Chapter 10: Friends?

The following two days at the Railroad's new headquarters were deeply unsettling. A certain unease lingered in the air signaling that untold horrors had yet to come. At least in Deacon's opinion.

Everyone else around the base seemed positively cheerful. Even Dr. Carrington the chronic killjoy had the occasional smile on his face. With the new base, how could anyone not be happy? There was enough food to keep the Railroad well fed. There were even fresh vegetables and mutfruit. On the fridge was a note from James explaining there would be more fresh food coming via dead drops. On an unrelated note, Drummer Boy had been the first to enthusiastically volunteer to pick up new dead drops. The beds in the base were clean. Or what passed as clean in the Commonwealth. Codsworth was right in saying that nothing truly gets nuclear fallout out of furniture. Their benefactor had even installed turrets, though Deacon half expected them to open fire on the base at any moment. He had even asked Tinker Tom to inspect them only for him to find nothing wrong. He was still suspicious.

"I'm headed to Sanctuary Hills."

Desdemona looked away from the map hanging on the wall. "Charmer's place? He was just here."

"Yeah well, it's the monthly companion get together AND it's karaoke night. I'm sure everyone would be just devastated if I wasn't there to serenade them with my smooth hypnotic voice."

Glory looked up from her magazine. "Charmer has a monthly get-together for his friends?"

"Companions." Corrected Deacon. "People who he has paid, tricked, or persuaded to follow him around the Commonwealth murdering everything in sight and carrying his junk. Except his robot butler, oddly enough. He isn't invited to travel anymore. Charmer didn't say why. But yes, he said it improves 'group cohesion' or something like that.'

Desdemona crossed her arms and gave him a disapproving frown. "Is this absolutely necessary? There is work that needs to be done."

"Well no, but I figure it won't hurt to stay in his good graces. He did just buy us a new base."

"You have a point. Fine, go enjoy your boys' night out."

Deacon stood up and stretched. "If I don't come back in a month, send help. I don't want to get stuck there with Garvey. He's a nice guy, but he has a freaky obsession with marking maps and making people work. Once a person gets started with maps it's a long road to recovery. I don't want to get caught up in that."

"Right..." Said Glory.

"No, seriously. Come and get me."

The journey to Sanctuary Hills was too far to make in a day, even if the traveler kept a quick and steady pace. The journey took even longer if you were a curious spy that could stand to lose a few pounds. With night approaching, Deacon made his way into Diamond City disguised in khaki pants and a white shirt. He simply intended grab some noodles from Takahashi, rent a bed at the Dugout Inn, and listen for any interesting gossip. The local gossip had moved past whether or not the Mayor's secretary was a synth and if Percy was having any sales on brooms. It had turned to the appearance of gen 1 and gen 2 synths in the Commonwealth or rather the apparent lack of them.

"Weirdest damn thing, I tell ya. One day they're at the ruins of the CIT and next they're gone. Not that I'm complaining about the new scrap from the place, but it makes you wonder. Something big must be going on, right?"

Deacon slurped his noodles and listened intently.

"They ain't gone. I heard that they're fighting the green skins. I bet one of mutants found their hideout and told the others. Now they gotta kill all of them."

"No way, mutants aren't that smart. Where did you even hear that?"

"Mercenary passed through and I overheard him talking about."

"Probably lying. They like to talk big."

"And the scavver was tellin' the truth?"

"Point made."

After that the conversation turned to the prices of mutfruit and the quality of the Bobrov brothers' booze. With no more information available, Deacon headed to the inn. Early next morning he set back out.

It took another two days, but he made it to his destination in one piece. The settlement had changed since he had last seen it. New guard posts had been set up with armed settlers behind them. On the roofs, turrets chugged away. Sturges, true to his word, had finally finished patching the open walls on the pre-war homes. There were even small individual gardens in addition to the communal one. It was beyond just surviving. It was thriving. The presence of people smiling, laughing, and working together made it almost feel homey.

"State your purpose." A young guard had a combat shotgun aimed at Deacon's face with his finger hovering near the trigger. Deacon put his hands up.

"I'm here to see James. Take me to your leader."

Preston came up behind the settler. "Easy there, Cole. He's a friend." The gun was lowered from his face and Deacon relaxed. Before he could mention his thanks, Preston motioned for him to follow. "The general has been waiting for you. He was getting worried something had happened."

"Worried about little old me? I'm touched."

This got him to smile. "He does care for his friends." After a moment he added, "Even if he does has a odd way of going about it. James' heart is in the right place, I think."

Deacon contemplated the minuteman's words. "You've never had doubts?"

"Doubts? Plenty. James can be violent, irresponsible, hell maybe even a little insane."

"But he's still the leader of Minutemen."

"He can also be considerate, protective, and unbelievably generous. Despite his flaws, I have to admit he's an effective leader."

The rest of the trip across the settlement was quiet. James was leaning against a guardrail on the old footbridge. He brightened when he saw the pair.

"Deacon! I almost thought you weren't coming."

Deacon forced a smile. "Abandon you without warning or even a note? Never." James winced.

