disappoint, Doc, but I've got character now. I'm like a terminal screen with dust on the inside of the glass.”
Carrington huffs a breath of laughter. “I'm glad you made it back alive, even if we all still have the same fine lines. Henry's doing?”
“I mean, it was a joint effort, but yeah. Kinda hard to beat an A.I. infiltrating your systems. Just glad he’s on our side,” Jack replies
“I think it’s more like he’s on your side, which is almost, but not quite the same thing.”
Jack shrugs, not really agreeing but also not wanting to argue, and turns to Garvey, nodding at Davis and Garrett. “Hey Preston, you hold down the fort while I was gone?”
“Yessir. We’ve done major recruiting and set up smaller divisions in Bunker Hill and Goodneighbour.”
Jack raises his eyebrows, a little surprised at the initiative but pleased. “Impressive. How are things going on that front?”
“Well, General, with Miss Wright and Mayor Perkins' help, we distributed the holotape message to the people around the Commonwealth. Not everyone knows the story of the Lone Wanderer, but the people want change. They’re starting to see the Minutemen are something to believe in again.”
There’s a moment where Jack looks at Preston with some confusion and surprise. Then he realizes that back out in the Market, Ellie called him Jack as well. He didn’t even think much of it because Nick was there, but why would she have said that to the populace when they should know him as Deacon? He looks at Carrington.
Carrington frowns slightly, annoyed. “So, he didn’t tell you.”
“Who tell me what?”
“Henry. He made a holotape with a version of your history in the Capital to rally people to the Minutemen. He gave it to me when we were at Ticon,” he gestures between himself and Preston. “At the time, I didn’t know what was on it, but we listened to it with Ellie before approving it for distribution.”
“Oh. So, I’m really laid bare here. Wow…. A heads up would’ve been nice, but I do get how there wasn’t exactly time to spring that on me.”
Jack holds back a sigh. No wonder Nick was on about JH again. Would it kill the A.I. to dial back the Machiavellian machination? He’s going to give Nick a conniption. Jack scrubs the side of his face and looks at the gathered Minutemen.
“Well, there ya go. Not much to look at, I know and lacking my signature vault suit and Pipboy.”
“It wasn’t hard to believe after what you did for us in Quincy,” Preston says, and Davis and Garrett nod.
Jack thinks about deferring that victory to the Minutemen rather than him doing anything special, but the point is to get them to follow, so he shouldn’t undermine himself. He just nods in appreciation of the comment instead.
“Well, now that we’re all on the same page regarding my past, let me bring you up to speed about what happened in the Institute. After, Carrington, I want to discuss what’s next for the Railroad.” Carrington nods, and Jack moves to lean forward on the table. “But before I get started, I want to be clear in this moment that we’re going to war. The Brotherhood is about to roll up on the Commonwealth in force, and they’ll be lookin’ for the Institute. Which means they’ll have to dig in and make fortifications for a long-term assault.
“If we don’t want to end up like the Capital Wasteland, we’ll have to fight tooth and nail to keep what’s ours. So, if that isn’t what you signed up for, I need to know right now. I won’t hold it against you, but either you’re in this fight, or you leave.”
There’s silence from the collective Minutemen, and Jack looks around the room, confirming their choice to stay and fight. He’s about to open his mouth to continue when they again hear the front door opening. Jack turns slightly to look behind himself to see who’s late to the party.
After a moment, Piper appears in the threshold of the War Room. Jack turns fully to look at her.
“You are such a fucking asshole,” Piper says, glaring at him. “All this time. All this damn time, you were holding on to the biggest story to hit the Commonwealth since the Broken Mask Incident, and you didn’t say shit to me.”
Jack opens his mouth to say something along the lines of that he didn’t want to tell her because he didn’t tell anyone, and he knew she’d die trying to keep that secret, but Piper doesn’t let him speak.
“I swear to God, Jack if the next words out of your mouth are ‘It’s cause you’re a reporter, Piper,’ I will hit you.”
Then, he notices she’s a little teary-eyed, and he immediately feels like a heel. She thinks he didn’t say anything because he had a reason like Arturo, and while it did cross his mind, that’s not why.
“Piper, I know you aren’t a gossip. There’s a difference between that and being a reporter. I know you’d’ve kept the secret, but I just couldn’t let anyone else hold it. Not because of them but because of me. I’m sorry you found out when I wasn’t here.”
“Yeah…I—okay,” she says and scrubs her eyes, accepting his words. “But don’t think for one minute that I am not going to be on your ass from now on. And I am not leaving now either. This is exposé level shit here, and when this is all done, there will be a ten-part series on all this.” Piper gestures in a circle in front of her.
The Minutemen look from Piper to Jack, and he crosses his arms. Piper looks like she’s about to argue further when Jack says,
“You think ten parts is going to be enough? You might have to write a book.”
Piper smiles slightly, relaxing, and fishes out her notebook. “Then I’ll write a book.”
