A Fallout fanfiction!

Apologies to those who have followed me for the past few years, with few updates. After losing the writing I did back in 2012, it has taken me a long time to get back into the feel with writing. I'm still working on it.

Well, I fell back in love with the Fallout universe once I played Fallout 4; I have a huge project for it planned, stay tuned, but I'm going to entirely pre-write that before I even begin submitting it... or at least get it 75% done. This right here, though, is something I did after thinking about how my game went. I sided with The Institute, which got me thinking, what possible in-game events could have happened to cause the Sole Survivor to lean that way, so destructive, so final...?

Long story short, I became inspired by 2 events that happened to me, one in New Vegas, the other in 4.
In NV, I did not kill Cesar, I had the privilege of watching Craig Boone bring his gun down on a stunned Cesar for the final blow.
Then, while playing 4, not long after returning the Mother Deathclaw her egg from Salem, I ran into a Brotherhood ambush, during which Piper was made unable to move the exact same way Boone took down Cesar.

That got me thinking... about this.

I hope you enjoy!

- Margot / Hitorah, now ShadowCatsKey

" Road to the Institute "
Nate/Piper - Violence/Gore - Spoilers
( Note : the Survivor's base name of Nate is used. )

As if dealing with a furious mother Deathclaw wasn't enough, the rotors of a vertibird cut through the fog, both audibly and visually. The aircraft banked sharply to the right as a power armor wearing soldier threw itself through the open door, and used a cliff-face to slow his fall. The landing brought up dust and shook the earth.

"Piper-" The Sole Survivor swiftly handed the reporter an extra fusion core.

Good thing they had brought their own Power Armor sets to the Deathclaw's nest.

Behind them, the beast began to growl, a guttural noise reminiscent of pre-war crocodiles that rose in its throat until its jaws were open in a roar, saliva dripping from its enhanced teeth.

Nate held out an arm, and the two watched as the Deathclaw lurched forward; she must have truly appreciated her offspring being returned, for she paid no attention to them, still around her nest, and instead attacked the oncoming Brotherhood of Steel soldiers. There were screams as the first Paladin was lifted into the air, and his suit shredded with ease; cadets, soldiers and other armor wearing members opened fire on the beast, who tossed metal remnants of their comrade back their way.

As much as Nate wanted to help the one Deathclaw who hadn't tried to kill him, it would be smarter to use the diversion to escape. Piper had the same idea; one glance in her direction, and they both turned back into the fog, and followed the crevice back toward the south.

They hadn't noticed the second vertibird during the initial chaos; from the top of a gently sloping hill, two more power armored soldiers and the pilots called out, and opened fire.

"Dammit all- how many are there?" Piper snapped in frustration as she went for a weapon. She had been walking in the lead; her armor already showed damage, but she returned fire with gusto.

"They probably followed us," Nate would berate himself later for the journey over open country, one that went past a damned Brotherhood storage facility no less- even if that is what the Pip-Boy map had suggested. Piper went to one knee and continued to distract the armored soldiers as Nate slipped to the other side of the crevice wall.

That vertibird had to go.

One missile had the aircraft in flames, the pilot dead, and the gunner's body mutilated; those images would guilt him later, from the burned skin to the exposed innards... Images such as those, atrocities that had once been extreme even during his days as a soldier before the war, had become too common.

One of the Brotherhood armored soldiers went to take the minigun from the plane; Piper opened fire on the fusion core on his back, stalling the suit, while Nate disposed of both the men. Power Armor was brilliant in many ways, which Nate knew well, but very few substances could withstand hits from an accelerated railway spike.

By that time, the Deathclaw had fallen- the furious screaming of a cornered, injured animal faded with the volley of the first vertibird's minigun. A stark quiet fell over the battlefield, where only the soft motion of the fog and the occasional footstep broke the silence.

"Quick-" With the fog, they could still make it out of sight-! They could get an advantage, or signal for a Minutemen barrage-! "Up the hill-"

Nate turned to grab at Piper's arm, only to miss, only to see a Brotherhood soldier, still covered in most of his scarred armor, lash out at her. The Deathclaw had done damage to this fourth armored soldier, but not enough; his suit was able to strike at the fusion core, and pull Piper down the hill in the same motion. Her armor, already weakened by the two she took out, began to fray now that it fought a piece of equal power. Shreds around her shoulders and head fell away. The suit stalled, and she was left on one knee.

Nate went for a weapon, but his shot struck back of the soldier's helmet- rounds ricocheted and buried themselves in the rock face that had once been cover.
He was out of railway spikes.

Unphased, the Brotherhood Paladin opened fire; the laser pistol drew blood, not sparks.

The Sole Survivor screamed; his voice echoed through the fog and down the chasm and drowned out the gunfire and dying noise from the vertibird that was no more. Dropping his gun to the sodden earth, the Sole Survivor used one arm to grab at the Paladin's weapon, and the other to wield the Power Fist. One strike had the Paladin stumbling sideways, a second had the same head-neck area exposed through his own armor, and a third buried metal from the armor suit into its wearer; wires crackled, skin gave; blood flowed slowly down the silver, scarred, and scorched armor as the Paladin choked on pieces that dug into his neck.