"That sounds like my cue to leave." Preston turned on the spot and made his way back towards the buildings of Sanctuary, knowing it was better to not get involved.

"I deserved that."

"Yes, you did."

James pushed off of the fence he was leaning against. "Come with me, there's something I want to show you in the vault."

Deacon narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "What's in the vault?"

"Closure." Stated James simply. "Don't worry, Garvey has seen you. He'll ask questions if you don't return. I'm not going to kill you."

Somewhat mollified by that line of logic, Deacon began to follow him up to the vault.

"Even if he hadn't, I'm sure you've let HQ know that something is wrong if you don't come back."

The trip was continued with James rambling about settlements, cool new weapons, and Dogmeat. Deacon followed behind him in a hostile silence.

"Isn't this descending vault door neat?"

Scowling was his companion's response.

"There's a pristine package of cigarettes in the next room over. Would you like some?"

Glaring.

"I like to wear women's underwear. It makes me feel pretty."

A roll of the eyes.

"I steal Piper's. She has lacy ones."

Deacon deigned to respond for no other reason than to stop the conversation from getting any more disturbing.

"You have more issues than a news stand."

"Considering that they haven't had any new issues in 200 years that must mean I'm doing pretty good."

James stopped. "And we're here".

Deacon eyed the room. There were rows of cyrochambers filling the room. He peeked through the glass of one and saw a frozen corpse. "Geez, that is creepy. Is there a reason for all this?"

"Yes, there is." James gestured for him to come over. He pulled a couple levers and a set of pods opened. Inside one was a woman with wavy black hair with a bullet hole in her chest. In the other was middle aged man with white hair. "This is my wife, Nora." He pointed to the man. "And this is my son, Shaun. The now deceased director of the Institute."

"I could believe that this is your wife." Begrudgingly admitted Deacon. "But why should I believe that this is Shaun? You could have easily killed some guy and put him in here."

"Look closer. Clean fingernails. No scars, no freckles, no mutations. He's tall, not malnourished." He lifted Shaun's lip. "Perfect teeth. White and none of them are missing." James handed Deacon a lab coat that had been resting on a nearby container. "This was his lab coat from the Institute. Look at the stitching."

Deacon turned it over in his hands, examining the stitching. He looked at the body and back at the coat. "They look similar." Commented James. "Looks at the noses, chins, ears. The same."

Deacon frowned. "They're mother and son." He muttered to himself quietly. "Why go through this? Why traverse the wasteland looking for your son only to kill him?"

"For revenge that was 200 years in the making." James firmly stated.

"Elaborate." Demanded Deacon.

"I never wanted to marry her. She was a one night stand I had when I was drunk. Apparently I got her pregnant. Her father was cop. A crooked one at that. If I didn't marry his perfect little angel, best case scenario I was going back to jail. Most likely scenario, the guy kills me. So, I married her. Not a happy marriage, but I was alive. Then she had the kid, Shaun. She named him, not me. I was suspicious. The kid didn't look like me. One day when she was out with her friends spending my money, I dropped by the pharmacy and got a paternity test. Care to guess the result?"

Deacon stood there in stunned silence.

"Not. Mine. I confronted her when I came back. Didn't work out. It didn't matter if it was mine or not, she wanted me to keep paying for her lifestyle and the kid. If I refused then daddy dearest would have me killed. I wasn't going spend the next 18 years dealing with this." James continued. "I had planned to kill her, but Kellogg took care of that for me. She forced me into marriage and parenthood. I wanted revenge. I hated her and I hated that brat. So there. That's why I went through all this. Revenge and closure. Judge away."

It took Deacon a good minute before he could form a sentence. "Holy shit. That is.." The gears in mind whirred before coming to a single conclusion. "exactly something you would do."

A hopeful smile appeared of James' face. "It wasn't about hurting you, destroying the Institute, or blowing up the Railroad's old base. Just closure and revenge." He embraced Deacon in a firm hug. "I'm sorry that I lied to you, that I drugged you. I'm sorry for everything I did. You're my best friend. My first best friend. Deacon, you mean the world to me. I will do anything to fix our relationship." After brief moment of contemplation, Deacon hugged back.

"I forgive you." He pulled back. "But, things need to change." James nodded quickly in agreement.

"Yes, of course. Anything you want."

"No more lying to me."

"Done."

"No more drugging me."

"I will never to that again without your permission."

"You'll start going to therapy."

"Is that really necessary?"

"James."

"Fine. I'll go to therapy provided that therapists still exist."

"Don't hide important information that affects me."

"I'll be open and honest with you. I make no promises regarding anybody else."

"That's all I ask for."

James smiled. "Friends?"

Deacon smiled back and grabbed James in a bear hug. "Best friends."

"Full disclosure time."

"Don't ruin the moment."

"I'm the new director of the Institute."

"What?!"

(A/N: This is the final chapter. There will be a sequel to this story and a spin-off which should be up in the next month. The spin-off will detail James' adventures mentioned in this story. Thank you for reading!)