Jack nods once and turns around to face the Minutemen. He waves Piper over to stand beside him.
“So, short version first,” Jack starts. “JH and I took over the Institute. As they were, the Institute is done. They’re now part of our effort to kick the Brotherhood out of the Commonwealth.”
There’s a shocked quiet for a moment, then Carrington says, “And the long version?”
“Well, since Mac kindly blew a hole in my shoulder with that cannon of his, I woke up in the Institute thinking I’d lost the use of it…”
\\
It takes him a couple of hours to get through the whole story. Carrington tosses questions about the structure and organization of the Institute, while Preston asks what they’re bringing to the table for the war effort.
About halfway through, a recruit brings him a bottle of cold Nuka Cola on Davis' instruction, and Jack gratefully chugs nearly half of it. It’s the best damn thing he's had in a long time, and he nods his thanks.
Piper is mostly quiet. She makes a comment here and there, but she's busy writing. He suspects he'll have to give an actual interview before it’s all said and done, and that’s when he'll get the pointed questions.
He doesn’t tell them about Nick, about what Shaun did to him. It'll probably be apparent soon enough, but it’s already a hurdle that Nick looks way different, never mind the rest. He'll probably privately tell Carrington, Preston and Piper, but for now, he keeps that part of the tale to himself.
He also skims over the part where he was tortured for a month. It doesn’t add anything to the story; everyone already knows the Institute are bastards. The only thing he'll get is some sympathy and others questioning his ability to function. Jack doesn’t need that right now when they’ve got a war to worry about. Carrington gives him a look when he talks about Kellogg coming to see him in the cell, but whether that’s just the mention of Kellogg or that he notices Jack sidestepping mentions of the cell almost entirely, he can’t tell.
Not that Carrington will leave him in the dark for long.
With the tale told, Jack instructs Preston to put together a briefing on what they’ve been up to regarding recruiting and the numbers gathered so far. Then he gestures to Carrington, and they step into the kitchen.
Piper follows, and Jack gives her a smirk as she settles into a chair. He leaves the doors open because this isn’t a secret meeting, but he also doesn’t need eyes on him from the various recruits in the War Room while Preston, Davis and Garrett prepare their briefing.
“Thank you for looking after Preston,” Jack says to Carrington as he grabs a seat at the kitchen table.
Carrington nods. “It was two birds with one stone, really. He didn’t look well enough to make it to Diamond City, and I needed to go to Ticon to talk with Henry after your little code phrase.”
“Surprised Dez let you do that,” Jack replies.
Carrington crosses his arms on the tabletop. “She didn’t have a choice. They’ve settled in the Old Church for now, in any case. I haven’t been personally, but a few runners have been dealing in dead drops for us. And Rave survived Augusta.”
There’s a moment of silence for that news; as good as it is, it just highlights how many were lost when the Institute raided them. And now they’re working together. What a wild change in such a short time.
“I’m glad someone made it out. Though, she’s probably not too happy to be the only survivor,” Jack replies, thinking of Mender and how everything fell apart.
“No. I think the guilt would eat her alive if she didn’t have her faith. She’s having a hard time, but High Rise is looking after her.”
Jack nods. “Good.”
“Can I ask what happened?” Piper says, scribing furiously on her notepad; after a moment, she looks up when neither one immediately talks.
Jack and Carrington share a silent conversation, and after a moment, Carrington gestures to Jack and says, “It’s as much your story as hers. If you want to tell Piper, I won’t stop you.”
Jack considers for a moment longer, but the wound remains fresh and ragged. He hasn’t had much time to process anything that happened at the Switchboard or Augusta, and he doesn’t want to get into it right now. The Lone Wanderer has little enough sanity to work with as it is.
“Honestly, Piper, I don’t want to talk about it right now. It’s not a ‘never,’ but uh…yeah. It was rough. A lot of friends died.”
She nods. “We heard some of it from High Rise, but I understand. The Railroad has had a few black eyes lately.”
“That’s putting it mildly,” Carrington mutters.
“Anyways, back to Dez,” Jack says after giving Piper a grateful look. “I’m gonna have to go to the Old Church and talk to her. We aren’t hiding anymore. Not from the Institute. Ticon is better located and has communication access to JH. I want that to be our base of operations for the Railroad. Frankly, if I thought I could talk them back into the Switchboard, that would be even better, but I can understand not wanting to step foot in there again.”
Carrington gives him a long look, and he can’t tell if it's approving or not. “You plan on fighting a duel for leadership, then?”
“Nah, I’ll just kill her with kindness.”
Carrington hums; it's frustratingly neutral. “Well, something tells me you aren’t accepting no for an answer.”
“Not these days. But hey, I wrangled the Institute into line, and they’re basically children in fancy coats. I can get Dez to come around. With your help, of course.”
Carrington considers Jack for a long moment, so much so that Jack wonders if he’s lost Carrington’s support.