Any attempt at retaliation was stopped when Nate threw the Paladin's weapon into the flaming wreckage. With no care given to the man about to die, Nate slid down the hill, to where Piper had fallen. The fusion core in her suit glowed with its efforts to stabilize and continue to power the failing Power Armor; Nate removed it, and the suit opened to the best of its ability. His armored hands made it difficult to use care, but time was not on his side.

'Wait, no-'

Strings of curses that made sense before the war but were lost on modern ears flew from his mouth as he tried to compress the damage; the rifle had done its usual cauterizing of wounds, but there were multiple scores, exposed bone on the shoulder, flesh with no place to connect or clot, metal which had marked her skin the same way as the Paladin- Blood had pooled in the suit, stained the red jacket edges that were visible, and had slowed in its flow. It was all he could smell, so thick that there was a taste-

A stimpack had no effect.

Over the sound of his ragged, horrid breath came the hum of that first vertibird as it prepared for liftoff. Blood covered hands suddenly slackened above wounds that no longer bled. Nate's head shot up like a crazed animal, and, through the fog, he saw that the Deathclaw had not destroyed the first aircraft like he had assumed. The aircraft, with a minigun, a pilot, and a cadet still inside, struggled to gain altitude. The body was scored, and one door hung on by a thin metal sliver.

'-NO.'

Nate had two missiles remaining in his launcher. He lurched the bloody, muddy weapon onto his shoulders. The first shot was astray from his slack grip, it struck under the aircraft, and only caused it to sway as it rose.
The second went through the gap left by the damaged door, and the vertibird fell to the earth in a ball of smoke, and fire. Debris rained through the fog, onto branches, stone, and mud.

The Deathclaw lay slumped against the cliffside.

All because of a trek to return that damn egg.

Pain from the surge of adrenaline began to set in. With eyes that stared forward at the wreckage, Nate swallowed a thick, smoke filled gasp.

"...Piper?"

There was no smartass reply. There was no comment about how he ought to "help her already" with whatever wound or broken limb. No reassurance- no answer.

The quiet was absolute, with the only sound being the breaths he took through visible teeth. Slowly, his jaw clenched, his teeth still bared in fury, and also despair.

In front of him, Piper's Power Armor gave lethargic warnings about its condition and body her readings. With a slowed perception of time, Nate pulled the battered reporter from the destroyed armor. So much damage had been done to her left shoulder and neck; burns, bone, missing flesh, and metal shrapnel and clothing shreds left inside. Blood stains slipped off his own suit with ease, but smeared on his tanned skin.

He was alone, near the northern edge of the territory he had known during his pre-war life. The nearest Minutemen stronghold was a day's walk away. That Brotherhood bunker remained nearby, and reinforcements could arrive at any moment; two vertibirds could become four.
Not to mention the fauna; radscorpions, dogs, yao guai, or other deathclaws.

With Piper in one arm, Nate did all he could think to do; he opened the Pip-Boy display, and input the command to teleport to The Institute.

The thunderous noise of teleportation surrounded him, and struck as the cliffside north became polished halls and leafy greens.

Initially, the human and synth traffic continued as normal; the entrance had become mundane, and little attention was given to the entrance of Father's living parent.

However, a child froze in their tracks from where they had been playing. "Is... that blood?"

The question earned the focus of any nearby beings. Soon, two associates with green striped robes rushed to the Sole Survivor's side, metal instruments in their hands. They came to the same swift conclusion as Nate had had on the battlefield; with solemn tones, they took Piper from the Survivor, and made their way toward the Infirmary.

Nate excused himself from his battered and beaten Power Armor, and let his hand trail on a guard rail as he made his way silently up the swirling stairs. His mind, clouded but fast-paced below the surface, did not register anyone who shared the walkway- retorts and curses slipped away from combat muffled ears, and knuckle-dragging apathy.

After a period of time that felt like too long, and a distance that felt like too much, Nate found himself outside the door that lead to "Father's" room.

Whatever emotions had been felt by previous experiences in the Institute were gone, harrowed by the shock of yet more loss.

With his fingertips, he knocked on the door, and was allowed inside without delay.

"Ah, father, I was hoping to see you again..." The elder's voice sounded without prompt. "I have wanted to show you..." From the doorway that lead to his sleeping quarters, Father, Shaun, stopped. A neutral work face faded, and was replaced with concern. He may have taken a half step backward. "...What has happened? You're covered with dust and blood. You normally shower before coming here..."

His voice was broken, clipped, yet sharp : "I will help you take out the Brotherhood."

Shaun blinked once, and straightened his posture.

Nate ground his teeth. With an unsteady arm, and muscles tense beneath the blue fabric of a Vault suit, he slammed a clenched fist into the wall to his left. On the dresser, a vase fell over; beneath his hand, the paint was smeared from grime and fluids. His body shook as a mixture of wild panic, fury, and shock set in, in amounts not felt since that first day he had left the Vault. "This place... the Commonwealth..." He had to breathe, and deeply, to put what little power he had behind his words "It's taken everything."

It was true. A married man on the verge of retirement had been thrown onto a new battlefield, one that was never-ending. "My home... my plans... Nora... Piper..." He did not see Shaun's brows raise realization. "You're right. The Brotherhood of Steel need to go.

"Give me whatever you have." Nate lifted his chin, and stared forward into the eyes of the man who was his son.

"I will do whatever it takes."