“You don't agree?”
Carrington dismissively shakes his head, discarding Jack’s question. “Things are changing fast. I just wonder how much further along we'd be if you'd decided to do this sooner.”
“…Oh.”
“You've always chaffed at the binds of the Railroad’s hierarchy, and frankly, I’ve wondered on more than one occasion why you didn’t make an effort to be more than just a heavy. Knowing what I know now, it sort of makes sense, but it also makes even less.” Carrington then dismisses the thought with a hand wave. “What’s done is done. Wishing a different outcome helps nothing. And if you think I hold any sway over Dez, you're sorely mistaken. I’ll accompany you, just don’t expect a miracle.”
“Thank you. And I think Dez listens to you more than you know.”
Carrington snorts at that.
They tentatively decide to head out to the Old Church after Jack gets a chance to talk with Butch so he can bring some hard data about the Brotherhood back to Dez and make a better case for moving. He knows Dez will be stubborn about this and hurting since Sly Nick died, but the Old Church is a shithole. It’s an emergency shelter for a reason and not meant to be a headquarters in any fashion.
Ticonderoga will serve the Railroad better.
Jack gets briefed in the War Room with Preston on current Minutemen numbers. When they left Quincy, about fifteen made it out alive from the twenty or so that were there initially. Then they lost another three that decided being Minutemen wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.
After the holotape message was distributed, membership in Diamond City went up to twenty once again, with twelve joining in Goodneighbour and eight in Bunker Hill. Preston assigned Sergeant Bear to look after the ones in Goodneighbour since she grew up in town and has the necessary sharpness to handle them, and Sergeant Jackson was assigned to Bunker Hill.
They’ve been training the new recruits as best they can, with most still at their regular day jobs.
“We got a stipend from the Quincy populace to use their town as a base and provide protection as needed,” Preston says, “Hollis was thrifty with our caps, and lots of people in town donated supplies or services as needed. Thankfully, Jackson had the foresight to grab our caps when we left, but they’re nearly gone now. We’re going to need more caps to fund expansion.”
Jack nods. They can’t depend on Diamond City providing them with any real funds right now, but he expects most people will open their wallets when the Brotherhood goes from playing nice with the populace to stealing things at gunpoint.
“I have about 1500 caps personally that I will give to the coffers,” Jack says, “That should help keep us afloat, but from now on, we’re setting up scouting and scaving missions. Plenty of old military places around here haven’t been looted because of the security still in place. JH can handle most of those problems for us, but we don’t need just caps, but guns, ammo, armour, and power armour.”
The Minutemen around him nod eagerly.
“So, first things first. I have a bunch of things I need to do for the next week to get back up to speed; Preston, organize scouting missions to all known military buildings; we need to know what we’re up against. Send runners to Goodneighbour and Bunker Hill and tell Bear and Jackson to take the most competent of their groups out and scout in those areas as well. That should provide the training they need and eyes for us. No direct confrontations unless absolutely unavoidable, understood?”
“Yes, General,” Preston replies, looking entirely too happy to be saying that.
“Secondly, since I’m now General, we’re all getting promotions. Preston, you’re my Colonel.”
Preston’s expression saddens for a moment before he straightens and nods.
“Davis—what’s your first name?” Jack asks, realizing he has no idea and probably should know these people better if he’s going to send them to war.
“It’s Vivian, sir. I prefer Viv, though.”
“Okay, Viv, you’re our new Captain.”
“Yes, General,” she replies with a grin.
“Garett, you’re now a Lieutenant.”
Garett nods. “Thank you, Sir.”
“Preston, inform Sergeant Bear,” he points at Davis,
“Kelsey, Sir.”
“Thank you, inform Kelsey that she is also a Lieutenant, and do the same for Sergeant Jackson,” he points at Davis again.
“Xander, Sir.”
“Will do, General,” Preston says.
“And make sure that all the surviving members of the Quincy Minutemen move up in rank. Viv, please get me a list of all current members with names and ranks so I don’t look like a total moron when talking to them. Excepting now, of course.”
Jack looks at the rest of the Minutemen in the room. “I’m sorry I don’t know all your names right now, but that will change. Thank you for sticking around or signing up. This isn’t an easy job on the best of days, and things are only going to get tougher from here on out, but I promise to be right there in the trenches with you.”
//
Jack spends a couple more hours with the Minutemen, trying to get caught back up on all the things he missed while he was gone. Which was a lot.
Like trying to hack their way into the Institute by cracking open Courser skulls, which has got to be the single craziest idea, he’s ever heard. How the hell did they think they could manage to kill a single Courser, let alone five and still have people left alive to actually build the interrupter or interceptor or whatever the hell JH said might work.
He’s immensely grateful that it didn’t come to that, not only because he’s buried enough friends but also because he needs the Coursers to kick Brotherhood ass.
In any case, when lunchtime rolls around, it provides a needed break for everyone involved, and Jack excuses himself so he can go talk with Ellie.
“They’re gonna expect you at the bar tonight,” Piper says as they stand on the porch together.
“Preston doesn’t strike me a drinker.”
She smirks and shakes her head. “Not them. I mean everyone else.” She gestures across the breadth of the city. “But I agree. The Colonel is absolutely a teetotaller.”
Jack smiles at her word usage. “I’ll only go if you’re there.”
“How could I not be? And miss out on Diamond City’s favourites returning home? Absolutely not. Especially because now, we can get Nick absolutely shitfaced, and I wouldn’t miss that for the world.”
Jack laughs at that because it is so silly of an image that he can’t help himself. But then he remembers that Nick isn’t himself, and it just makes him heartbroken all over again. He sobers immediately.
“What’s wrong?” Piper asks, putting a hand on his arm.
“It’s not really the place to talk about it. Later, okay? But basically, new body, new problems. Nick isn’t exactly himself right now.”
Piper looks at him for a long moment, and he can see the detective gears turning in her head, but eventually, she nods. “Okay. Later. Along with everything else, right?”
“Right.”
With that said, Piper tells him she’s going to be late for her lunch date if she lingers any longer and just as she turns to go, Jack grabs her arm and pulls her into a hug. Piper is surprised for a moment, then she puts her arms around his back and holds him tight.
“Things have been awful without you around,” she tells him, sounding close to tears again. “I could’ve used your help with some crazy Children of Atom in Bunker Hill.”
“I’m sorry, Piper.”
“They almost kill me,” she whispers. “I almost left Nat all alone.”
“But they didn’t. You’re still here,” Jack replies, voice cracking, wishing he’d been around to help her. “I’m still here.”
She nods slightly, but he can feel her crying into his shoulder. He keeps his arms around her as long as she needs.
“The press is still being a real bitch, too,” Piper adds after a while, voice a little watery.
That startles a laugh out of Jack.
“Arturo did his best, but I swear the old girl only likes you.”
“I guess I’ve got the magic printing press touch,” Jack replies. “I’ll come by and have a look at it before I leave town, okay?”
“Yeah, okay.” Piper pulls back and swipes at the tears on her face. “Now I really need to go. I’m going to be so late.”
“Alright. I’ll see you later.”
Piper nods and heads out. She’s halfway down the stand stairs when it clicks in his head what she said at the start.
“Wait! Lunch with who?” he shouts at her retreating form.
Piper turns slightly to call back, “Arturo! Who else?”
Jack grins. That’s a piece of good news he needed to hear, but he can’t help messing with her just a little.
“Nitti?” he yells.
“Shut your dirty mouth!”
Jack laughs and cheerfully makes his way down into the Lowerfields.
The plan is to talk to Ellie about X6-88, so in an effort to butter her up for the coming conversation, Jack fishes some caps from the bottom of his pockets and looks at the find; about 15 caps. He doesn’t want to go to the Agency and grab his cap stash out of the safe, so noodles are out, but he should be able to get a couple of sandwiches for that.
He goes to Francine’s Bakery and steps into the small lineup. The few people there give him a couple of second looks that are wary but hopeful. Jack can understand. There have been plenty of people taken by the Institute, and sometimes they come back, but that usually means they’re a replacement. It doesn’t help that his face is different, and all his hair got shorn off, nor does it that he walked into town with a Nick Valentine that looks like a complete stranger to them all.
Carrington knows his face, he vouched for him with the Minutemen even if that wasn’t his intention, but everyone else around town only has his word that he is who he says he is. And he’s been lying about that for a long while now, too, so there are even less reasons for trust. Maybe Carrington was right; he should’ve done something sooner.
When it’s his turn at the counter, Jack orders a couple of roast brahmin sandwiches and forks over his caps when they are presented to him in a couple of wrapped packages. He thanks Francine by name and heads out. He goes down 2nd Street and around 1st to get to the Mayoral ramp instead of crossing the Market to keep a low profile.
As the elevator platform climbs, Jack looks out over Diamond City and is so thankful to be out of the Institute and back up here. Funny that he usually finds comfort in being in places deep underground, but everything about that place was a nightmare that he isn’t looking forward to visiting again.
In the foyer of Ellie’s office, Geneva is missing from her desk. Probably gone for lunch. That’s fine by him since he doesn’t have to try and convince her to let him knock on Ellie’s door; he can just do it. It’s open a crack, and he hears her distracted voice tell him to come in. As he pushes open the door, Ellie looks up from her terminal and immediately smiles when she sees who it is.
“Deacon!” she says, moving to stand and then immediately apologizes. “I’m sorry, Jack.”
“It’s fine. To be honest, still not used to hearing everyone call me that. It’s kinda weird after all this time, ya know?” he says and hands her one of the sandwiches.
“I bet. And what’s this?”
“Lunch. I figured that you gettin’ caught up in work hasn’t changed in the time I’ve been gone, and it’s pretty rude of me to roll up here without bringin’ a peace offering.”
Ellie smiles. “Frankly, I’m just so glad you’re back safe that I don’t care in the least, but I am grateful for some food.” She gestures to her little couch and table area for them to sit.
“Good. I’m starving. The food in the Institute is terrible, and I’ve been dreamin’ about having real food for ages,” Jack replies and takes a seat. He starts unwrapping his sandwich.
“Hold on a sec, I’ll grab a couple of Nuka Colas,” she says and heads off to the doorway that leads to the small apartment area of the office. Ellie comes back with the chilled bottles and sets one down in front of Jack before taking a seat and unwrapping her sandwich.
“Thanks for this,” she says before taking a large bite.
“No worries,” Jack replies, and they eat their sandwiches in silence for a time.
Ellie finishes one half and, before she starts on the other one, looks at him from across the table. “I almost can’t believe you made it back from the Institute. We all tried to prepare for it, but I’m not sure how many believed you would be back. Especially after Nick…got taken too.”
“It’s not how I expected to get down there, but the welcome was about what I expected given the stories. Which is to say, not great.”
“We feared that too,” Ellie says. “I’m here if you want to talk, ya know?”
Jack gives her a small smile. “I know. Thanks. In the meantime, I think I’ve got plenty to keep my mind off it.”
“I have no doubt about that.”
With that said, they finish the rest of their lunch, and Jack thinks about the best to go about asking to station a Courser in town.
“So, what exactly did you wanna talk about? Not that I don’t appreciate lunch, but I know you have an ulterior motive,” Ellie asks, leaning back on the couch with her Nuka Cola.
“Yeah. Well, I…” Jack sighs. “So, long story short, JH and I took over the Institute. Which is how I managed to get back to the Surface.”
“JH?” Ellie questions.
“Oh, sorry. Henry, or maybe Eden? I don’t know how much Carrington told you.”
“Some, and the holotape explained other things. But yeah, he called him Henry. You call him JH?”
“Yeah. John Henry Eden, JH. I think Henry is way too formal, and Hank just doesn’t sound right, so JH. I don’t think anyone has questioned that before. Huh.” Jack considers that for a moment. “Also, no one else calls him that, so…yeah. But no one else calls me John, so we’re even on that, I guess.”
“You don’t really look like a John. That sounds more like your father’s name, ya know? ‘Don’t call me John; that’s my old man.’” Ellie smirks at him from across the coffee table.
“Yeah, I suppose. That wasn’t his name, though. And now that I think of it, he never went by a nickname.”
“James,” Ellie says quietly.
Jack nods. “Maybe I should listen to that holotape. Sounds like all kinds of things got laid bare that I don’t know about.”
“Nick was not happy when he heard it. I’m not sure I’ve seen him so angry before.”
Probably the last time Ellie will see Nick angry for a long while.
“The content or the creator?” Jack questions.
“Both. He definitely doesn’t like Henry and was pretty mad at Carrington too. But he was angrier that the narrative wasn’t strictly true, or at least to him, it wasn’t. I mean, the rest of us have no idea, so you’ll have to judge for yourself.”
“Do you have it?”
Ellie nods and stands from the couch. She goes to her safe and, after a moment, unlocks the door. She fishes the tape out and locks the safe again before returning to the couch. She hands the holotape to Jack.
“That’s the original. We’ve made copies since, but we all figured we should keep the original safe in case there are edits made.”
Jack turns it over in his hand. Nothing remarkable about it, just a simple holotape like the hundred of others kicking around the Wasteland. Kind of funny how it’s all come full circle to another precious holotape.
“Thanks. I’ll return it after I’ve listened to it.”
“I mean, you can keep it. It’s basically yours.”
Jack shakes his head and pockets the tape. “Nah. I’ve lived it, Ellie. Better that it's in your safe than Nick’s. Anyways, the actual reason that I’m here, the Institute, like I said, JH and I run it now.”
Ellie nods. “I suspected since that was the best-case scenario that was discussed, though I am sorry there wasn’t more shock and awe from me. I got sidetracked on the JH versus Henry thing. Frankly, it’s amazing and hard to believe that they’re neutralized now.”
“It’s fine,” Jack says and waves her off. “I’m expecting Dez to fully faint away when I tell her, but as much as they affected your lives, they also didn’t. Not the same way the Railroad was affected. All that to say, the Coursers are now taking orders from me, and I’ve assigned them to areas around the Commonwealth to watch for and report on Brotherhood incursions.
“Two of them I want to be stationed here and in Goodneighbour. As the largest settlements, I’m expecting the Brotherhood first to play nice and trade and later get much more aggressive in taking resources. Coursers have the ability to communicate directly with the Institute and provide JH with urgent updates as needed. Obviously, I don’t want to just put one here without your approval, so if you’d rather not have one in town, then I’ll have them keep to the perimeter.”
“…Oh,” Ellie says after a moment, clearly surprised by the request, but she takes a minute to consider what he’s asking. “I’d…like to meet them first. Or the one you want to station here. Not that I’m going to say no because I can understand the strategic importance, just that I’d like to see for myself outside of Diamond City what this Courser agent is like.”
“I can make that happen. Tomorrow?”
Ellie nods. “Tomorrow. I’ll tell Geneva to keep my morning free.”
- - - - -
News that the Prydwen had taken off from the Citadel had spread like wildfire through the Capital. Every caravanner and mercenary was talking about it as they passed through Megaton.
Moira climbed the Megaton wall behind Nova’s bar and looked out over the expanse of the Wasteland. Usually, when the radiation haze cleared, like today, she could see clear down to Rivet City, and ever since the Brotherhood of Steel built their airship, it could also be clearly seen suspended in the air.
Today it’s gone.
She frowns slightly at that, wondering what other Wasteland the Brotherhood has decided to invade. Moira was a child when the Brotherhood first appeared in the Capital, and things were tense until people learned that they were trying to help. However, when both Elder Lyons’ died, they became extremely militaristic and stopped helping people. Becoming a force that was no longer loved in the Capital but distrusted by its people because of their aggressiveness and lack of empathy.
She’s heard caravanners say that this is what the Brotherhood is like in other parts of the Wasteland, and they’ve just returned to their roots. If that’s the case, it’s a downgrade for everyone involved.
Behind her, Moira hears someone climbing up, and she looks down. Jonas is a few feet below her, clinging to the various jutting pieces of the barricade.
“Is it really gone?” he asks, not venturing up further to see for himself. Jonas doesn’t like heights and certainly doesn’t like Moira’s cavalier attitude towards heights or anything dangerous.
Probably a holdover from his days in the vault.
Then again, Jack was never too afraid of dangerous things, making them the best kind of friends. He was the perfect research assistant, and she’s never found someone else willing to test her theories with such panache.
Despite his worrying nature, Moira appreciates Jonas, even if his caution sometimes annoys her.
“Yep. Definitely not hovering menacingly in the sky anymore.”
“Just flying menacingly somewhere else,” Jonas replies.
Moira nods and starts climbing down. They meet on the walkway, and she gives Jonas a peck on the cheek.
“Clinic not busy today?” she asks.
Jonas shakes his head. “Most people have congregated at Nova’s since the news came in. Wadsworth knows to hit the emergency light if a bad case comes in.”
Their last doctor, Church, left Megaton when the Brotherhood started expanding in the Capital. He seemed to see the writing on the wall about them going from helpful to harmful and up and left them without a doctor. When Jonas arrived in town trailing a caravan and looking haunted, it ended up working in both their favours. Megaton needed a doctor, and Jonas needed somewhere safe to stay.
It wasn’t until later, when Jonas managed to brave the inside of her shop (because you set one little, tiny chemical fire and everyone brands you a danger to life and limb), and he saw the Jack’s old, armoured vault suit that she learned that he too had come from Vault 101. In total, she’s met ten Vault 101 residents since she was a teen, but now there are only three left.
“Okay. Should we down there too?” she asks, but Jonas shakes his head.
Since returning to the Capital Wasteland after escaping a slave encampment and moving east to JFK, Jonas doesn’t like to go into crowded spaces alone. He prefers someone else with him, which Moira is usually happy to provide.
“Alright, then, let's go home. It’s pretty clear out; maybe that signal will be back!”
Jonas gives her a rueful smile and slots his hand in hers. They walk back along the ramps to her shop, Moira happily filling the quiet with her ideas for her next issue of Wasteland Survival Guide.
When they return, Lucas and Harden are leaning on the railing outside her shop. They hear their boots on the metal boards and turn to face Moira and Jonas as they approach.
Lucas tips his hat in greeting, but Harden smiles and hugs Moira. His old man may have bad memories of Moira's experiments, but Harden always had a more adventurous spirit.
“It’s good to see you, but I thought you weren’t going to be back for a couple of weeks,” Moira says as Jonas shakes Lucas' hand.
“Wasn’t planning on it, but the bounty was quick—”
“That airship taking off served as a huge distraction, and we took full advantage,” Harden interrupts with a grin, and he mimes a bullet blowing brain matter out of the side of his head.
Lucas frowns slightly at that. “And Harden wants to follow it east.”
“Is that a good idea?” Jonas asks.
“We're barely surviving out here with the Brotherhood’s boot on us, and they just took off to fuck with another Wasteland? No way,” Harden says. “I don’t know what we're going to do to stop them, but we gotta warn whoever it is.”
“We came back to get some supplies,” Lucas says. “And I hope I can return one trap for my caps.”
“Of course, but you have to translate my signal before you go,” Moira replies and moves to unlock her shop door.
“If it’s on or you have the stuff written down, sure,” Lucas replies, and they step into Craterside Supply.
Moira moves behind her counter as Lucas fishes out the trap. As she inspects its condition for a refund, Jonas goes back to her office to check on the status of the signal. The trap seems in mint condition, and Moira goes to her safe to pull out the 75-cap refund. Jonas calls back that the signal is running on a loop again, and Lucas directs Harden to pocket the money while he goes to the terminal.
When the caps are counted and the safe closed, Moira heads back to her office, bouncing on the balls of her feet in excitement. She’s longed to know what the signal was trying to say, and even if it’s nothing but a prewar military message or the like, it doesn’t matter. Because then, if she knows what it says, she can teach herself the code. That way, in future, if any other messages come along like this, she can translate them too!
Lucas listens intently in her headphones as the signal repeats. She can hear the low tones of the beeps as Lucas tries to get a handle on the start and stop points of the message. After a minute or so, he mines for some paper and pencil, and Moira grabs her clipboard and the pencil behind her ear and hands them over.
He starts writing some words, then crosses them out and taps the pencil on the paper like he’s trying to find the rhythm of the signal.
When he starts again, Moira lets out an excited squeal because the first word is her name, but she quickly covers her mouth to keep the noises quiet because Lucas waves her off and misses a few words for the distraction.
And then a few more because of rusty skill.
It probably takes a good dozen rounds of the signal repeating before he gets the message down and is confident of the accuracy of his translation. Lucas hands the paper to Moira, and Jonas leans over her shoulder to see it. She reads the message aloud.
Moira,
Jack is alive and out east in the Commonwealth. He needs your help. Please come to the ruins of Boston to a settlement called Diamond City. You will find him there.
There’s no send-off or indication of who wrote the message. Harden high-fives Moira, and Lucas takes the message from her hand to reread again.
“Seems a little strange that someone is signalling you all the way from the Commonwealth,” Lucas says. “Especially on Jack’s behalf. Why didn’t he send the message himself? And who has the signal range to transmit this far aside from the Brotherhood?”
“It does seem a little odd,” Jonas agrees. “But there’s lots of tech at JFK; maybe the signal bounces forward from there. Or maybe there’s even more tech out in this Commonwealth.”
“Still doesn’t explain the lack of signature on the message,” Lucas replies.
“It probably had to be as concise as possible to make it this far and still be understandable repeated. Sender id is superfluous information,” Moira says, promptly turning from the group and heading back into her shop.
She already made up her mind. If Jack needs her in the Commonwealth, she’s going to the Commonwealth. Besides, she’s always wanted to travel. This will be a fun adventure! Moira grabs the ladder that leans against the far wall and props it open next to her display of Jack’s old vault suit. She climbs up and starts pulling it down to pack it up.
“Moira, what’re you doing?” Jonas asks as he comes around to hold the ladder for her because she has a habit of leaning precariously off the side.
“We’re going to Commonwealth, and obviously, Jack will need his vault suit. And his Pipboy. You should get it out of the safe.”
“Is it wise to follow the direction of a message when you don’t know the author? Lucas asks.
“Well, Lucas, if I ever did anythin’ in my life that was wise, I wouldn’t’ve written books or started this store or left Canterbury Commons or befriended a lost and scared Vault dweller that came into town looking for his dad,” Moira replies throwing the vault suit over her shoulder and climbing down off the ladder. “Sometimes you just have to do what you feel is right and never mind what other people think about it.”
Harden smiles at her from beside his dad and thumps a fist on Lucas’ shoulder. “We should travel together. Better luck in numbers, and we could probably find a caravan to tag along with.”
Neither Jonas nor Lucas looks happy about that prospect. After a moment, Lucas sighs and scrubs a hand over his beard.
“Look, it’s at least a week's journey to the Commonwealth. We are few, and getting on with a caravan and their guards will cost a lot of caps. Maybe we should send feelers out to the surrounding settlements and see if anyone is willing to help us get there for a reasonable price. There's gotta be some merc or guard or wanderer that knows the best path, and if we can find other people to help split the cost, we might still have some caps left over when we get there.”
Jonas nods slightly, warming to the idea and looks at Moira. She considers for a moment and then nods with much more enthusiasm.
“Sounds like a great plan, Dad,” Harden says, “You talk to people here, and I'll go to Big Town. If we don’t find anyone in those places, we move on to Rivet City and Canterbury Commons. We’ll probably collect some more people along the way.” Harden pulls a pocket watch from his jeans and checks the time. “Still enough daylight left to make it there before dark.”
“Alright. Be careful. And give me half those caps. I’m gonna need a place to stay while you’re gone,” Lucas says.
“You can bunk in the clinic,” Jonas says. “If you don’t mind that I may have to wake you in the middle of the night if there’s an emergency. Save you the caps of a room.”
“I appreciate that offer, thank you.”
“Well, I better get going,” Harden says. “Should I come back in a few days?”
Lucas nods. “That should be plenty of time to find anyone willing to take us or join us.”
“But not a lot of time to close shop. You better go get Wadsworth, Jonas. I'm going to need his help sorting this mess,” Moira says. “The best scrap is getting sold in Rivet City on our way through.”
- - - -
It’s dusk when the caravan catches sight of the lights of JFK in the distance.
MacCready can hear the caravanner, Josie, talking with their head guard, Boxer, about whether or not they should press forward and try and make it to the settlement or just call it a night and finish the last couple of hours in the morning. Personally, he’d prefer the break.
Things have mostly quieted as the sun started to set, and the sound of the ocean breaking along the shoreline next to the old highway is a calming background noise. Usually, during the day, plenty of conversations happen in the group: people talking about where they’ve been, what they’ve done, and who they’ve worked with, but as the sun gets low, people get quiet. Even out in the open, it's an unspoken rule to keep quiet in the coming dark, even more so now that they’re heading through the ruins of New York. The shift between bright light and gloomy night makes them more of a target, and their noisy enough with the brahmin and their jangling packs; no need to add to it with conversation.
MacCready hears a low hum pickup in the distance because of this relative quiet. He isn’t sure he’s hearing anything since it seems to come and go on the slight breeze, and part of him thinks that it’s the low light is just playing tricks on him. However, it gets so persistent that he moves off the road and stops walking to fully concentrate on listening.
One of the hired mercs, like him, walks up beside him. “Somethin’ up?” he asks lowly, thinking maybe MacCready spotted trouble.
“You don’t hear that?” Mac asks, looking up at the man, Ray.
He’s older, grey starting at his temples; Ray shakes his head after pausing to listen for a moment. “No. Whadda you hear?”
“Like a hum or a droning noise in the distance,” Mac looks out at the horizon where the lights of JFK are winking at them.
Ray digs in his pack and pulls out a scuffed pair of binoculars. He uses them to peer into the distance and scan for anything that could be responsible for the noise. After a couple of moments, he seems to zone in on something.
“What the fuck?” he questions and hands the binoculars to MacCready. “It’s masked in the lights of JFK, something big in the sky.”
Mac looks through the binoculars to where Ray suggested. It takes him a few seconds to find what Ray had spotted. He mutters confusedly under his breath and twists the focus to try and get a better image. When it sharpens, MacCready’s stomach drops.
“The Brotherhood,” he whispers, shocked. The Prydwen, that stupid fucking blimp is actually flying through the sky, pointed east.
Jack was right. They were coming. Fuck. And he was stuck going the other way.
MacCready hands the binoculars back to Ray.
“What? What is it?” Ray questions, looking again through the lens.
“The fucking Brotherhood, that’s what,” Mac hisses and starts forward.
Never mind breaking for the night. He’s got to get to JFK and stock up. A caravan moves too slowly, and it won’t take the Brotherhood long to get to the Commonwealth flying through the sky. He must ensure Duncan is cured and then get the hell back east.
The group had moved passed Mac and Ray as they stood still, and now Mac catches back up with the caravanner at the head.
“I’m leaving,” he says, interrupting Josie and Boxer's conversation about where to bed for the night. There’s a moment of surprise from the two, and MacCready fishes out 20 caps. “Here. Half less this for not making it all the way to JFK.”
It’s standard to get half the amount caps for the trip at the beginning and the other half when they make it to the final destination, but they haven’t made it quite halfway. He gives back the caps so he doesn’t get too bad a rap for abandoning ship.
“MacCready, what the hell is going on?” Boxer demands as Mac shoves the caps in Josie’s hands.
“I gotta get home, and I can’t wait for you. Sorry,” he says and shoves his cap purse back into his bag. The droning noise is getting lower, almost vibrating the ground beneath their feet.
“Mac, we’re almost to JFK. Can’t you just stick with us for a few more hours?” Josie asks.
He shakes his head and opens his mouth to apologize again, but Boxer cuts him off with a, “What the fuck is that?”
MacCready turns, and the Prydwen is nearly on them. It looms vast and imposing in the sky, light burning from every corner, an escort of vertibirds following beside it as it gains ground. Now it's easier to tell the droning noise is that of the vertibirds, their blades cutting the still air.
He has a moment where he wants to hide and dive into the half-collapsed buildings to keep from being seen, but it’s irrational. This high up and in the coming dark, they aren’t exactly easily spotted, and furthermore, the Brotherhood isn’t going to waste resources on one small caravan. MacCready just wants to get out of sight because he remembers what it was like when the Brotherhood rolled up on Big Town and Little Lamplight, and he fears that.
They all stand there dumbstruck as the Prydwen flies over them, the noise of the vertibirds drowning out nearly all sound as they pass by. When the crashing of the ocean can be heard again, it kicks Mac back into gear, and he turns on his heel and heads down the road at a brisk pace, finding an extra store of energy somewhere. The caravan and guards behind him are too engrossed in watching the Prydwen away to pay him much mind as he disappears into the coming dark.